<?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-13808692</id><updated>2012-02-11T18:53:25.465-08:00</updated><category term='milk'/><category term='emo'/><category term='education'/><category term='malantot'/><category term='LoL'/><category term='crap'/><category term='ditzyeah'/><title type='text'>My Name Is ....</title><subtitle type='html'>How my life can be summed up to PS2, instant noodles and indoor plumbing</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>45</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13808692.post-1612943423120336150</id><published>2007-12-19T08:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-19T08:58:47.857-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>O kay bilis ng panahon&lt;br /&gt;Namalayan bang tapos na ang taon?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mga ngiti't mga tawang&lt;br /&gt;Pinagsamahan sa bawat oras&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kaya mo bang iwanan?&lt;br /&gt;Kaya mo bang kalimutan?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ang pagkakaibigan at pagmamahalan&lt;br /&gt;Dulot ng bawat isa&lt;br /&gt;Ng bawat araw na tayo ay magkasama&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hindi ko malilimutan ang ating samahan&lt;br /&gt;Hindi ko tatalikuran ang ating pagkakaibigan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hirap na nakamit&lt;br /&gt;Sa bawat tawa nasusulit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sa oras na ika'y bibigay&lt;br /&gt;Kami sayo'y nakaalalay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wag mong kalimutan&lt;br /&gt;Wag mong talikuran&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ang pagkakaibigan at pagmamahalan&lt;br /&gt;Dulot ng bawat isa&lt;br /&gt;Ng bawat araw na tayo ay magkasama&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hindi ko malilimutan ang ating samahan&lt;br /&gt;Hindi ko tatalikuran ang ating pagkakaibigan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tayo ay magkakalayo&lt;br /&gt;Sasabak na sa ibang mundo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At kung di mo na kakayanin&lt;br /&gt;Kami'y nandito para ika'y akayin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wag mong kalimutan&lt;br /&gt;Wag mong talikuran&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ang pagkakaibigan at pagmamahalan&lt;br /&gt;Dulot ng bawat isa&lt;br /&gt;Ng bawat araw na tayo ay magkasama&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hindi ko malilimutan ang ating samahan&lt;br /&gt;Hindi ko tatalikuran ang ating pagkakaibigan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GRAD SONG&lt;br /&gt; - Russel ^__^&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13808692-1612943423120336150?l=guiltygear13.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/1612943423120336150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13808692&amp;postID=1612943423120336150&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/1612943423120336150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/1612943423120336150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/2007/12/o-kay-bilis-ng-panahon-namalayan-bang.html' title=''/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13808692.post-2854572379640727065</id><published>2007-12-19T04:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-19T04:21:51.786-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>MY NAME IS...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, my friend from Japan phoned me. She said she had come to the Philippines and will stay here for Christmas with some of her relatives. I knew Terumi Naitou back when she was a foreign exchange student in high school. We shared similar interests so we became friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was her guide to the local culture. I was her confidante during her stay. I was her friend. Correction. I'm still her friend. Yes, even though, we haven't seen each other in two to three years, we've been keeping in touch with each other. Heh, I even remember when she sent me an original autographed DVD copy of Cutie Honey (w/c I almost sold in E-Bay but didn't because of the overwhelming sentimental value. I love you, Terumi hehehehe  ^__^') and an advanced copy of FF-12(you're unberibaburyaaaaaaaaa!!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her family acknowledged me as one of her closest friends and, thus, giving me a name that meant I would be considered as part of their family. Right now, I'm still a bit teary-eyed because they deemed me special enough to be given such an honor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They named me after Terumi's late grandfather, Naitou Hisamezawa, whom Rumi-chan was especially close to. I've only talked to her Oji-chama twice but I immediately saw that he was a remarkably guy. He even told me that the feeling was mutual, that he was glad I took good care of his granddaughter, that he talked to me and treated me like I was also his grandchild. Arigato, Jiji. Rest in peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that's how I became a part of a family a thousand miles away. THat's how I became closer to Terumi and the rest of the Naitou household.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was how I became Naitou Hisame.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13808692-2854572379640727065?l=guiltygear13.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/2854572379640727065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13808692&amp;postID=2854572379640727065&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/2854572379640727065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/2854572379640727065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-name-is.html' title=''/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13808692.post-1874433854505500219</id><published>2007-12-19T02:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-19T02:56:01.329-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>JUST BECAUSE IT'S CUTE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i156.photobucket.com/albums/t30/honkytonks/ththth1144a407.gif" border="0" alt="Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i156.photobucket.com/albums/t30/honkytonks/1127676067_m-1.gif" border="0" alt="Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13808692-1874433854505500219?l=guiltygear13.