<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11819981</id><updated>2011-04-21T17:10:28.450-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Twisted Thoughts</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>cerise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14694983051662823414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://scd.mm-c.yimg.com/image/616906593.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>38</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11819981.post-112147653001490317</id><published>2005-07-15T18:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-15T18:15:30.020-07:00</updated><title type='text'>sleeping disorder.</title><content type='html'>ANO ORAS KA USUALLY NATUTULOG?&lt;br /&gt;recently umaga na, mga 2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TINGIN MO BA SAPAT ITO?&lt;br /&gt;no. duh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MAY INIINOM KA BANG GAMOT PARA &lt;br /&gt;MAKATULOG?&lt;br /&gt;wala. kelangan ko nga ng pampagising e hahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANO ANG TATLONG BAGAY NA PALAGI MONG &lt;br /&gt;GINAGAWA BAGO KA MATULOG?&lt;br /&gt;gumawa ng assignments, gumawa ng assignments, gumawa ng assignments&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NAGDADASAL KA BA BAGO MATULOG?&lt;br /&gt;not anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANO DINADASAL MO?&lt;br /&gt;kulit mo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NATUTUPAD NAMAN BA?&lt;br /&gt;hay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANO UNA MONG NAIISIP PAGKAGISING?&lt;br /&gt;kahihiga ko lang ah?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANO UNA MO GINAGAWA PAGKAGISING?&lt;br /&gt;matulog ulit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SINO UNA MO KINAKAUSAP?&lt;br /&gt;yung isang aid namin para tanungin kung anong ulam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ANO ORAS KA BA GUMIGISING?&lt;br /&gt;dapat before 5 pero nag-eextend ako hanggang 5-5.30.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BAKIT GANONG ORAS?&lt;br /&gt;kasi yun na yun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11819981-112147653001490317?l=piiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/112147653001490317/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11819981&amp;postID=112147653001490317' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/112147653001490317'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/112147653001490317'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/2005/07/sleeping-disorder.html' title='sleeping disorder.'/><author><name>cerise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14694983051662823414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://scd.mm-c.yimg.com/image/616906593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11819981.post-112083198240465369</id><published>2005-07-08T07:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-08T07:13:02.416-07:00</updated><title type='text'>mushy shit.</title><content type='html'>1. Love is Blind or Lovers are Blind?&lt;br /&gt;* lovers are blind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Ano ba mas mahalaga: tagal ng pinagsamahan o&lt;br /&gt;tindi ng nararamdaman?&lt;br /&gt;* tindi ng nararamdaman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. The one you Love or the one who Loves u? y?&lt;br /&gt;* the one i love. i can never lie to myself, more to the person who loves me and the one i love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Long distance relationship, hanggang kelan ka&lt;br /&gt;tatagal?&lt;br /&gt;* if you really love each other, your thing would last.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Past o present? Sino sa palagay mo?&lt;br /&gt;* most pasts are still evident in the present. so, i dont know. haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Relationship na puro away, magtatagal kaya?&lt;br /&gt;* some couples find the need to quarrel all the time to realize how much they love each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Okay lang ba na ex Gf or bf mo naging sila ng&lt;br /&gt;bestfriend mo?&lt;br /&gt;* why not? if their feelings are genuine no one can do anything about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Mahirap bang magselos lalo't wala kang karapatan?&lt;br /&gt;* well, yea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Corny ba ang makipagbalikan sa ex?&lt;br /&gt;* errr i dont know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Nagkakausap ba kayo ng Ex mo?&lt;br /&gt;* never had an ex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. If you were to choose bf/gf smoker or not?&lt;br /&gt;* please, all of you, do not smoke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Are u willing to give ur eyes to someone you love?&lt;br /&gt;* if i really love that person and baliw ako ng time na yon, pwede din.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Do you believe in soulmates?&lt;br /&gt;* errrr i dont know. yea. i see them in my parents kc e.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. what attracts you most?&lt;br /&gt;* eyes, talents, kasabugan pero seryosong mabait&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. Ano gagawin mo pag na inluv ka sa barkada mo?&lt;br /&gt;* ka-barkada? ano pa ba dapat gawin? hahaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. Anung meron cya na wala ang iba?&lt;br /&gt;* basta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. Nasabi mo na ba sa kanya ung feelings mo?&lt;br /&gt;* no. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. Ready ka na ba 4 a new relationship?&lt;br /&gt;* new? never had naman e. not ready for one cguro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. What can u assure her/him if ever she/he &amp; you&lt;br /&gt;will be in a relationship?&lt;br /&gt;* my faithfulness.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11819981-112083198240465369?l=piiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/112083198240465369/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11819981&amp;postID=112083198240465369' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/112083198240465369'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/112083198240465369'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/2005/07/mushy-shit.html' title='mushy shit.'/><author><name>cerise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14694983051662823414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://scd.mm-c.yimg.com/image/616906593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11819981.post-112066218153680773</id><published>2005-07-06T07:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-06T08:03:01.546-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the word of the day</title><content type='html'>shit. why does life have to be so damn hard? shit talaga.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11819981-112066218153680773?l=piiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/112066218153680773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11819981&amp;postID=112066218153680773' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/112066218153680773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/112066218153680773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/2005/07/word-of-day.html' title='the word of the day'/><author><name>cerise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14694983051662823414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://scd.mm-c.yimg.com/image/616906593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11819981.post-112031226087534918</id><published>2005-07-02T06:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-02T06:51:00.883-07:00</updated><title type='text'>last.</title><content type='html'>1. whose picture is it that you keep on &lt;br /&gt;your wallet?&lt;br /&gt;:: i don't keep pictures in my wallet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. what time do you go to bed?&lt;br /&gt;:: wish ko 7 tulog na ko. but no. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. what was the last thing you did before&lt;br /&gt;filling this survey?&lt;br /&gt;:: filled a different survey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. who's the one you always meet the&lt;br /&gt;most?&lt;br /&gt;:: blockmates, friends, cousins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. who's the person you're gonna call if you need &lt;br /&gt;help?&lt;br /&gt;:: yumi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. what's on your mind just now?&lt;br /&gt;:: my knee. and people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. who's number on your speed dials?&lt;br /&gt;:: no one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.with whom do you wanna be to have fun?&lt;br /&gt;:: friends&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. what's your latest movie?&lt;br /&gt;:: my latest movie? i wish i had. nyaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. when was the last time you went out?&lt;br /&gt;:: last night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. what do you hate the most for now?&lt;br /&gt;:: the pain! ==&gt; exactly!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. when was the first time you sleep alone?&lt;br /&gt;:: slept dapat yan. anyway. i always sleep alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. what do you wanna do for now?&lt;br /&gt;:: sleep and kick someone. haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. what do you do for everyday besides eat and &lt;br /&gt;sleep?&lt;br /&gt;:: walk. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. what things could piss you off?&lt;br /&gt;:: madaming bagay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. fave pet?&lt;br /&gt;:: joey, my dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. colors that make you happy?&lt;br /&gt;:: green.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. most fave thing in your room?&lt;br /&gt;:: my bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. what was the last thing you bought for&lt;br /&gt;your room?&lt;br /&gt;:: battery for my remote control. haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. any instruments in your room?&lt;br /&gt;:: wala&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. do you cook?&lt;br /&gt;:: no&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. miss someone?&lt;br /&gt;:: yea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. plan to buy something?&lt;br /&gt;:: yea i just don't know what it is. haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. are you satisfied with your life now?&lt;br /&gt;:: maybe&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25.do you like seafood?&lt;br /&gt;:: yea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26. breakfast or dinner?&lt;br /&gt;:: breakfast. i usually don't have time to eat it but when i do, i love it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27. what do you usually eat for breakfast?&lt;br /&gt;:: bread&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28. did you eat breakfast today?&lt;br /&gt;:: yes! yum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29. do you recycle?&lt;br /&gt;::: yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30. do you have a laptop?&lt;br /&gt;:: yes, but i share it with my parents. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31. what're your favorite fast food chains?&lt;br /&gt;:: mcdo, kfc, jollibee&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32. cats or dogs?&lt;br /&gt;:: dogs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;33. salty or sweet?&lt;br /&gt;:: sweet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;34. city or country?&lt;br /&gt;:: city&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;35. what's your favorite kind of jeans?&lt;br /&gt;:: comfy ones. hehe ==&gt;tama&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;36. Is kissing normal for our age?&lt;br /&gt;:: i think so&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;37. are you athletic?&lt;br /&gt;:: no. i wish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;38. do you swear?&lt;br /&gt;:: a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;39. would you ditch your friends for a date?&lt;br /&gt;:: i dont know. depends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;40. do you have your own cell phone?&lt;br /&gt;:: yea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;41. what do you wear to bed?&lt;br /&gt;:: big shirt and shorts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;42. ever had a crush on a teacher?&lt;br /&gt;:: yup. he's gay and he's cute!Ü&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;43. coke or pepsi?&lt;br /&gt;:: coke&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;44. sugar or spice?&lt;br /&gt;:: spice&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;45. can you use chopsticks?&lt;br /&gt;:: not really&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;46. do you like to read for pleasure?&lt;br /&gt;:: yes &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;47. do you care about getting goodgrades?&lt;br /&gt;:: yea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;48. have you ever fallen asleep in class?&lt;br /&gt;:: oopsy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;49. get a job or ask your parents for money?&lt;br /&gt;:: ask parents for money&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;50. is your dad strict?&lt;br /&gt;:: yes super&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;51. do your parents give you enough privacy?&lt;br /&gt;:: yes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;52. do your parents trust you?&lt;br /&gt;:: not really. haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;53. would you trade places (in life) with your best &lt;br /&gt;friends..?&lt;br /&gt;:: no&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;54. does your best friend get on your nerves?&lt;br /&gt;:: sometimes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;55. does love conquer all?&lt;br /&gt;:: it conquers all the good stuff and triples the bad stuff. sick feeling after. yuck.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11819981-112031226087534918?l=piiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/112031226087534918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11819981&amp;postID=112031226087534918' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/112031226087534918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/112031226087534918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/2005/07/last.html' title='last.'