God, bloggy. Being in-love sucks, huh? Well, I shouldn't even know that because I haven't been in a working and fo' real relationship before with my significant other. If I have one, that is.
So, what's with the love starter? I don't know. Like most of you guys, I also think that I'm a creature invulnerable to that stupid love cherub(Cupid, for you dumb-asses). Like I've said before, I don't deserve to love. People as obnoxious and repulsive and as fat as me don't have the right to. We can only love ourselves, and God, for those of you who aren't as God-forbidding as I am.
But what the hell did The Big Guy told that love gremlin to do again? Yes. The stupid love cherub got me in the chokehold. I'm not even supposed to be chokeholded, but ugh. Look what He just did. No way it's going to be MY fault.
But, whatever. Wish me bad luck.
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I woke up early today to go to the gym, but it's too early anyway so I opened Mac and wrote these thoughts that are stuck somewhere in my foot.
I was listening to Chico and Delamar while getting prep'd up to burn calories at Fitness First, and I heard one quote that truly struck me to pieces. Grease Lightning my butt.
The quote was.. "You don't have the right to point out the mistakes of others if you, yourself, can't even correct your own."
It was more than correct. And precise. And true. AND REALISTIC, to my part, that is.
Let me admit, I DO BACKSTAB PEOPLE. But there are choices I have to go through before I backstab one.
She or He...
-should be dumber than my dog
-should be really, really, really obnoxious to the point that THAT person's way more obnoxious than me already.
-should be a hardcore go getta.
-should be on my "PEOPLE TO KILL WHEN I DOMINATE THE WORLD LIST"
-should be a player.
-should piss my ass off
-should criticize me
-should tell people how fat my ass can get
-should be kind to me, in a way that it's really disturbing already.
So, watch out, b*tches.
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GAAH! That first two parts of this blog post was really something.
And so, as I was saying, I went to Fitness First lately. I studied, and answered our Physics take home test. Huh. I laughed my head out yesterday when Sir Jeff told us that our test 2 in his subject would be taken home. Didn't he know that we can cheat?
God, he really knew what he just did. The Physics take home test was a real headache. I thought that my migraine was just caused by the HOTTA HOT HOT weather outside. But no. It was caused by how the hell should I know what time would Plane A overtake Plane B.
And so, as I was punching numbers on my quasi-broken calculator, THE TRAINER approached me. Mixed feelings, again. And again. And again.
It has been weeks since our first session. I then remembered how crazy I would always get every time we talked and laughed and stuff. I would go gaga over his muscular build, and his pearly whites.
Well, it all just stopped.
Anyways, he approached me. Then he asked what was I doing. Then I showed him my Plane-A-overtaking-Plane-B calculations. He said he was amazed. Then he told me that he hated Physics. Yeah, like I need to know that from my bisexual trainer.
Let me explain. When you seem to be dwelling for someone, your past is all forgotten. It's all what's happening now. Look now. No more psychedelic feelings for my gay trainer.
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Have I told you what happened LAST Friday? Yeah well I can't. Monica would definitely kill me if I did.
But here's the low-down. Now I understand why some friends can't get along with their friend's significant lover. It's either me, or it's definitely me.
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