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/1874433854505500219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13808692&amp;postID=1874433854505500219&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/1874433854505500219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/1874433854505500219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/2007/12/just-because-its-cute.html' title=''/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13808692.post-2448756100974349794</id><published>2007-12-16T17:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-16T19:01:36.857-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='LoL'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>THE SHINDIG BEFORE CHRISTMAS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woohoo! The LoL Part-ay was a blast. Everyone came in costume, the theme being Tim Burton's Nightmare Before Christmas. Everyone was dressed in either a depressing or a gothic lolita mood. Hehe, even Yaoi-cahn came as her gender and I came (dramatic pause) fully-clothed. I know, scary. At least the Prince of Tennis didn'y show up with hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The event was supposed to be a cross between Halloween and Christmas because the brigade wouldn't be able to throw part-ays on the proper dates. But even though the facade seemed a little unorthodox... inappropriate... weird even, but it was the most fun the brigade ever had together. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, as one would expect, one can never put a party within a time frame, especially an LoL one. We all wanted more but sooner or later, it had to end. But by the end of the day, everyone was happy... and not drunk (drat)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, ?I have to go. I'll just fix this post later on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. by the way, the LoL now has a Second Impact, the new members being Banana (my son/daughter = sando), Unicorn (a "backfighter") and Ketch (Thank you for HARUKI MURAKAMI!!!!!!!!!!). Oh, we have a mascot now, but I'll leave that for the next post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Ciao. ^_^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fox Kiddo, Out!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13808692-2448756100974349794?l=guiltygear13.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/2448756100974349794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13808692&amp;postID=2448756100974349794&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/2448756100974349794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/2448756100974349794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/2007/12/shindig-before-christmas-woohoo-lol.html' title=''/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13808692.post-6137330566709712600</id><published>2007-12-14T06:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-14T06:44:00.669-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='LoL'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>WORKS IN PROGRESS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, to break free from my usual crappy posts, I've decided to put up a list of WIP's I've been doing and hoping that I finish before the school year ends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Draft of the LoL Book of Knowledge &lt;br /&gt;   - What's done so far:&lt;br /&gt;      - The History of LoL&lt;br /&gt;      - Basic character introduction (LoL: First Generation)&lt;br /&gt;   - What's still needed:&lt;br /&gt;      - Character Description&lt;br /&gt;         - Updates on First Generation&lt;br /&gt;         - Description for Second Impact&lt;br /&gt;      - The Analects (:P)&lt;br /&gt;      - LoL Quotable Quotes (Kapal ng mukha! Pinigpipilitan nya sarili nya sa kin!)&lt;br /&gt;      - LoL Chronology&lt;br /&gt;      - LoL Family Cycle&lt;br /&gt;      - Uh... Whatever else I forgot (Suggestions, LoL?)&lt;br /&gt;2) Sprites for the LoL Video Game&lt;br /&gt;   * Spriting from scratch. Need help here, too. T_T&lt;br /&gt;3) Plans for LoL Forum / Website (Whaaaat? It could happen)&lt;br /&gt;4) LoL: the Graphic Novel (Yes, it's true!)&lt;br /&gt;   - What's done so far:&lt;br /&gt;     -  Concept Art&lt;br /&gt;     -  Episode Zero (60%) - a short installment involving a few key character   intros and a precognition on future key events.&lt;br /&gt;5) LoL fanfics&lt;br /&gt;   * Just one-shots. Most of which I'd like to keep private at the moment. And, yes, Yaoi-chan, some of them are lemon ^_^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, that's it for now. R&amp;R, please.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ciao. Fox Kiddo, out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13808692-6137330566709712600?l=guiltygear13.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/6137330566709712600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13808692&amp;postID=6137330566709712600&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/6137330566709712600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/6137330566709712600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/2007/12/works-in-progress-well-to-break-free.html' title=''/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13808692.post-4233121184344578862</id><published>2007-12-14T05:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-14T06:26:30.789-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>MY GENTLEMAN POWERS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Geez!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally! An update!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I've just recently discovered that there exists a device that can activate my gentleman powers. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, there exists such an instrument. It's like an anti-thesis for Kryptonite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, yeah, basically, I found out that Waha~'s glasses brings out my manly side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was really amazed at the moment I put on those spectacles that my voice deepened (M'lady...), my posture suddenly straightened, I've developed non-existent manners and ettiquette and I had a sudden urge to make new year resolutions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It didn't exactly give me superhuman strength (Pfft! Yeah right...) or the ability to see through walls (We have windows for that), but, yeah, ain't that cool? It's a start.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, yes, wish me good fortune as I take another step on becoming the world's manleh-iest, supah-est, full-groomed perfect gentleman. BWahahahaha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm bored. I really need those glasses. -__-'&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13808692-4233121184344578862?l=guiltygear13.