/><author><name>cerise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14694983051662823414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://scd.mm-c.yimg.com/image/616906593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11819981.post-112030931294359716</id><published>2005-07-02T05:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-02T06:01:52.946-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>wat song are ya listening to now?&lt;br /&gt;-- fall to pieces&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*colour ya ar wearing now?&lt;br /&gt;-- beige&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*now, who's on ur mind?&lt;br /&gt;-- shit naman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*now, wat lyrics do ya like so much?&lt;br /&gt;-- i don't want to fall to pieces. I just want to sit and stare at you.&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to talk about it.&lt;br /&gt;I don't want a conversation. I just want to cry in front of you.&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to talk about it 'coz im in love with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*where do ya feel like going now&lt;br /&gt;-- nowhere&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*wat movie do ya wan to watch?&lt;br /&gt;-- ewan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*now, wat do ya want most?&lt;br /&gt;-- i dont know. money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*now, wat are ya eating n drinking?&lt;br /&gt;-- nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*current mood right now?&lt;br /&gt;-- pissed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*when is ur birthday?&lt;br /&gt;-- december 27&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*where did ya buy ur sch bag?&lt;br /&gt;-- esprit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*where did ya buy ur pencil box?&lt;br /&gt;-- i don't remember&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*how was school today?&lt;br /&gt;-- no school today&lt;br /&gt;_______________________________&lt;br /&gt;- Studies -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*best subjects?&lt;br /&gt;-- uh can't decide. fil and bio siguro. ewan. basta hndi lit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*worst subject?&lt;br /&gt;-- lit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;_________________&lt;br /&gt;- Past -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*last time ya fell in love?&lt;br /&gt;-- drop it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*last movie ya watched? with who?&lt;br /&gt;-- finding nemo. with kuya erni.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*last shirt ya wore before this shirt?&lt;br /&gt;-- white shirt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*last thing ya held?&lt;br /&gt;-- cellphone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*last time ya cried?&lt;br /&gt;-- hay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*last place ya went? with?&lt;br /&gt;-- drew's. with friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*last dream&lt;br /&gt;-- i can't remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*last call ya received?&lt;br /&gt;-- yumi. a while ago lang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*last testi. ya got?&lt;br /&gt;-- i can't remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*last message ya got in friendster?&lt;br /&gt;-- can't remember also&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*last thing ya did?&lt;br /&gt;-- typed?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*last present u got?&lt;br /&gt;-- ewan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*last present ya gave to someone?&lt;br /&gt;-- a hairbrush for my lola ata.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*last issue u read in the newspaper?&lt;br /&gt;-- i don't read the newspaper.&lt;br /&gt;_____________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Love Life -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*who's the first person ya fell in love with?&lt;br /&gt;-- yuck&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*how many girls did ya like before ?&lt;br /&gt;-- girls? none? i like my friends. do they count?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11819981-112030931294359716?l=piiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/112030931294359716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11819981&amp;postID=112030931294359716' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/112030931294359716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/112030931294359716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/2005/07/wat-song-are-ya-listening-to-now-fall.html' title=''/><author><name>cerise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14694983051662823414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://scd.mm-c.yimg.com/image/616906593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11819981.post-112030867774464526</id><published>2005-07-02T05:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-02T05:51:17.753-07:00</updated><title type='text'>can't stop.</title><content type='html'>1. shampoo first then soap or soap first?&lt;br /&gt;* soap first&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. brand of cigarette you smoke?&lt;br /&gt;* i don't smoke&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. last movie u watched?&lt;br /&gt;* finding nemo ulit kanina&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. what did you eat for dinner last night?&lt;br /&gt;* chicken fingers. hi dang. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. what is the last thing u do b4 u sleep?&lt;br /&gt;* lie down?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. people who really know u?&lt;br /&gt;* friends&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. oldest thing in your fridge?&lt;br /&gt;* uh the fridge itself? i dont know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. chicken, beef or pork?&lt;br /&gt;* chicken&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. brand, color and drawing or text of favorite shirt?&lt;br /&gt;* any brand, black, "fuck off" nakalagay in big bold white letters&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. favorite cartoon character?&lt;br /&gt;* reggie rocket. pati si little lulu at si arnold&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. favorite non-alcoholic drink?&lt;br /&gt;* water. c2. coke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. favorite pet?&lt;br /&gt;* joey. yung aso ko.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. best christmas gift?&lt;br /&gt;* cash&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. how much do u hate ur enemies?&lt;br /&gt;* i actually don't have nay of those. haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. favorite brand of shoes?&lt;br /&gt;* nike&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. stupidest thing done?&lt;br /&gt;* shit. basta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. last subject flunked?&lt;br /&gt;* math nung first year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. choose one: "hells angel" or "heavens devil"?&lt;br /&gt;* hell's angel&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. last person to smile at you?&lt;br /&gt;* oh shit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. Is he/she cute?&lt;br /&gt;* ugh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11819981-112030867774464526?l=piiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/112030867774464526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11819981&amp;postID=112030867774464526' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/112030867774464526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/112030867774464526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/2005/07/cant-stop.html' title='can&apos;t stop.'/><author><name>cerise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14694983051662823414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://scd.mm-c.yimg.com/image/616906593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11819981.post-112030795637449043</id><published>2005-07-02T05:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-02T05:39:16.376-07:00</updated><title type='text'>strike 3</title><content type='html'>1)Who's at home now?&lt;br /&gt;&gt; everyone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Did u go out yesterday?&lt;br /&gt;&gt; yea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Who did you go out with?&lt;br /&gt;&gt; friends&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) What time did u wake up today?&lt;br /&gt;&gt;9&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) Did u go anywhere today?&lt;br /&gt;&gt; no&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) What did u do there?&lt;br /&gt;&gt; nothing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) What did u have for dinner?&lt;br /&gt;&gt; fish, salad, papaya&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8) What do u call your mother?&lt;br /&gt;&gt; mom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9) Are u and your mom on good terms?&lt;br /&gt;&gt; yea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10) Are u the only girl/boi in ur family? --&lt;br /&gt;&gt; yea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11) What perfume/cologne are u using&lt;br /&gt;now&lt;br /&gt;&gt; cologne. basta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12) Who did u last talk to last night?&lt;br /&gt;&gt; dang&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13) Are u spoiled?&lt;br /&gt;&gt; no&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14) Do u want to get married?&lt;br /&gt;&gt; yea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15) With who? .&lt;br /&gt;&gt; i dont know&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16) Where do u think your friends are now?&lt;br /&gt;&gt; home. or outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17) Do u think your friends need u now?&lt;br /&gt;&gt; yea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18) Where do u wish to be?&lt;br /&gt;&gt; i am where i wish to be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19) When will u be buying a car?&lt;br /&gt;&gt; tomorrow. nyaha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20) What type of car do u wanna buy?&lt;br /&gt;&gt; i dont know. we'll see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21) If u were a car, what type will u be?&lt;br /&gt;&gt; a top-down bmw&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22) Who do u wish to meet now?&lt;br /&gt;&gt;hay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23) Do u wanna meet britney spears?&lt;br /&gt;&gt; okay lang&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24) Who do u approach when u have a&lt;br /&gt;prob?&lt;br /&gt;&gt; friends. tsaka si yumi cyempre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25) What do u want for your birthday?&lt;br /&gt;&gt; cash&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26) What do u wish for xmas?&lt;br /&gt;&gt; cash&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27) Any piercings on u?&lt;br /&gt;&gt; sa ears&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28) Would u like to have a tattoo?&lt;br /&gt;&gt; yea pero hndi pwede&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30) How many kids do u want?&lt;br /&gt;&gt; 2? i dont know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31) Any homeworks?&lt;br /&gt;&gt; madami&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32) Are u listening to any music now?&lt;br /&gt;what song&lt;br /&gt;&gt; yea and it's my song for tonight. fall to pieces by avril lavigne.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;33) Do u believe in miracles?&lt;br /&gt;&gt; no&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;34) Do u believe in fate?&lt;br /&gt;&gt; yea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;35) When did u last cry?&lt;br /&gt;&gt; ugh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;36) When did u last smile?&lt;br /&gt;&gt; ngayon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;37) When did u last receive a gift?&lt;br /&gt;&gt;two days ago&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;38) Who has the cutest smile u ever seen?&lt;br /&gt;&gt;myself? haha kapal. ewan. si little guy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;39) What do u want to tell your crush?&lt;br /&gt;&gt; hi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;40) Why are u answering this bulletin?&lt;br /&gt;&gt;pampatanggal ng sama ng loob.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;41) Do u kiss your parents good night?&lt;br /&gt;&gt; no&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;42) Your hair colour?&lt;br /&gt;&gt; black&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;43) Hairstyl?&lt;br /&gt;&gt; ewan. mahaba.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;44) Are u being loved by someone?&lt;br /&gt;&gt; i hope so&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;45) Any wishes?&lt;br /&gt;&gt; ugh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11819981-112030795637449043?l=piiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/112030795637449043/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11819981&amp;postID=112030795637449043' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/112030795637449043'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/112030795637449043'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/2005/07/strike-3.html' title='strike 3'/><author><name>cerise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14694983051662823414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://scd.mm-c.yimg.com/image/616906593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11819981.post-112030739571280846</id><published>2005-07-02T05:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-02T05:29:55.720-07:00</updated><title type='text'>surveys as "stress" releasers.</title><content type='html'>1. Call me _____&lt;br /&gt;** pia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. What color of shirt are you wearing&lt;br /&gt;right now?&lt;br /&gt;** beige&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. What Are You Watching Right Now?&lt;br /&gt;** nothing &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. What Was The Last Thing You Ate?&lt;br /&gt;** papaya&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Do You Believe In Karma?&lt;br /&gt;** yea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. If You Were A Crayon, what color&lt;br /&gt;would you be? Why?&lt;br /&gt;** green&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. How Is The Weather Right Now?&lt;br /&gt;** ewan. nasa loob ako e at nakababa yung blinds so hndi ko alam kung umuulan. tapos naka-aircon so hndi ko alam kung mainit or malamig talaga.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Last Person You Talked To On The&lt;br /&gt;Phone?