to my horror, my brother decided it would be hilarious to change my desktop image to a creepy waving semi-balding clown while i bathed. i screamed thunderous murder upon shaking my monitor awake. i hate clowns. i don't know why anyone would aspire to be a clown. clowns are creepy creatures. their painted-on smile is so blatantly fake that it becomes psychologically disturbing. no one is seriously that happy - unless your choice of pill is prozac.

a former friend of mine, who i've tagged boyfriend-stealer #2, sidelined as a clown a few years ago (and to this day, i still mock her for it) and i once heard her giggling about how happy it made her feel to share her joy and love with all the little kids (gag). she even exploded with "just seeing them smile makes my day!" (that made my vanilla milkshake shoot out of my ears). i should have stabbed her with my pink bendy straw, but she wasn't donned in her clown garb and it's just not right to stab someone unless he/she looks like a clown. but if she was all clowny-looking that day, i probably would have attacked her - not just for being a clown but for stealing my damn boyfriend (but good riddance i say, rapper ex-bf is not worth all this pent up bitterness).

but seriously, who in their right mind adores clowns? i blame the batman movie starring that keaton person for instilling this fear in me. you see, i associate clowns with joker and i don't think anyone would want joker entertaining their kids. he might infect them with his 'joker venom' or disfigure them with his acid-spewing flowers. i have this theory that ronald macdonald will look like joker when he shrivels up like dried fruit in 100 years. i would photoshop mr. macdonald just so i could show you their striking resemblance (but then again, all clowns look the same to me), but i'm too darn lazy.

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out of the need to consume large amounts of chocolate, i baked my famous super chocolatey brownies and it is yum - especially when accompanied with that strawberry thingy we bought from baguio (lick spoon). i'm becoming such a martha, but i lack that show-and-tell skill that all marthas are known for. first you melt the chocolate over a double-boiler, make sure you get a velvet consistency...blah blah blah. <-- that i can't do. a classmate of mine (who's the only one from school who has ever tried my brownies) once asked how i made it and the conversation basically went nowhere.

classmate: it's nice ah, how'd you make it?

me: umm with chocolate.

classmate: chocolate flour ba?

me: no. i melted chocolate and ummm stuff and umm...

classmate: ???

whenever anyone asks me how i make something or to summarize a story i'm reading, i tend to skip through everything and give a stupid one-liner answer because i always think that they're asking more out of courtesy than anything else. besides, no one really pays attention when i blab away (aside from my close friends), so why bother. why should i waste my precious energy (and saliva) on people who stupidly nod their head and pretend interest. but then again, maybe it's all in my head. maybe they really are interested and thus now hate me with every fiber of their being for being such a pain and not sharing - and for that i apologize. i never did do well in kindergarten. i think i was absent (or asleep, or standing in the corner, or gossiping with my seatmate) when teacher taught the importance of 'sharing'.

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i just read through my previous entry and i will now bash my head against the wall. why did i have to go listen to 'The Used'. that band is so depressing. it turned me into this gushy-sentimental-sappy-softie and it's starting to get weird.

...gah, enrollment on monday. i haven't decided what classes to take, but i think it's high time i take relstri, pe, and that annoying basifi3.