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/4233121184344578862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13808692&amp;postID=4233121184344578862&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/4233121184344578862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/4233121184344578862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/2007/12/my-gentleman-powers-geez-finally-update.html' title=''/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13808692.post-4295406647244694302</id><published>2007-12-04T07:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-04T07:51:57.678-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milk'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='malantot'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone wants something really cool this Christmas. Some want shiny new toys, good food, maybe even books. People want to have two-week vacations and parties and just hang out with friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, I have my own shares of shallow materialistic desires. I've already filled five pages just for my wish list and still keep on going. But as I went on with the litany of my wants for the holidays, I find myself thinking whether this is really what I want for Christmas or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure, I'd like to have some new novels by Haruki Murakami, Neil Gaiman or Banana Yamamoto under my nose, a new USB PS-pad for my MUGEN, some new anime on DVD to watch or maybe even just new plushies or action figures to play with. Heck, I'd even like to put the cherry on top and say I want world peace (I know: rip-off). But everything boils down to that one cliche that I never can seem to blow-off as sentimental corny crap: All I want for Christmas is you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, yeah, so hackneyed, been said to many times that it has lost all meaning, or just plain corny, I don't care. Nothing would make me happier this holiday season than to spend it with you. But of course, one doesn't get this kind of gifts without working hard for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, maybe, if I work out the guts for it, I'd be able to tell you how I really feel. I'd be able to tell you who I really am. I'd be able to say who you are to me. If I'm lucky and if you'd let me, I'd be able to give you a feeling I've been brooding on for the past few months. And maybe, just maybe, but hopefully, please let it be true, that this coming Christmas, maybe even underneath some mistletoe, I'd be able to tell you that all i really want for Christmas.... is you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seasons greetings, Milky. I hope you know that I'm talking to you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;^_^&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13808692-4295406647244694302?l=guiltygear13.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/4295406647244694302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13808692&amp;postID=4295406647244694302&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/4295406647244694302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/4295406647244694302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/2007/12/all-i-want-for-christmas-everyone-wants.html' title=''/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13808692.post-4150960588885231213</id><published>2007-11-26T07:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-26T07:37:10.095-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I AM FROM THE FUTURE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is for my friends who are still in high school who are wondering what a serious life in college is like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything here is twenty years in the future. Everyone wears shiny plastic suits that don't breath. There are cars that hover and people here no longer talk to each other. We just read each others thoguhts using our latent-developed psychic powers of telepathy from our overgrown frontal lobes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Movies now come in surround-smell and mutant weiner dogs have taken over politics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, the reason for this is the international dateline. Frickin obese Santa Claus tripped over it. That's why Rudolph's nose is so red.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hahahaha. Behold my futuristic prowess and gentlemanly abilities... of the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;College isn't really all that bad. You'll only always get the feeling like you've performed a lot of effort but it never gets you anywhere (like a threadmill) but that's part of the cycle. It teaches you that life isn't supposed to be fair and it's a universal law that everyone's better than you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh right, I'm supposed to inspire you. Well, the sad truth is that it is the truth. What you can do about it is to teach yourself that you can break free from the sad sad things college can do to you (besides educate you painfully whether you like it or not... more of the not. The future is bright for you and is really seriously what you make out of it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yeah, good luck when you get here. The future is bright for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And is twenty-years away.... Good Luck.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13808692-4150960588885231213?l=guiltygear13.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/4150960588885231213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13808692&amp;postID=4150960588885231213&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/4150960588885231213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/4150960588885231213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/2007/11/i-am-from-future-this-is-for-my-friends.html' title=''/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13808692.post-6199942430327803155</id><published>2007-11-23T17:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-23T18:02:25.640-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='malantot'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>THE PERFECT GENTLEMAN&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately, I've been having the urge to make a change. Something that was sort of like a resolution. I mean, it would be for the better, right? I could turn a new leaf, refresh my image. So, I decided to try to become a full-groomed gentleman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't laugh. All the people I've told about it has done that already. I guess I can't be taken too seriously. Sometimes, it's not that great to have a reputation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what really triggered this impulsive quest, you say? Well, it all began when I had this friendly date with a girl from my old school. We were at the mall and she said that nature called and wanted to "leave a message". So, she made me hold her very girly handbag and stand by the comfort room entrance. A couple of moments later, two girls came out and the following conversation ensued:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*********************************************************************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Disclaimer: The following dialogue has been cropped to fit my purposes)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Girl 1: Hey Girl 2, look at the guy. He's carrying his girl's handbag for her. Such a gentleman.