&lt;br /&gt;** yumi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Do You Like The Person Who Sent this?&lt;br /&gt;** yea&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. How Are You Today?&lt;br /&gt;** sick and pissed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Favorite Drink(s)?&lt;br /&gt;** water and coke. atbp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Favorite Alcoholic Drink?&lt;br /&gt;** depende sa price.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Favorite Sport?&lt;br /&gt;** to play, wla. to watch on the tv, basketball and billiards. to watch live, basketball and soccer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14.Favorite Hair Color?&lt;br /&gt;** black&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Favorite Eye Color?&lt;br /&gt;** brown or green or gray. dami.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. Favorite Band?&lt;br /&gt;** green day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. # of x bf/gf?&lt;br /&gt;** you make me laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. Favorite Months?&lt;br /&gt;** december and june&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. Favorite Foods?&lt;br /&gt;** salads and pasta. pizza. ice cream, chocolates, and cheese. haha&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. Last Movie You Watched?&lt;br /&gt;** finding nemo kanina sa dvd. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. Favorite Days of the Year?&lt;br /&gt;** my birthday. my day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. ??? no questions?!?!&lt;br /&gt;-- bakit? sabihin mo lang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. What Was Your Favorite Toy As A&lt;br /&gt;Child?&lt;br /&gt;** yung white kong teddy bear na may zipper sa likod tpos pwede cya maging pillow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. Summer or Winter?&lt;br /&gt;** winter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. Hugs Or Kisses?&lt;br /&gt;** hugs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26. Chocolate Or Vanilla?&lt;br /&gt;** chocolate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27. What do you think about loving&lt;br /&gt;someone who doesn't love you?&lt;br /&gt;** ugh. fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28. What are the things that make you&lt;br /&gt;feel uncomfortable?&lt;br /&gt;** pwede ba when na lang? days when i have my period, times when im with an elusive airhead or brat, and instances when i just feel plain uncomfortable. bad trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;29. Do You Think You're Normal?&lt;br /&gt;** i think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30. Friends You Have Had The Longest?&lt;br /&gt;** madami.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;31. What Did You Do Last Night?&lt;br /&gt;** you wouldn't want to know. i won't share it anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;32. Favorite perfume?&lt;br /&gt;** cucumber melon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;33. Who Inspires You?&lt;br /&gt;** no one at the moment. ugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;34. What Are You Afraid Of?&lt;br /&gt;** rats, frogs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;35. Plain, Buttered Or Salted Popcorn&lt;br /&gt;** buttered&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;36. Missing someone?&lt;br /&gt;** drop it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11819981-112030739571280846?l=piiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/112030739571280846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11819981&amp;postID=112030739571280846' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/112030739571280846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/112030739571280846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/2005/07/surveys-as-stress-releasers.html' title='surveys as &quot;stress&quot; releasers.'/><author><name>cerise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14694983051662823414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://scd.mm-c.yimg.com/image/616906593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11819981.post-112030641051886689</id><published>2005-07-02T05:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-07-02T05:13:30.523-07:00</updated><title type='text'>shit ka. period.</title><content type='html'>1. Latest realization mo?&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;wow. so yun pala. sana sinabi mo na lang para wala nang expectations. ang hirap kaya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Dapat gawin pag nalulungkot?&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt;sing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Motto mo about LOVE?&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt; love sucks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Dapat gawin ng guy pag busted?&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt; move on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Pinakamatinding kalokohang nagawa mo sa&lt;br /&gt;school?&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt; uh ewan. i really can't think right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Gusto mong itawag sayo kung ikaw ang&lt;br /&gt;masusunod?&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt; pia? ewan. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Pangarap mong summer get-away trip?&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt; beach na super layo tapos more than a week dun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Isang bagay na hinding hindi mo tatanggihan?&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt; money&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Masayang libangan kapag umuulan?&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt; singing para mas lumakas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Isang bagay na pinag-iipunan mo nang husto?&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt; wala pa naman. basta nag-iipon lang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. Gagawin mo sa susunod mong birthday?&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt; matutulog? promise gusto ko gawin yon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Hindi mo makayanan o matagalan?&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt; my sudden epiphany.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. Gusto mong panoorin sa sine?&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt; kahit ano. wala akong maisip&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. Gusto mong isigaw ngayon, as in now na!?&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt; @*^$#*&amp;#)(@&amp;*^$*^&amp;#*&amp;# mo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. Paano ka ma-badtrip?&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt; nagmumura. tsaka kumakanta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. Madali bang mahalata na may topak ka?&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt; super. yung normal ko. yun na yun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. Matagal ka ba maligo?&lt;br /&gt;&gt; oo. pero marunong akong mag-magic pag malelate na ko.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18.kumakain ka ba ng vegetables?&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt; except okra and ampalaya.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. Tamad ka ba?&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt; oo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. Nagpplaystation ka ba?&lt;br /&gt;&gt;&gt; not recently&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11819981-112030641051886689?l=piiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/112030641051886689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11819981&amp;postID=112030641051886689' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/112030641051886689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/112030641051886689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/2005/07/shit-ka-period.html' title='shit ka. period.'/><author><name>cerise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14694983051662823414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://scd.mm-c.yimg.com/image/616906593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11819981.post-111985324458537079</id><published>2005-06-26T23:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-28T04:04:40.340-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ang lamig promise.</title><content type='html'>1.one word to describe urself right now?&lt;br /&gt;--- cold&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.two words you want to say to your loved&lt;br /&gt;one/your crush/significant other?&lt;br /&gt;--- what's up?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. name 5 of your closest friends&lt;br /&gt;--- yumi, dang, kuya erni, kq, reg&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. what's your favorite number?&lt;br /&gt;--- 7&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. what was the first thing you did after &lt;br /&gt;waking up?&lt;br /&gt;--- did my essay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. last number of your cellphone number?&lt;br /&gt;--- 1&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. brand of your mobile phone?&lt;br /&gt;--- nokia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.who was the first person that came to &lt;br /&gt;your mind as you woke up this morning?&lt;br /&gt;--- ms astillero? my english prof&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. who was the last person to make you &lt;br /&gt;feel kilig?&lt;br /&gt;--- c small guy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. what song is on your mind right now?&lt;br /&gt;--- a smile ata title nun. yung kay barbie na ginamit sa close-up commercial&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. what was the last thing you wrote on a&lt;br /&gt;line?&lt;br /&gt;--- my name&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. whom do you want to call on your &lt;br /&gt;cellphone?&lt;br /&gt;--- kuya erni&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. what's your favorite time of day?&lt;br /&gt;--- sleeping time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. what color do you like?&lt;br /&gt;--- green&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. last song that you sang:&lt;br /&gt;--- a smile (kung ano mang title nun)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. do you like to sing?&lt;br /&gt;--- yes. a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. what was the last song that you &lt;br /&gt;danced to?&lt;br /&gt;--- hndi ko na matandaan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. favorite songs:&lt;br /&gt;-- madami e.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. bakit mo sinagutan ang survey na ito?&lt;br /&gt;--- dahil nilalamig na ko dito sa ctc so kelangan ko mag-type para hndi mag-numb yung fingers ko.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. asan ka ngayon?&lt;br /&gt;--- sa ctc&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. last person you e-mailed.&lt;br /&gt;--- sarili ko. may sinend ako na kelangan ko for project e. so sinend ko sa sarili ko para ma-check ko sa bahay. nyaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. have you worn/are you wearing &lt;br /&gt;braces &lt;br /&gt;--- no&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. how often do you buy load?&lt;br /&gt;--- madalas thrice a month&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. who's the last person in your &lt;br /&gt;phonebook?&lt;br /&gt;--- an unknown person&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26. if you were given a chance to visit &lt;br /&gt;another country what would it be?&lt;br /&gt;--- paris&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27. name the person that you want to fall &lt;br /&gt;for you at this moment&lt;br /&gt;--- uh wala naman&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28. msg to the person u love:&lt;br /&gt;--- i love you? haha kung meron.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11819981-111985324458537079?l=piiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/111985324458537079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11819981&amp;postID=111985324458537079' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111985324458537079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111985324458537079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/2005/06/ang-lamig-promise.html' title='ang lamig promise.'/><author><name>cerise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14694983051662823414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://scd.mm-c.yimg.com/image/616906593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11819981.post-111958649891117748</id><published>2005-06-23T21:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-23T21:14:58.916-07:00</updated><title type='text'>what the</title><content type='html'>This day is the perfect epitome of a fuck shit day. Period. Smiley.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11819981-111958649891117748?l=piiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/111958649891117748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11819981&amp;postID=111958649891117748' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111958649891117748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111958649891117748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/2005/06/what.html' title='what the'/><author><name>cerise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14694983051662823414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://scd.mm-c.yimg.com/image/616906593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11819981.post-111951809936078983</id><published>2005-06-23T02:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-06-23T02:14:59.366-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Banana</title><content type='html'>Home Remedy -- If you want a quick fix for&lt;br /&gt;flagging energy levels there's no better snack than&lt;br /&gt;a banana. Containing three natural sugars --&lt;br /&gt;sucrose, fructose and glucose combined with fiber&lt;br /&gt;a banana gives an instant, sustained and&lt;br /&gt;substantial boost of energy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Research has proven that just two bananas&lt;br /&gt;provide enough for a strenuous 90-minute&lt;br /&gt;workout. No wonder the banana is the number one&lt;br /&gt;fruit with the world's leading athletes. But energy&lt;br /&gt;isn't the only way a banana can help us keep fit. It&lt;br /&gt;can also help overcome or prevent a substantial&lt;br /&gt;number of illnesses and conditions making it a must&lt;br /&gt;to add to your daily diet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Depression -- According to a recent survey&lt;br /&gt;undertaken by MIND amongst people suffering from&lt;br /&gt;depression, many felt much better after eating a&lt;br /&gt;banana. This is because bananas contain&lt;br /&gt;trypotophan, a type of protein that the body&lt;br /&gt;converts into serotonin known to make you relax,&lt;br /&gt;improve your mood... and generally make you feel&lt;br /&gt;happier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PMS -- Forget the pills -- eat a banana. The vitamin&lt;br /&gt;B6 it contains regulates blood glucose levels,&lt;br /&gt;which can affect your mood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anemia -- High in iron, bananas can stimulate the&lt;br /&gt;production of hemoglobin in the blood and so helps&lt;br /&gt;in cases of anemia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blood Pressure -- This unique tropical fruit is&lt;br /&gt;extremely high in potassium, yet low in salt, making&lt;br /&gt;it the perfect to beat blood pressure. So much so,&lt;br /&gt;the US Food and Drug Administration has just&lt;br /&gt;allowed the banana industry to make official claims&lt;br /&gt;for the fruit: It's ability to reduce the risk of&lt;br /&gt;blood&lt;br /&gt;pressure and stroke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brain Power -- 200 students at a Twickenham&lt;br /&gt;(Middlesex) school were helped through their&lt;br /&gt;exams this year by eating bananas at breakfast,&lt;br /&gt;break and lunch in a bid to boost their brain power.