honest to blog

I look good alright…yeah *wink*. Sigh, i should really start practicing a new move, some pretty little boy right there has copied my pick-up ‘muscle-flex-with-corner-smile/smirk’ line already. Bloody amateurs…hey, whuzzat? damn…ow, sheesh, i’m gorgeous’; i’m so God’s gift for all these babes in the world…and an eyeful i’d say for those, uhm…not so much on the straight liners…

Ok now, serious time, heh…like, those proteins are really working…i wonder if people can differentiate these things from steroids…like…they are really different??!?? Oh…lookit! LOOKIT! Well, well, what can i say? i’m such a portable chick magnet…look at these little guys right here…doesn’t get any better than this, awrite??!?! These things are, like, really attractive…like, they are the new blings, baby. Yeah, chicks dig ‘em alright.

Oh, radar caught a babe! Radar caught a babe! Be smooth boy, smooth i say. Pick up that heavier set…yup, that one will do. Don’t forget the bend, don’t forget the bend, linger, linger, count to three…snap it up. Yeah, damn, i’m good…awesome y’all! Ok, lift, down, lift, down, lift, right on…

*Author’s note: The piece written above does not reflect any mystical ability of mind-readings. It is made for the purpose of entertainment only, and should not under any circumstances be reflected upon a certain stereotypes existing in the society…like, seriously.

She fingered the papers in her hand meticulously, cringing at the set of vampiric bite-looking marks on the top left corner of it. She cursed under her breath at her lacking sense of sensibility. She did not know which one was worse; compulsively deciding not to include the complete report appendix the night before, or having a panic attack over the fact that her report will be made up of two different kinds of papers with two different kinds of printer ink. With an audible sigh, she inserted the cause of her morning anxiety into her bag, cautiously ensuring that no part of her inked writings get wrinkled or folded.

As she strode outside the library to surrender the article that had her staying up all night, she started contemplating at the weather that day; not too cold, nor was it warm. Playfully, she started breathing intentionally through her mouth to catch the sights of her misty exhalation. Gosh, I’m so easily amused, she thought. Then she noticed the cloud, making a mental note thanking herself for being smart enough to carry an umbrella that day. Oh, why haven’t the tree turned autumn-like yet? She wondered.

“Hey!”

Isn’t this, like, May already?

“Hey! Not going to class today?”

She pivoted her intruded locomote and searched for the voice owner.

“Hey…what class?”

“Err…” he paused, searching for the answer in the sky at his right, “Issue?” he continued.

She lingered in her thoughts for a while before slowly speaking up,” Oh, it was yesterday…”

He frowned,” Well, ok…see ya then.”

She waved back and continued on her way, igniting a train of thinking in her head if she had actually missed anything.

Right, she wasn’t sure if she knew his name…

Sheep’s technical term is "Ovis Aries" and its conservation status is domesticated (but there are still some weird people who actually take sheep in as pets…stupido…)

In a sheep breeders’ vocabulary, "lambs" is a term used for the younger sheep

In sheep husbandry, a group of sheep is called a herd, flock or (here comes the good part…) a MOB (well, deep down i’ve always known that sheep’s natural instinct to herd means something’s cookin’, hahaha)

In Chinese zodiac, people born in the year of sheep (or ram or goat, whatever…) are forever known for their lifetime of distress or fear with themselves (whoever comes up with this Chinese zodiac thingy should really get a life…). Ow, and they are supposed to be easily drawn into complex predicaments.

Apparently, the Westerners beg to differ. Aries (whose zodiac symbol is a ram) in the western astrology is associated with fresh vigour, enthusiasm, aggressiveness and all things Ares; which is the other name of Mars (that certain Olympian god who apparently gets a kick out of savage wars and turning people into roosters…)

In New Zealand, sheep outnumber the human population 12 to 1 (and somehow, somewhere, they’re planning to take over the world…)

In Animal Farm, a satirical novel by George Orwell, sheep are employed as a representative of the ignorant and uneducated masses of revolutionary Russia. In the novel, the sheep’s supposed intelligence is limited to them memorising repetitive slogans such as "Four legs good, two legs bad" which they lament in unison at rallies (…mean mr. Orwell)

Some people count sheep until they fall asleep (fancy the idea…). And sheep can fall asleep standing.

"Riggwelter" is a Yorkshire slang for a sheep that has fallen onto its back, usually because of the weight of its fleece, and is unable to get back up (well, it may sound funny but…), having to die as a result (*sob* the things some poor sheep have to go through to fulfill human’s lust for wools…when it comes to solidarity, man, the sheep wrote the book)

According to a British National Sheep Association’s spokesperson, however, "Sheep are quite intelligent creatures and have MORE brainpower than people are willing to give them credit for." (finally, a deserved credit when it’s due…) An example from England shows how sheep actually figure out a way to get over cattle grids by rolling on their backs (hah! eat that, mr Orwell!!! and fyi, it’s the sheep, and only the sheep and nothing but the sheep that has figured out this tactic, so help us sheep…). As if it’s not enough already, the sheep allow a little more demonstration of their intelligent minds by exhibiting how they can remember the face of over fifty other sheep for over two years (National Geographic rawkzzz! I bet the majority of human can’t fare with them…)