&lt;br /&gt;Girl 2: Yeah Girl 1. It's so rare to see guys like that. It's such a turn-on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*********************************************************************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I figured (using a very fallacious method of hasty generalization which WILL NOT matter to me or you readers &gt;_&lt; ) that this "gentleman" facade has such a positive impact on people, especially the ladies, why not give it a shot and go for broke? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, laugh if you must, but I'm determined to give myself a new image. Of course, I'm not gonna change completely from the goofy klutz of a clown that everyone has come to know and love (well... sort of), but it would be nice to give a little more depth to Fox Kiddo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hehehehe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all, it's better safe than never.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fox Kiddo, out. ^_^&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13808692-6199942430327803155?l=guiltygear13.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/6199942430327803155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13808692&amp;postID=6199942430327803155&amp;isPopup=true' title='363 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/6199942430327803155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/6199942430327803155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/2007/11/perfect-gentleman-lately-ive-been.html' title=''/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>363</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13808692.post-1041970088968592977</id><published>2007-11-10T08:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-10T08:43:29.877-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>DEATH NOTE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, the Prince of Tennis told me Memento Mori. To those who don't speak Latin, Memento Mori more or less translates to "Remember you will die".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That made me wonder. Of all the things to say, why would he tell me this particular aphorism? Why would I want to think about it? Why would he want me to think about it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember you will die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everybody will die, of course, sooner or later. Barney will die, bikini fry-cooks will die, even cockroaches will die, and you and I will die. There might even be a person right now who will die in a few seconds all because of a mistake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Basically, everyone will die, but very few people want to be reminded of that fact. Maybe it's to tell them that you have to be ready for it, a sort of appeal to live your life to the fullest so that you wouldn't feel that much wasted if ever you'd pass away untimely. Maybe it's to tell you that you should review your own life and try to find a straighter path to walk on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever the Prince of Tennis' reasons for telling me this, the thought of being reminded of death makes one think deeply about one's life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If ever I am to die, I would've made sure I'd have lived and appreciated every aspect of my life. I would've died knowing that life was short, but not short enough for me to forget living it happily. Now that I think about it, I would've died knowing that there was someone who reminded me that I will die and I need to prepare for i, someone who reminded me that I cannot just go around, flaunting my life and youth with the plastic air of being immortal or untouchable, someone who reminded&lt;br /&gt;me that I am human.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So thank you, Prince of Tennis. Know that this isn't sarcasm and that the gesture was well recieved and appreciated. Thank you for reminding me that I will die.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13808692-1041970088968592977?l=guiltygear13.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/1041970088968592977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13808692&amp;postID=1041970088968592977&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/1041970088968592977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/1041970088968592977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/2007/11/death-note-recently-prince-of-tennis.html' title=''/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13808692.post-4454007196835417890</id><published>2007-10-24T09:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-24T09:36:32.202-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='education'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>LIBERAL EDUCATION&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow. I'm really amazed at how much freedom the curriculum is offering me. So "liberal", if I may say so. I'm so much in awe at how much my sched has changed, as well. But what really strkes me most is how much sarcasm at plastic I can spew in just one paragraph.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;M-TH&lt;br /&gt;8:30-10:30 Calculus 1(it's pre-set. who cares? i like her)&lt;br /&gt;10:30-12:00 Fil (Mambiar...hopefully, a saner teacher)&lt;br /&gt;1:30-3:00  Com Systems (meh. preset. computers again?)&lt;br /&gt;3:00-5:00 Computing (wiii. mugen time....)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;W&lt;br /&gt;whenever NSTP (hey. i'm so excited... i just can't hide it.... zzzzz)&lt;br /&gt;*Hey, I'm a poet, and I didn't even know it. Oh yeah, pump eht!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T-F&lt;br /&gt;9:00-10:30 English (Yeah!! my BEst event!! Plus it's familiar territory *wink wink*)&lt;br /&gt;1:30-3:00 Arnis (Grrrr.... I hate a Hobson's choice...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7:30-9:00 Arnis (Coach something) (grr... no other PE to choose from)&lt;br /&gt;1:30-3:00 English (Carey... I passed her once (1.5!! yeah!!) I can do it again)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What should I pick? Hmm... I need people to decide for me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, here's to hoping for fun second sem. Fox Kiddo, Out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;^_^&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13808692-4454007196835417890?l=guiltygear13.