&lt;br /&gt;Research has shown that the potassium packed&lt;br /&gt;fruit can assist learning by making pupils more&lt;br /&gt;alert.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Constipation -- High in fiber, including bananas in&lt;br /&gt;the diet can help restore normal bowel action,&lt;br /&gt;helping to overcome the problem without resorting&lt;br /&gt;to laxatives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hangovers -- One of the quickest ways of curing a&lt;br /&gt;hangover is to make a banana milkshake,&lt;br /&gt;sweetened with honey. The banana calms the&lt;br /&gt;stomach and, with the help of the honey, builds up&lt;br /&gt;depleted blood sugar levels, while the milk soothes&lt;br /&gt;and rehydrate your system.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heartburn -- Bananas have a natural antacid effect&lt;br /&gt;in the body so if you suffer from heartburn, try&lt;br /&gt;eating a banana for soothing relief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Morning Sickness -- Snacking on bananas&lt;br /&gt;between meals helps to keep blood sugar levels up&lt;br /&gt;and avoid morning sickness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mosquito bites -- Before reaching for the insect&lt;br /&gt;bite cream, try rubbing the affected area with the&lt;br /&gt;inside of a banana skin. Many people find it&lt;br /&gt;amazingly successful at reducing swelling and&lt;br /&gt;irritation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nerves -- Bananas are high in B vitamins that help&lt;br /&gt;calm the nervous system.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ulcers -- The banana is used as the dietary food&lt;br /&gt;against intestinal disorders because of its soft&lt;br /&gt;texture and smoothness. It is the only raw fruit that&lt;br /&gt;can be eaten without distress in over-chroniculcer&lt;br /&gt;cases. It also neutralizes over-acidity and reduces&lt;br /&gt;irritation by coating the lining of the stomach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Temperature control -- Many other cultures see&lt;br /&gt;bananas as a 'cooling' fruit that can lower both the&lt;br /&gt;physical and emotional temperature of expectant&lt;br /&gt;mothers. In Thailand, for example, pregnant women&lt;br /&gt;eat bananas to ensure their baby is born with a&lt;br /&gt;cool temperature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD)-- Bananas can&lt;br /&gt;help SAD sufferers because they contain the&lt;br /&gt;natural mood enhancer, trypotophan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smoking -- Bananas can also help people trying to&lt;br /&gt;give up smoking. The B6, B12 they contain, as well&lt;br /&gt;as the potassium and magnesium found in them&lt;br /&gt;help the body recover from the effects of nicotine&lt;br /&gt;withdrawal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stress -- Potassium is a vital mineral which helps&lt;br /&gt;normalize the heartbeat, sends oxygen to the brain&lt;br /&gt;and regulates the body's water-balance. When&lt;br /&gt;stressed, our metabolic rate rises thereby reducing&lt;br /&gt;our potassium levels. These can be rebalanced&lt;br /&gt;with the help of a high-potassium banana snack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strokes -- According to research in 'The New&lt;br /&gt;England Journal of Medicine' eating bananas as&lt;br /&gt;part of a regular diet can cut the risk of death by&lt;br /&gt;strokes by as much as 40%!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Warts -- Those keen on natural alternatives swear&lt;br /&gt;that, if you want to kill off a wart, take a piece of&lt;br /&gt;banana skin and place it on the wart, with the&lt;br /&gt;yellow side out. Carefully hold the skin in place&lt;br /&gt;with a plaster or surgical tape!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you see, a banana really is a natural remedy for&lt;br /&gt;many ills. When compared to an apples, bananas&lt;br /&gt;has four times the protein, twice the carbohydrate,&lt;br /&gt;three times the phosphorus, five times the vitamin&lt;br /&gt;A and iron, and twice the other vitamins and&lt;br /&gt;minerals. Being rich also in potassium, it is one of&lt;br /&gt;the best value foods around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So maybe its time to change that well-known&lt;br /&gt;phrase to say, "A Banana a day keeps the doctor&lt;br /&gt;away"!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11819981-111951809936078983?l=piiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/111951809936078983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11819981&amp;postID=111951809936078983' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111951809936078983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111951809936078983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/2005/06/banana.html' title='The Banana'/><author><name>cerise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14694983051662823414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://scd.mm-c.yimg.com/image/616906593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11819981.post-111525705508050321</id><published>2005-05-04T18:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-05-04T18:38:34.866-07:00</updated><title type='text'>(ang cute nitong story na 'to.Ü)</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;One Fine Day...&lt;br /&gt;by Neurotik&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Current is equal to voltage over resistance. Ohm's Law. HUH?!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I looked at the clock at my bedside table. It said 4:00 am. Drat. I'm halfway reviewing this chapter but I can't remember who Johannes Kepler is. Sheesh. I'm working overtime. Wait.. That's power. Shucks. Now I'm applying physics in my life. I am going to flunk this long test whether I memorize a dozen formulas or not. And I thought college was fun. Drat.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;What I need is coffee. Some strong Batangas coffee. Heck, anything that will stimulate me. Wait, I just remembered that I've finished about three pots of coffee already and four bars of dark chocolate. Darn, my lack of sleep is getting better of me. If I could just rest my eyes for a while. Just an eensy, teensy, little wink. Hmmm. That feels great. Aaaah. Hmmm. Hmmm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Ring. Riiiiinggg. Ring.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Hey, how many times are you going to let that alarm clock go off?" my roommate asked me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Whaaattt?!!!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Your alarm clock has gone off for, like four times."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Omigod!!!!! It must have been, like thirty minutes or something. I'm late. Nice going. You study like hell then you're late."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"What time is your long test, anyway?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Nine."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Well, you better hurry 'coz it's 8:25 already."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Thanks for the warning," I said as I ran to the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face. Maybe I am late but I am not about to go to school with dragon breath.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I grabbed the first pair of shorts my hand could reach and wrestled with the shirt I found on my head. Now, where is the hole for the head? Darn. Oh boy. I am so late. I jammed a baseball cap on my head. That will probably spare me some seconds against brushing my hair. Great, now I have to take that test with a cap on. My Birks. Where are they? Ah, a friend borrowed them. Guess I'll have to wear some rubber shoes. Socks. I need socks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Don't forget to zip," my roommate called out as I looked to for my stuff. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Okay. Where are my pends? Wait. I can't take a physics test without my scientific calculator. I grabbed my roommate's scientific calculator for some good measure. Nothing is absolutely worse that a broken calculator during a big test. She can borrow some other's calculator. This is an emergency after all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Cab. I need a cab. Jeepneys would stop for, like a million times just to get their seats filled up. There. There's a taxi. I stepped into the road and waved my hands like crazy to hail the cab.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;" Ma, sa Institute of Physics, ho. Paki-bilisan lang kasi late na ko." I told the cab driver.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Bwisit na mga humps 'to. Ma-lelate ako dahil sa humps.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Miss, mukhang may banggaan sa kanto. Traffic."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Kung malas ka nga naman talaga. Pati traffic galit sa'kin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Dito na lang po ako. Maglalakad na lang po ako. Late na talaga ako." I quickly gave him some cash and said, "Keep the change."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Hmmm. Ganito pala ang ma-late, nagiging generous. Buti na lang naalala kong magdala ng pera.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I ran like crazy on the sidewalk and bumped into this guy. He gave me a funny look and looked at my zipper. I have forgotten to zip after all. So instead of saying sorry to the guy I said, "I'm late. What's your excuse?" And I ran as fast as I could.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;9:05. Did I say how my professor absolutely hates tardiness? Well, he does. No exception to the rule. I am so damn late.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I rushed up the stairs like a madwoman. 9:07. How am I going to explain to the professor why I am late? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;And as I reached our classroom...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"The long test is postponed until next week. An emergency came up," said the note posted on the door. I banged my head eight times. Conut 'em. Same number as the number of minutes I was so-called late. All that fuss for a week later test. Damn.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I went down the building and saw the guy I ran into this morning. He had this silly grin on his face. I looked at my shirt and saw that I wore it backwards. Sheesh. So that was why it felt a little tight. I also had on two different socks. I looked again to see if I had my left shoe on my left foot. I did.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Hey, you've already seen my fly open, my shirt backwards, and my socks mismatched. Can't you feel some sympathy for me?" I shouted as I was crossing the street. Then I saw a car rushing to me. I blanked out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;I opened one eye then another. There's the guy again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Where am I?" I asked.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"My room, you ok? The guy replied.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Yeah, I think. What happened?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"You fainted even before the car hit you."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Blame the caffeine. Hey, thanks."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Don't mention it. Want some breakfast?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Sure."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(from The Magnificat's 2nd Issue, SY 2004-2005)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11819981-111525705508050321?l=piiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/111525705508050321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11819981&amp;postID=111525705508050321' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111525705508050321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111525705508050321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/2005/05/ang-cute-nitong-story-na-to.html' title='(ang cute nitong story na &apos;to.