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/4454007196835417890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13808692&amp;postID=4454007196835417890&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/4454007196835417890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/4454007196835417890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/2007/10/liberal-education-wow.html' title=''/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13808692.post-5074887743880685903</id><published>2007-10-21T20:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-21T21:10:13.825-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>MASTER BAKER&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was baking cookies the other day. Everything was going well. The ingredients were prepared and the mood was right for confectionary treats. But something went wrong when I was mixing the batter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems that the butter has expired. It was the only stick of butter I had and I didn't have the time or money to get another one. I didn't even see this coming because I've become so fond of that brand of butter. I've come to a;ways count on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now my plans of enjoying a batch of cookies went crumbling down. My batter became bitter because the butter was bitter and there was no way I could see to make it better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doesn't it just ruffle your feathers knowing that something you had always counted on suddenly lets you down. It's like you've always expected that something to be there for you and during the time you need them, they're just not there or not what you expect them to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a lesson somewhere there. Heh. But I can't find it. I gotta go find another stick of butter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pump Eht!.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13808692-5074887743880685903?l=guiltygear13.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/5074887743880685903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13808692&amp;postID=5074887743880685903&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/5074887743880685903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/5074887743880685903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/2007/10/master-baker-i-was-baking-cookies-other.html' title=''/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13808692.post-6642040207838920122</id><published>2007-10-19T18:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-19T18:56:41.662-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milk'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='emo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crap'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>RECLUSION PERPETUA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It sucks being alone, even when you know it's supposed to last for only three weeks. It sucks, too, knowing that the people you wanna be with are miles away and the only means of contact are through text and lagging Yahoo Messenger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, not seeing Milky sucks. But Milky not wanting to see me sucks even more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've met someone recently... and I think I've grown attached to her... and I think she might have grown attached to me as well. But, there's always a but. But she's not the same. She's not like Milky. I try to call her that but it's not the same. The harder I try to pretend or want her to be, the truth stands unscathed. She will never be Milky...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That sucks...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It sucks because I want to be with Milky, but Milky doesn't even know I like... Milky. It sucks when Milky thinks I like someone else, because that'll make Milky like me less. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Urgh... I'm sounding like gibberish again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It sucks when I can't get my feelings out right, when people mistake it for something else. It sucks because, even through all the confusion, it makes me want Milky even more. It sucks because no matter how much I try, no matter how much Milky hates me, no matter how much Milky says so, I can't hate Milky at all....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13808692-6642040207838920122?l=guiltygear13.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/6642040207838920122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13808692&amp;postID=6642040207838920122&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/6642040207838920122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/6642040207838920122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/2007/10/reclusion-perpetua-it-sucks-being-alone.html' title=''/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13808692.post-257830071243132064</id><published>2007-10-19T05:25:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-21T09:43:47.862-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crap'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>REALLY LAME PICK-UP LINES&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somebody requested these.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Are you soil? Coz I dig you!&lt;br /&gt;2. Are you sick? Coz you're hot!&lt;br /&gt;3. Are you Jamaican? Coz Jamaican me crazy!&lt;br /&gt;4. Are you a banana? COz I peel you!&lt;br /&gt;   Bonus: I'm a banana. Do you peel me too?&lt;br /&gt;5. Are you a switch? Coz you turn me on!&lt;br /&gt;6. Are you a grenade? Coz you're da BOMB!&lt;br /&gt;7. Are you a Pokemon? Coz I choose you!&lt;br /&gt;8. Are you SM? Coz you got it all!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13808692-257830071243132064?l=guiltygear13.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/257830071243132064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13808692&amp;postID=257830071243132064&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/257830071243132064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/257830071243132064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/2007/10/really-lame-pick-up-lines-somebody.html' title=''/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13808692.post-8443981306903582960</id><published>2007-10-17T07:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-17T08:37:43.408-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milk'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='malantot'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>STAY, MAGIC, PLEASE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought it was already over between us. Over before anything had even started. But what would have been goodbye for a while was a gesture, a feeling that we did not forget, that things are just beginning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the past few weeks, we've been a little distant from each other, passing each other as just friends, hanging out but only saying our hi's and hello's. It was at these times that I feel like I should say something. It was like high school pre-grad all over again. Say something before that person goes or regret not saying anything forever. That sort of thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was at that one time that felt like a last time that I got that feeling. I even had everything planned out. At the ferris wheel or the carousel (technically a merry-go-round because of the carts). Or maybe during the fireworks. Or maybe on the ride home. Just as long as I got to say it. Just as long as I got to say "I love you".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's cliche, I know. I'm a sentimental fool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was fun. I got to spend the day having fun with... you know. Sometimes I get to enjoy the ride more because that person was there. Sometimes I even forget that I am in a ride, that everything just fades away, leaving us together in a moment of smiles and laughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time just stopped when that person was with me. Each time that person went away, I found it hard to catch up with everything else. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I didn't get to tell Milky, though. I was worried I was going to ruin what we had. I never really worked the nerve to say anything. I was just glad that we had moments to flirt, to smile, to connect and to be just there with one another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't stop Milky from being far away from me. Same way, I couldn't force Milky to stay with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you walk away&lt;br /&gt;You don't hear me say&lt;br /&gt;"Please... don't go"&lt;br /&gt;Simple and clean as the way that you're making me feel tonight&lt;br /&gt;It's hard to let you go&lt;br /&gt;                - Utada Hikaru, "Hikari" (Eng. Version)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know you don't know how I feel about you, Milky. Only through these posts can I boldly say how much you mean to me. So, even though you might not hear it or see it, now... or ever. Even when you look and love someone else because I never got to tell you personally or maybe you just don't like me that way, I'll say it here anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13808692-8443981306903582960?l=guiltygear13.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/8443981306903582960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13808692&amp;postID=8443981306903582960&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/8443981306903582960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/8443981306903582960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/2007/10/stay-magic-please-i-thought-it-was.html' title=''/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13808692.post-4417974036043879867</id><published>2007-08-25T19:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-25T20:35:06.814-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>MILKYPALOOZA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I haven't been posting much these past few days. It's for good reason though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently I've been going out with both Milky's. Well, in a manner of speaking, you can consider them as dates. She has been quite a lot more intimate with me this past week and I'm pretty sure it's a side that only I get to see. I've been walking her home at night, baking sweets for her and spent whole days doing nothing with her. Although I want to believe that it's just a friendly encounter, it has been a blast. This is what I call falling in and never falling out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I'm going to do with him now is beginning to be a problem. He has been a little distant, but during the past few days, he's been telling me that he wants to spend a little more time together, a sort of "catching up with each other" kind of thing. But still, there was no "catching up" with what we've been doing. I won't spill much here but let me tell you that he's a sweet guy, someone I will never forget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More milk to come soon. (Yeahp, more mini-milky's) ^_^&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13808692-4417974036043879867?l=guiltygear13.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/4417974036043879867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13808692&amp;postID=4417974036043879867&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/4417974036043879867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/4417974036043879867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/2007/08/milkypalooza-i-know-i-havent-been.html' title=''/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13808692.post-470916667374195199</id><published>2007-08-25T19:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-25T19:53:44.796-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>IN LOCO PARENTIS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is it with parents and the way they want things for their children?&lt;br /&gt;Is it because they found that there are certain things that they can't do and feel that their children will do it for them? Is it because they believe that they have to pass something that's important to them down to their kin? Or is it just because they "love" us children and want what's "best" for us?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would like to believe that they're doing what's right, something that maybe painful now but will bear a great fruit in the future. But right now, I can't scratch the image that everything they do is just something they force something down my throat, coercing me to swallow lest I suffer a worse fate. What makes matters worse is that they don't understand why I regurgitate it back out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't swallow all of this now. At least, not yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope better days are coming...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13808692-470916667374195199?l=guiltygear13.