Ü)'/><author><name>cerise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14694983051662823414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://scd.mm-c.yimg.com/image/616906593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11819981.post-111414761008569425</id><published>2005-04-21T22:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-21T22:36:56.526-07:00</updated><title type='text'>wasted</title><content type='html'>Im wasted again pasted out dont know who I am im so wasted again black out dont know where Ive been or who I am i thought I could make it on my own i thought I was indestructible i had an excuse cause i was young i thought I was so untouchable i would throw it all away i would throw my life away im wasted again pasted out dont know who I am im so wasted again black out dont know where Ive been i couldnt admit that I was wrong i didnt fit in didnt belong i was young i was stupid a life of despair i was proud i was angry i just didnt care i was everything I never wanted to be i became my enemy i would throw it all away i would throw my life away im wasted again pasted out dont know who I am im so wasted again black out dont know where Ive been or who I am they Said I had potential they said I got whats coming to me they say I got the devil (the devil) and I dont know whats wrong with me whats wrong with me im wasted again pasted out dont know who I am so wasted again black out dont know where Ive been im wasted again pasted out dont know who I am so wasted again black out dont know where Ive been cause Im wasted again (so wasted) im wasted again so wasted im wasted again so wasted im wasted again so wasted so wasted so wasted so wasted by Goldfinger&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11819981-111414761008569425?l=piiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/111414761008569425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11819981&amp;postID=111414761008569425' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111414761008569425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111414761008569425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/2005/04/wasted.html' title='wasted'/><author><name>cerise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14694983051662823414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://scd.mm-c.yimg.com/image/616906593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11819981.post-111414711623564202</id><published>2005-04-21T22:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-21T22:18:36.236-07:00</updated><title type='text'>pink nail polish</title><content type='html'>Pretty pink bottle, &lt;br /&gt;            never been opened. &lt;br /&gt;Delivered to one so innocent. &lt;br /&gt;      Intensely used for about a &lt;br /&gt;  week to display lovely bright nails. &lt;br /&gt;The &lt;br /&gt;novelty has worn off, &lt;br /&gt;         so the bottle is stuffed into a drawer where many more just like it &lt;br /&gt;                      have been placed. &lt;br /&gt;              Another empty sole &lt;br /&gt;                                                to add to a collection of &lt;br /&gt;abuse.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11819981-111414711623564202?l=piiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/111414711623564202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11819981&amp;postID=111414711623564202' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111414711623564202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111414711623564202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/2005/04/pink-nail-polish.html' title='pink nail polish'/><author><name>cerise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14694983051662823414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://scd.mm-c.yimg.com/image/616906593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11819981.post-111414674223052829</id><published>2005-04-21T22:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-21T22:12:22.230-07:00</updated><title type='text'>crazy but </title><content type='html'>When everything is going wrong &lt;br /&gt;And you can't see the point of going on &lt;br /&gt;Nothing in life is set in stone &lt;br /&gt;There's nothing that can't be turned around &lt;br /&gt;Nobody wants to be alone &lt;br /&gt;Everybody wants to love someone &lt;br /&gt;Out of the tree go pick a plum &lt;br /&gt;Why can't we all just get along  &lt;br /&gt;Boys in the girl's room &lt;br /&gt;Girls in the men's room &lt;br /&gt;You free your mind in your androgyny &lt;br /&gt;Boys in the parlor &lt;br /&gt;They're getting harder &lt;br /&gt;I'll free your mind in your androgyny &lt;br /&gt;No sweeter a taste that you could find &lt;br /&gt;Than fruit hanging ripe upon the vine &lt;br /&gt;There's never been an oyster so divine &lt;br /&gt;A river deep that never runs dry &lt;br /&gt;What you need&lt;br /&gt;The birds and the bees they hum along &lt;br /&gt;Like treasure they twinkle in the sun &lt;br /&gt;Get on board and have some fun &lt;br /&gt;Take what you need to turn you on &lt;br /&gt;Behind closed doors and under stars &lt;br /&gt;It doesn't matter where you are &lt;br /&gt;Collecting jewels that catch your eyes &lt;br /&gt;Don't let a soulmate pass you by &lt;br /&gt;Boys &lt;br /&gt;Girls &lt;br /&gt;Boys &lt;br /&gt;Girls&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11819981-111414674223052829?l=piiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/111414674223052829/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11819981&amp;postID=111414674223052829' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111414674223052829'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111414674223052829'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/2005/04/crazy-but.html' title='&lt;strong&gt;crazy but &lt;/strong&gt;'/><author><name>cerise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14694983051662823414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://scd.mm-c.yimg.com/image/616906593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11819981.post-111345136272360693</id><published>2005-04-13T20:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-17T04:00:51.330-07:00</updated><title type='text'>whew</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, my cousins and I walked from UP to McDonald's Katipunan then from there to Ateneo. Talk about taking a relaxing morning stroll.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11819981-111345136272360693?l=piiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/111345136272360693/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11819981&amp;postID=111345136272360693' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111345136272360693'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111345136272360693'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/2005/04/whew.html' title='whew'/><author><name>cerise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14694983051662823414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://scd.mm-c.yimg.com/image/616906593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11819981.post-111329101913739153</id><published>2005-04-12T00:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-12T00:30:19.140-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Contra</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;An old man turned ninety-eight.&lt;br /&gt;He won the lottery and died the next day.&lt;br /&gt;It's a black fly in your Chardonnay&lt;br /&gt;It's a death row pardon two minutes too late&lt;br /&gt;And isn't it ironic. Don't you think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's like rain on your wedding day.&lt;br /&gt;It's a free ride when you've already paid.&lt;br /&gt;It's the good advice that you just didn't take.&lt;br /&gt;Who would've thought it figures?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Play It Safe was afraid to fly.&lt;br /&gt;He packed his suitcase and kissed his kids goodbye.&lt;br /&gt;He waited his whole damn life to take that flight.&lt;br /&gt;And as the plane crashed down he thought&lt;br /&gt;"Well isn't this nice..."&lt;br /&gt;And isn't it ironic. Don't you think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well life has a funny way of sneaking up on you&lt;br /&gt;When you think everything's okay and everything's going right.&lt;br /&gt;And life has a funny way of helping you out when&lt;br /&gt;You think everything's gone wrong and everything blows up&lt;br /&gt;In your face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A traffic jam when you're already late&lt;br /&gt;A no-smoking sign on your cigarette break&lt;br /&gt;It's like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife.&lt;br /&gt;It's meeting the man of my dreams&lt;br /&gt;And then meeting his beautiful wife.&lt;br /&gt;And isn't it ironic. Don't you think?&lt;br /&gt;A little too ironic and, yea, I really do think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;"&gt;Ironic&lt;br /&gt;Alanis Morissette&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11819981-111329101913739153?l=piiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/111329101913739153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11819981&amp;postID=111329101913739153' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111329101913739153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111329101913739153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/2005/04/contra.html' title='Contra'/><author><name>cerise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14694983051662823414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://scd.mm-c.yimg.com/image/616906593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11819981.post-111329021840930538</id><published>2005-04-12T00:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-12T00:16:58.410-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/181/4502/1024/litchoireco%20035.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' class='phostImg' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/181/4502/400/litchoireco%20035.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My twisted lola-hot-mama-bebe. (elise, bayad mo? haha. mwah.)&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://www.hello.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif' alt='Posted by Hello' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11819981-111329021840930538?l=piiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/111329021840930538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11819981&amp;postID=111329021840930538' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111329021840930538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111329021840930538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/2005/04/my-twisted-lola-hot-mama-bebe.html' title=''/><author><name>cerise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14694983051662823414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://scd.mm-c.yimg.com/image/616906593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11819981.post-111328959246521573</id><published>2005-04-12T00:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-12T00:06:32.466-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the thing</title><content type='html'>Chop suey!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wake up &lt;br /&gt;Grab a brush and put a little makeup.  &lt;br /&gt;Hide the scars to fade away the shakeup. &lt;br /&gt;Why'd you leave the keys upon the table? &lt;br /&gt;Here you go create another fable. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You wanted to &lt;br /&gt;Grab a brush and put a little makeup &lt;br /&gt;You wanted to &lt;br /&gt;Hide the scars to fade away the shakeup &lt;br /&gt;You wanted to &lt;br /&gt;Why'd you leave the keys upon the table? &lt;br /&gt;You wanted to &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think you trust &lt;br /&gt;In my self righteous suicide &lt;br /&gt;I cry when angels deserve to die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Father, into your hands I commend my spirit. &lt;br /&gt;Father into your hands &lt;br /&gt;Why have you forsaken me? &lt;br /&gt;In your eyes forsaken me &lt;br /&gt;In your thoughts forsaken me &lt;br /&gt;In your heart forsaken me.&lt;br /&gt;Oh, trust in my self righteous suicide &lt;br /&gt;I cry when angels deserve to die &lt;br /&gt;In my self righteous suicide &lt;br /&gt;I cry when angels deserve to die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chop suey!&lt;br /&gt;System of a Down&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11819981-111328959246521573?l=piiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/111328959246521573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11819981&amp;postID=111328959246521573' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111328959246521573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111328959246521573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/2005/04/thing.html' title='the thing'/><author><name>cerise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14694983051662823414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://scd.mm-c.yimg.com/image/616906593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11819981.post-111328760603219197</id><published>2005-04-11T23:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-11T23:33:26.033-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Karol is not the God, or not.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Not.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was human.&lt;br /&gt;He was a priest.&lt;br /&gt;He got sick.&lt;br /&gt;He died.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Think again.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christ was said to be partly human.&lt;br /&gt;Christ was a preacher and a person who loved to pray, just like a priest.&lt;br /&gt;Christ was not said to have any sicknesses. But, though Paul was a very sickly man, he was able to do a lot of wondrous deeds through the seemingly divine strength that radiated from him even during his sick times.&lt;br /&gt;Christ, if he was truly partly human, died, too. But, he was the son of god, a part of the “threefold.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, by transitive property of equality, Karol is the God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What now.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11819981-111328760603219197?l=piiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/111328760603219197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11819981&amp;postID=111328760603219197' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111328760603219197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111328760603219197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/2005/04/karol-is-not-god-or-not.html' title='Karol is not &lt;/strong&gt;the God, &lt;strong&gt;or not.'/><author><name>cerise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14694983051662823414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://scd.mm-c.yimg.com/image/616906593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11819981.post-111285781699395061</id><published>2005-04-06T23:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-07T00:13:27.593-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Trust (Get into it.)</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;gateway&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;n&lt;/em&gt; : an opening for a gate in a wall or fence; a passage into or out of a place or state&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ultimo&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;adj&lt;/em&gt; : of or occuring the month preceding the present&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;hyperemia&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;n&lt;/em&gt; : excess of blood in a body part&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;rectilinear&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;adj&lt;/em&gt; : moving in, or being in, or forming a straight line&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;novena&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;n&lt;/em&gt; : a Roman Catholic devotion in which prayers are said for the same purpose on nine successive days&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;smog&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;n&lt;/em&gt; : a thick haze caused by the action of sunlight on air polluted by smoke and automobile exhaust fumes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;muss&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;n&lt;/em&gt; : a state of disorder&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;kill&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;v&lt;/em&gt; : to deprive of life; to put to death&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;keet&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;n&lt;/em&gt; : a young guinea fowl [imitative]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;espionage&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;n&lt;/em&gt; : the practice of spying or the use of spies to obtain information about the plans and activities of others&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;hypocrisy&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;n&lt;/em&gt; : a pretending to be what one is not or to believe what one does not&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;short-horned&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;adj&lt;/em&gt; : having short horns or antennae&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;hysteria&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;n&lt;/em&gt; : a neurosis marked by emotional excitability and a tendency to develop sensory and physical disturbances with no apparent organic basis&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;stipulate&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;v&lt;/em&gt; : to make an agreement or arrange as part of an agreement&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;zombie&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;n&lt;/em&gt; : a human in the West Indies without will or the power of speech and capable only of automatic movement who is held to have died and been reanimated but often believed to have been drugged&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;waggle&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;v&lt;/em&gt; : to move backward and forward or from side to side&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*START* &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11819981-111285781699395061?l=piiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/111285781699395061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11819981&amp;postID=111285781699395061' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111285781699395061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111285781699395061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/2005/04/trust-get-into-it.html' title='&lt;strong&gt;Trust&lt;/strong&gt; (Get into it.)'/><author><name>cerise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14694983051662823414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://scd.mm-c.yimg.com/image/616906593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11819981.post-111285427369653983</id><published>2005-04-06T23:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-06T23:11:13.696-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/181/4502/1024/bright.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' class='phostImg' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/181/4502/400/bright1.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bright.&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://www.hello.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif' alt='Posted by Hello' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11819981-111285427369653983?l=piiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/111285427369653983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11819981&amp;postID=111285427369653983' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111285427369653983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111285427369653983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/2005/04/bright_111285427369653983.html' title=''/><author><name>cerise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14694983051662823414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://scd.mm-c.yimg.com/image/616906593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11819981.post-111285373209398126</id><published>2005-04-06T22:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-06T23:02:12.093-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Darkness by Christinia</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;If only it were so simple,&lt;br /&gt;to cruise through life smelling roses;&lt;br /&gt;but the obstacles blacken the countryside,&lt;br /&gt;and we unwittingly crush them beneath our boots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dreams sustain us through the madness;&lt;br /&gt;goals give a finish line to our race.&lt;br /&gt;Yet they change with every turn, around every wall,&lt;br /&gt;and remain elusive throughout the quest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mistakes are made, and regrets are our luggage;&lt;br /&gt;we will drag them with us to slow us down.&lt;br /&gt;The victories are flashes of light, sudden and unlasting, which allow us&lt;br /&gt;to glimpse the road ahead before darkness descends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love is bitter, yet it is the bread that keeps us.&lt;br /&gt;Over and over it fills us up, only to starve us.&lt;br /&gt;The people whom we love shape our destinies and our strengths,&lt;br /&gt;yet leave us cold and alone in the darkness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are others trying to race to the end;&lt;br /&gt;occasionally, we bump into one or two.&lt;br /&gt;The bonds we form help us down the path less lonely&lt;br /&gt;but eventually, we lose each other in the darkness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alone is not a bad way to be;&lt;br /&gt;it clears your head and focuses you on the journey.&lt;br /&gt;Cherish the short intervals during the quest you have with others,&lt;br /&gt;but be prepared to walk alone in the darkness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11819981-111285373209398126?l=piiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/111285373209398126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11819981&amp;postID=111285373209398126' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111285373209398126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111285373209398126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/2005/04/darkness-by-christinia.html' title='&lt;strong&gt;The Darkness&lt;/strong&gt; by Christinia'/><author><name>cerise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14694983051662823414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://scd.mm-c.yimg.com/image/616906593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11819981.post-111278282909632844</id><published>2005-04-06T03:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-06T22:39:45.463-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/181/4502/640/flower1.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/181/4502/320/flower1.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fiscal boom. smiley.&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://www.hello.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif' alt='Posted by Hello' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11819981-111278282909632844?l=piiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/111278282909632844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11819981&amp;postID=111278282909632844' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111278282909632844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111278282909632844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/2005/04/fiscal-boom.html' title=''/><author><name>cerise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14694983051662823414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://scd.mm-c.yimg.com/image/616906593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11819981.post-111278118703429526</id><published>2005-04-06T02:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-06T03:02:54.013-07:00</updated><title type='text'>(If) I was a rich girl</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;If I was a rich girl&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;n&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;a-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-naaa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;See, I'd have all the money in the world, if I was a wealthy girl.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;No man could test me, impress me, my cash flow would never ever end&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Cause I'd have all the money in the world, if I was a wealthy girl. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Think what that money could bring. I'd buy everything. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Clean out Vivienne Westwood, in my Galliano gown&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;No, wouldn't just have one hood. A Hollywood mansion if I could. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Please book me first class to my fancy house in London town. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;All the riches baby, won't mean anything. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;All the riches baby, don't bring what your love can bring. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;All the riches baby, won't mean anything. Don't need no other, baby.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Your lovin' is better than gold and I know. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;I'd get me four Harajuku girls to inspire me and they'd come to my rescue.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;I'd dress them wicked, I'd give them names. Love, Angel, Music, Baby. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Hurry up and come and save me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11819981-111278118703429526?l=piiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/111278118703429526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11819981&amp;postID=111278118703429526' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111278118703429526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111278118703429526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/2005/04/if-i-was-rich-girl.html' title='&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;(If)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; I was a rich girl'/><author><name>cerise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14694983051662823414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://scd.mm-c.yimg.com/image/616906593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11819981.post-111278027305098316</id><published>2005-04-06T02:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-06T02:37:53.056-07:00</updated><title type='text'>gee i like to think of dead by e.e. cummings</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;gee i like to think of dead it means nearer because deeper firmer &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;since darker than little round water at one end of the well it's &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;too cool to be crooked and it's too firm to be hard but it's sharp &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;and thick and it loves, every old thing falls in rosebugs and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;jackknives and kittens and pennies they all sit there looking at &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;each other having the fastest time because they've never met before&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;dead's more even than how many ways of sitting on your head your &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;unnatural hair has in the morning&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;dead's clever too like POF goes the alarm off and the little striker &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;having the best time tickling away everybody's brain so everybody &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;just puts out their finger and they stuff the poor thing all full &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;of fingers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;dead has a smile like the nicest man you've never met who maybe winks &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;at you in a streetcar and you pretend you don't but really you do &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;see and you are My how glad he winked and hope he'll do it again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;or if it talks about you somewhere behind your back it makes your neck &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;feel pleasant and stoopid and if dead says may i have this one and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;was never introduced you say Yes because you know you want it to dance&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;with you and it wants to and it can dance and Whocares&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;dead's fine like hands do you see that water flowerpots in windows but &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;they live higher in their house than you so that's all you &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;see but you don't want to&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;dead's happy like the way underclothes All so differently solemn and inti and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;sitting on one string&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;dead never says my dear,Time for your musiclesson and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;you like music &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;to have somebody play who can but you know you never can and why have to?