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/470916667374195199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13808692&amp;postID=470916667374195199&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/470916667374195199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/470916667374195199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/2007/08/in-loco-parentis-what-is-it-with.html' title=''/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13808692.post-5964498099969828485</id><published>2007-08-10T05:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-10T23:32:41.919-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ditzyeah'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crap'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>THE GODS MUST BE CRAZY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things have changed a lot since two months ago. Back then, I used to think that she was completely bonkers. She used to be a person who was too forward, too perky to be something just natural. Someone who found it okay to just be friends with everyone no matter what. What a weirdo. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wait, hahaha, I still think that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But truth is, I guess there's also a reason why I read her to easily. Maybe it's the fact that I was... somehow, the same. I guess I recognized that somehow, back then, I was the same. I guess I just got luckier. I was also lonely. I needed friends. Yes, you could say I was really desperate for some social interaction. Good thing, I found some before I completely broke down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what about her?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I became worried when people were discussing her and what she does in class. It was not meant to insult her, (..yeah), never, but still, hearing how some people thought of her was really disheartening. It really made me think about things. It's likely that, if things happened in a different way, I would have been in her shoes and her in mine. If I haven't found my friends, would people be talking about me this way? Like I was something like a liability in a system? Like I was someone you'd only say hi to when you're forced to? Like... like you're just someone you know?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, she's been hanging out with me and my friends. I've been trying to get some of them to really be nice to her, even if it's somehow costing me on my rep (BFF!!!). I don't know if this is a good thing. After all, there's really no major change. But, still, there's something gradually changing as time moves on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if it was a smart choice. All I know is that, for me, it was a right choice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fates pulled a fast one. I didn't see these changes coming. But, come hell or high water, I'm prepared to accept whatever may or may not happen. I'm prepared to accept that I have to do something about it. I'm prepared to accept... her... as a friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, here's to you. May our time together be something we won't drown in alcohol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;^__^&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13808692-5964498099969828485?l=guiltygear13.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/5964498099969828485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13808692&amp;postID=5964498099969828485&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/5964498099969828485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/5964498099969828485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/2007/08/gods-must-be-crazy-things-have-changed.html' title=''/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13808692.post-3412280438602523095</id><published>2007-08-08T22:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-09T02:14:37.839-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milk'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='malantot'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='emo'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>DOWN IT GOES&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love the rain. Always have. One person taught me that whenever I had problems, I should go dancing in the rain. No, it's not because it would make me look crazy. That's already a given. First reason was that it would make me feel like everything just washes away. I become clean again. Second reason was that no one would be able to tell that I was crying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still use the rain for these reason. But recently, I've had some wonderful experiences under its gentle torrents that sometimes I wonder if I can still share my tears in the rain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was during a downpour that he offered me his arm and umbrella. He told me to stay close and never leave his side. Of course, I just had to oblige. I never really noticed that we were getting terribly wet. All I remembered was laughter and soft curses as we splashed our way down the road. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sharing an umbrella seemed almost like a guilty pleasure. We were having fun while hiding under a cover. Or that's probably just me thinking that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was also raining when she got bored. She had nothing else to do. So I offered my company and she accepted. We talked for what seemed like forever and only stopped when drowsiness was kicking on the back of our heads.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though we were never really together, we both felt as if we were just sitting side by side, both on a bed sitting by a window, watching the rain outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now, I'm sharing some more sweet moments with the both of them, together yet far apart. The rain is still with me. Even though I remember the times I used to cry underneath its own tears, I'm now glad to see it because it reminds me of something else, something happier. No longer tears from a forlorn and broken sky but promises of a rainbow on a brighter canvas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13808692-3412280438602523095?l=guiltygear13.