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;dead's nice like a dance where you danced simple hours and you take all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;your prickly-clothes off and squeeze-into-largeness without one word and&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;you lie still as anything in largeness and this largeness begins to give &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;you,the dance all over again and you,feel all again all over the way men&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;you liked made you feel when they touched you(but that's not all)because&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;largeness tells you so you can feel what you made,men feel when,you touched,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;them&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;dead's sorry like a thistlefluff-thing which goes landing away all by &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;himself on somebody's roof or something where who-ever-heard-of-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;growing and nobody expects you to anyway&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;dead says come with me he says(andwhyevernot)into the round well and see the kitten and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;the penny and the jackknife and the rosebug &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;and you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;say Sure you say (like that) sure i'll come with you you say for i&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;like kittens i do and jackknives i do and pennies i do and rosebugs i do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11819981-111278027305098316?l=piiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/111278027305098316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11819981&amp;postID=111278027305098316' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111278027305098316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111278027305098316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/2005/04/gee-i-like-to-think-of-dead-by-ee.html' title='&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;gee i like to think of dead&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; by e.e. cummings'/><author><name>cerise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14694983051662823414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://scd.mm-c.yimg.com/image/616906593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11819981.post-111277781863131429</id><published>2005-04-06T01:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-06T01:56:58.633-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Time</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#000000;"&gt;No one has ever explained what time really is. Even Einstein had a hard time trying to discover the true meaning and concept of time. Where did time come from? Who controls time? Who knows what the real time is? What is forever?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time is the only thing that is present since before the Big Bang or the Creation. But, nobody ever saw time. Yes, people look at time, but no one has ever seen it.&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes, I think of time as universally undetectable, electromagnetic-mechanical waves springing from all matter and traveling in all directions faster than the speed of light. As these waves travel, they create a worldly rhythm like: tick-tock-tick-tock. This rhythm has three different dimensions which define the types of time, namely: past, present, and future. I often imagine the past, present, and the future all happening at the same time. The thought is kind of strange, but it may be possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of us think that this time is the present. But how can we be certain that this is really the present? What if all this while, we live in the time called past and the present is our future? Or, if we really are in the present, how do we know that all the people here with us are from the present too, considering that in the future, technology is advanced and people ride time machines to go back to their past, which is the present? The idea gets even more confusing if we are in the future, for everything is past and there is no more future. Makes sense, huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**********&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11819981-111277781863131429?l=piiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/111277781863131429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11819981&amp;postID=111277781863131429' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111277781863131429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111277781863131429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/2005/04/time.html' title='Time'/><author><name>cerise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14694983051662823414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://scd.mm-c.yimg.com/image/616906593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11819981.post-111270006212522389</id><published>2005-04-05T04:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-05T04:21:02.126-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/181/4502/640/einstein_bulb.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/181/4502/320/einstein_bulb.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*tada!* I have an idea!&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://www.hello.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif' alt='Posted by Hello' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11819981-111270006212522389?l=piiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/111270006212522389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11819981&amp;postID=111270006212522389' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111270006212522389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111270006212522389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/2005/04/tada-i-have-idea.html' title=''/><author><name>cerise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14694983051662823414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://scd.mm-c.yimg.com/image/616906593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11819981.post-111252973099534785</id><published>2005-04-03T05:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-03T05:02:10.996-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/181/4502/640/abortionegg.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/181/4502/320/abortionegg.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abortion is a choice. Make the right decision. &amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://www.hello.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif' alt='Posted by Hello' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11819981-111252973099534785?l=piiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/111252973099534785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11819981&amp;postID=111252973099534785' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111252973099534785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111252973099534785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/2005/04/abortion-is-choice.html' title=''/><author><name>cerise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14694983051662823414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://scd.mm-c.yimg.com/image/616906593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11819981.post-111252795428824716</id><published>2005-04-03T03:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2005-04-03T04:32:34.290-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tungkol sa araw na ito.</title><content type='html'>This day was exceptionally weird. After almost seven days of doing nothing, today was supposed to be the day when I get to go somewhere or actually do something for a change. I don't know. I actually had plans of things to go to the whole day but I'm still bored. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parish, bored. Shang, bored. Lola's, bored. Metro East, bored. Mark's, bored.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**********&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning, the Pope died. (*moment of silence*) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother was literally glued to the television since yesterday because she was waiting for the announcement of the death of the "Holy Father". The funny thing was she fell asleep right before the announcement. (*yung smiley sa ym na tumatawa na gumugulong*) At this moment, mom is (guess what?) still glued to the television. But this time, she's crying and taking pictures of the Pope's (well, former) lifeless and dead (how redundant) body.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**********&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning, there was an earthquake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yea, there was an intensity 4.3 earthquake earlier this day at about 9.45am. Nobody really felt it except for the people from Tagaytay and Mindoro. During the news report about the said earthquake, one particularly innocent newsperson asked the guest Seismologist if a tsunami (chu-nah-mee) should be expected. The irritated Seismologist stared blankly at the newsperson and, in a clear and lifeless voice, said, "No." (*silence*)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**********&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning, I went to the UP Parish of the Holy Sacrifice for an organization meeting. bow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**********&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This afternoon, I went to the Shang for lunch. With me were my parents, my cousins, and my tita's. After eating, we decided to check on my Lola. So we went there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**********&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This afternoon, I went to my Lola's house in Bago Bantay, Quezon City. When I went inside her room, she was wearing pyjamas and socks and was tucked inside a blanket. Wiping the sweat on my forehead caused by the extreme heat outside my Lola's room, I asked her why she turned on the aircon when she was already feeling cold. She just kissed me and asked me how I am. (Talk about changing the subject.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**********&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This afternoon, I went to Robinson's Metro East for my dad's haircut. It took us almost an hour to reach the place because the traffic was heavy. (His favorite trim shop is in Metro East so we had to be patient. He won't agree to have his hair cut in another trim shop other than his favorite.) When we finally got there, we went straight to his "favorite" barber shop. Then, we just stayed there for (what!?) thirty minutes then we left immediately. (Talk about wasting gasoline.) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**********&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This afternoon, I went to my cousin's house which was situated just beside our house. Then, I went home. period.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;___________________________________________&lt;br /&gt;********** - car ride&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11819981-111252795428824716?l=piiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/111252795428824716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11819981&amp;postID=111252795428824716' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111252795428824716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111252795428824716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/2005/04/tungkol-sa-araw-na-ito.html' title='Tungkol sa araw na ito.'/><author><name>cerise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14694983051662823414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://scd.mm-c.yimg.com/image/616906593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11819981.post-111243888242974622</id><published>2005-04-02T02:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-04-02T02:48:02.430-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/181/4502/640/puzzle.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/181/4502/320/puzzle.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You make me and break me.&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://www.hello.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif' alt='Posted by Hello' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11819981-111243888242974622?l=piiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/111243888242974622/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11819981&amp;postID=111243888242974622' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111243888242974622'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111243888242974622'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/2005/04/you-make-me-and-break-me.html' title=''/><author><name>cerise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14694983051662823414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://scd.mm-c.yimg.com/image/616906593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11819981.post-111243493429728364</id><published>2005-04-02T01:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-04-02T01:42:14.296-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hinga lang.</title><content type='html'>I've been driving for an hour just talking to the rain.&lt;br /&gt;You say I've been driving you crazy and it's keeping you away.&lt;br /&gt;So just give me one good reason, tell my why I should stay&lt;br /&gt;'Cause I don't want to waste another moment saying things we never meant to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I take it just a little bit&lt;br /&gt;I hold my breath and count to ten&lt;br /&gt;I've been waiting for a chance to let you in&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I just breathe and let it fill the space between&lt;br /&gt;Everything is alright.&lt;br /&gt;Breathe every little piece of me, you'll see everything is alright&lt;br /&gt;If I just breathe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well the talks are overrated. Am I saying how you feel?&lt;br /&gt;So you end up watching chances fade and wondering what's real.&lt;br /&gt;And I get you just a little time and wonder if you realize&lt;br /&gt;I've been waiting 'til I see it in your eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been driving for an hour just talking to the rain.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11819981-111243493429728364?l=piiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/111243493429728364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11819981&amp;postID=111243493429728364' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111243493429728364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111243493429728364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/2005/04/hinga-lang.html' title='Hinga lang.'/><author><name>cerise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14694983051662823414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://scd.mm-c.yimg.com/image/616906593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11819981.post-111242985716000494</id><published>2005-04-01T23:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-04-02T00:17:37.166-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mamamatay na daw si Pope.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"&gt;(ang problema ng mundo.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"&gt;Death&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;          &lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;How to cope with the inevitability and finality of death was one of the more disturbing of the many troubling questions which prompted the writing of 'Foundations'. It also provided the motive for the proposal to establish the Society of HumanKind. The hope which that first founding book creates is that by our own efforts in and through the Society we will gain eternal life for ourselves and for every member of our species. If we are to dedicate ourselves to the achievement of that Aim we must truly believe that it will be realised. The corollary must be an equal conviction that both the dead and the yet to be born are not forever lost to us, a consequence which gives the Treatise on Morality its force.&lt;br /&gt;          Adherence to the Society of HumanKind and a sincere commitment to its Aim must mean that we believe the death of an individual to be no more than a transition from one state of existence to another. That assurance may provide some comfort to us when we face our own mortality but it can offer little to help us to cope with the passing of those we love. Death will still irrecoverably separate us from them. The Society will not give its support to any attempt to communicate with the dead. The risks involved for the natural progression of our history, and for the achievement of our Aim are incalculable and therefore unacceptable. We must learn to accept that once we have lost one of our companions to death, they are gone to us for the rest of our lives. The Society and our faith in it may lead us to the confident hope that we will meet them again, and in better circumstances, but we will still have to live without them, and with the pain and distress of their absence.&lt;br /&gt;          Much of the pain of death for the living comes from a sense of loss. It marks an end to all the possibilities both for ourselves and for the departed that might have been realised by a longer life. Yet the Principle of Peace and the Treatise on the Individual both emphasise our inability to judge the value of the existence of any individual with any certainty. How then can we even estimate what any individual might have contributed to our society had they lived longer? How can we begin to guess what might have happened in our lives had they still been with us? An understanding of the Principle of Peace must lead us to recognise that we have no measure by which we can judge whether it was better for any individual to have lived a longer, or for that matter, a shorter life.&lt;br /&gt;          Or even to have lived at all. Only if the achievement of the Objective of the Dogma is followed by a realisation of the Aim of the Society of HumanKind will we be able to say with any confidence that every individual lived for as long as was needed, and that they made their proper contribution to the survival and progress of humanity. Only then can we be sure that no-one lives or dies in vain. If that Aim is not realised however, then no matter how great the impact of any human life, or how valuable its contribution to the history of our species, both for us and for the departed, all will vanish like a stick snatched from water, leaving no trace.&lt;br /&gt;We honour the dead therefore by working to reunify humanity outside the constraints of our mortality, which is the cause of their loss to us. We cannot ease our pain by attempting to estimate the value of their lives, because we have no means to make that judgement. All we can do is to strengthen our resolve to accomplish their salvation, a task to which they can make no further contribution.&lt;br /&gt;          Let us therefore mark the occasion of death as the moment simply to give thanks for the life of the departed. If we truly believe that the Objective of the Dogma will be achieved then we must be confident that the existence of the deceased will contribute to that success. In that faith we can rededicate ourselves to the discharge of our Duty, through a renewed determination to build the realisation of the Aim of the Society of HumanKind upon the work and achievements of all our predecessors, not just the one that might be specially in our thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;In the presence of death we must look to the future and give thanks for our existence; our culture; our knowledge; our peace; and our unity. That is the priceless gift of the dead and the foundation on which we must build our hopes for their salvation, and for that of all humanity. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.society-of-humankind.com/essay_death.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;http://www.society-of-humankind.com/essay_death.html&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11819981-111242985716000494?l=piiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/111242985716000494/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11819981&amp;postID=111242985716000494' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111242985716000494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111242985716000494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/2005/04/mamamatay-na-daw-si-pope.html' title='Mamamatay na daw si Pope.'/><author><name>cerise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14694983051662823414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://scd.mm-c.yimg.com/image/616906593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11819981.post-111242810753710641</id><published>2005-04-01T23:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-04-02T01:27:23.453-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Beauty of a Woman</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;A little boy asked his mother, "Why are you crying?" "Because I'm a woman," she told him. "I don't understand," he said. His Mom just hugged him and said, "And you never will." Later the little boy asked his father, "Why does mother seem to cry for no reason?" "All women cry for no reason," was all his dad could say. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;The little boy grew up and became a man, still wondering why women cry. Finally he put in a call to God. When God got on the phone, he asked, "God, why do women cry so easily?" God said: "When I made the woman she had to be special. I made her shoulders strong enough to carry the weight of the world, yet gentle enough to give comfort. I gave her an inner strength to endure childbirth and the rejection that many times comes from her children. I gave her a hardness that allows her to keep going when everyone else gives up, and take care of her family through sickness and fatigue without complaining. I gave her the sensitivity to love her children under any and all circumstances, even when her child has hurt her very badly. I gave her strength to carry her husband through his faults and fashioned her from his rib to protect his heart. I gave her wisdom to know that a good husband never hurts his wife, but sometimes tests her strengths and her resolve to stand beside him unfalteringly. And finally, I gave her a tear to shed. This is hers exclusively to use whenever it is needed." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;"You see my son," said God, "the beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears, the figure that she carries, or the way she combs her hair. The beauty of a woman must be seen in her eyes, because that is the doorway to her heart - the place where love resides." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cool.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11819981-111242810753710641?l=piiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/111242810753710641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11819981&amp;postID=111242810753710641' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111242810753710641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111242810753710641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/2005/04/beauty-of-woman.html' title='The Beauty of a Woman'/><author><name>cerise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14694983051662823414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://scd.mm-c.yimg.com/image/616906593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11819981.post-111226148942575749</id><published>2005-03-31T01:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-31T01:31:29.426-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Insensitive</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;How do you cool your lips after the summer's kiss?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;How do you rid the seat after the body bliss?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;How do you turn your eyes from the romantic glare?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;How do you block the sound of a voice you'll know anywhere?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;I really should've known by the time you drove me home&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;By the vagueness in your eyes, the natural goodbyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;By the chill in your embrace, the expression of your face&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;That told me maybe you might have some advice to give on how to be&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;Insensitive.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;How do you numb your skin after the warmest touch?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;How do you slow your blood after the body rush?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;How do you free your soul after you've found a friend?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"&gt;How do you teach your heart it's a crime to fall in love again?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11819981-111226148942575749?l=piiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/111226148942575749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11819981&amp;postID=111226148942575749' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111226148942575749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111226148942575749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/2005/03/insensitive.html' title='Insensitive'/><author><name>cerise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14694983051662823414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://scd.mm-c.yimg.com/image/616906593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11819981.post-111226078851370990</id><published>2005-03-31T00:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-04-02T01:22:03.570-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Freaker</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Yesterday, my friends and I went to Gateway to watch a movie. It took us a long time to buy our tickets because we couldn't decide on which movie to pick. After the long discussions and debates, we ended up watching &lt;strong&gt;Be Cool&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before the movie started, I thought I wouldn't be able to appreciate the movie that much because I didn't know what the movie is about. All I knew was that it had John Travolta and Uma Thurman in it. But, the movie turned out to be good and I pretty much enjoyed it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, if you're planning to watch this movie, here are some things you should expect:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Men wearing toupees should use low calibrated firearms only.&lt;br /&gt;2. Mourning widows tend to drink while sunbathing when left unsupervised.&lt;br /&gt;3. Your body and your car must be proportional.&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;strong&gt;The Rock&lt;/strong&gt;, the former wrestler (&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Do you smeeeeell...?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;), is versatile. Very.&lt;br /&gt;5. Gangsters travel in packs. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;rawr yeo&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;6. Movie actors that venture into the music business are oftentimes underrated.&lt;br /&gt;7. Uma Thurman wears fabulous clothes, even when sleeping.&lt;br /&gt;8. Christina Milian can sing. Super.&lt;br /&gt;9. John Travolta is so damn calm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All these and more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*bow*&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11819981-111226078851370990?l=piiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/111226078851370990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11819981&amp;postID=111226078851370990' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111226078851370990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111226078851370990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/2005/03/freaker.html' title='Freaker'/><author><name>cerise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14694983051662823414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://scd.mm-c.yimg.com/image/616906593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11819981.post-111225855231462916</id><published>2005-03-31T00:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-03-31T00:42:32.316-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Monday</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;This is nice.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/11819981-111225855231462916?l=piiaa.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/feeds/111225855231462916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=11819981&amp;postID=111225855231462916' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111225855231462916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/11819981/posts/default/111225855231462916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://piiaa.blogspot.com/2005/03/monday.html' title='Monday'/><author><name>cerise</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14694983051662823414</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://scd.mm-c.yimg.com/image/616906593.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