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/3412280438602523095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13808692&amp;postID=3412280438602523095&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/3412280438602523095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/3412280438602523095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/2007/08/down-it-goes-i-love-rain.html' title=''/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13808692.post-5984379720527439123</id><published>2007-08-07T04:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-08T22:49:56.749-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milk'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='malantot'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>SILLY NOTHINGS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's cute. Recently our line of communication got a little... jammed. But after we patched it up, she just went crazy, saying random stuff about trading pigtails and open-eyed smiles for choco-chip cookies, burning down kitchens, talking to inanimate objects and sweet moments of senseless euphoria. She even started a bit of flirting by offering me a dance in the rain and said, "You lack a dose of vitamin ME!". She's cute when she loses herself in her world. WEEEEEEEEE!!! She's cute when she asks me to be a part of it. She's cute when she tells me that she wants to do something more than just smile for me. I like her when she's cute. She makes me feel like that there's nothing else I would want than those silly nothings with her. This cute little nothings just leave me hanging, forcing me to say "I love you, too". I just hope there will come a time when I can do the same for her.&lt;br /&gt;Sigh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, his turn. How can I say this without sounding awkward? Hmm... How do I tell you about the time I accidentally closed the door on my finger and he offered to kiss it better? How do I relate the time he forced me to sit beside him while I act clueless but actually skipping inside? How does one properly tell of the times we playfully snatch each other's papers just to annoy and amuse ourselves? How do I tell you of that one brief moment where we got too close, too long and just walk away from it? How do I tell you all these without getting excited but still sound cool? &lt;br /&gt;Hmm...&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could tell you, but I don't know how...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13808692-5984379720527439123?l=guiltygear13.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/5984379720527439123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13808692&amp;postID=5984379720527439123&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/5984379720527439123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/5984379720527439123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/2007/08/silly-nothings-shes-cute.html' title=''/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13808692.post-5448011607750392583</id><published>2007-08-04T00:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-04T00:48:47.999-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milk'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='emo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crap'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>TORN BETWEEN&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walking home the other day was uneventful, but there was something nagging in my chest. I was with both Milky's. In under "normal circumstances", this would've been fun. It should have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what to do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I side with one, I leave out the other. So basically, we just walked. Sometimes in a horizontal line. Sometimes in an irregular triangle, which is what we are. None of us tried to start a conversation or even made eye contact. I guess there was such thick tension that no one bothered to break it, not even me, the one person who "supposedly" has nothing to do with... you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm confused with myself. Every morning I tell myself that I'm going to change, that I'm going to be a better person. But every morning, the first things I see are their messages on the phone, saying good morning along with some snippets of a good dream, a joke or a sweet nothing, sometimes giving hints of a love that may or may not be there. I then slump back to bed. What can I do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There might even be a third Milky...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yaoi-chan, my surrogate mom, tells me to suck it up and choose. Shinra, the twin sister of my surrogate mon, tells me to grow up and move on. I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do I do?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13808692-5448011607750392583?l=guiltygear13.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/5448011607750392583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13808692&amp;postID=5448011607750392583&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/5448011607750392583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/5448011607750392583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/2007/08/torn-between-walking-home-other-day-was.html' title=''/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13808692.post-7702261231489204872</id><published>2007-08-03T05:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-04T00:46:28.832-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='LoL'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='malantot'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>GOT LoL? pt. 2&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, long post. Time to finish what I started. Actually, just give it a beginning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will now continue the introduction of the supercalifragilisticexpialidocius pneumonultramicroscopicsilicavolcanoconiosis ohyeahpumpeht group: the LoL brigade (brand new: heavenly choir music!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The LoL Brigade (heavenly choir music) actually did not just start with the 11 malantots of block IT2. History has planted seeds which will contribute to the birth of the brigade. The science of being malantot or "TOTology" (heavenly choir music) has started as early as the time of Egypt's King ToT. This phiLOLosophy was then perfected by the Greek Stooges: ArisTOTle, SocraTOT and PlaTOT. The brigade's forefathers can even be traced into mythoLOLogy with Sir LanceTOT of the Round Table and the very Pinoy version of Adam and Eve: Malantot and Maganda. There are too many to mention (George WashingTOT, Balon Ranger, Mola Lisa, Orlantot Bloom, etc.)but... you get the point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So without further ado, we are excited (yes, we, as in tayong tatlo) to meet the rest of the OMLFG HIJKLMNOP group: the LoL Brigade!!! (heavenly choir music)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's begin with my personal favorite: Irog! (IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!). The spoiled baby of the group. She likes to tell people they're crazy (Cra Ulo!!) then pretend she isn't. She inhales anything sweet (cookies T_T), enjoys going home and inherited from her mom (wink wink) the amazing ability to talk in onomatopoeia. She enjoys hurting me and is currently practicing to smile with eyes wide open (Shinra, ikaw din. ^_^). Let me present the baby LoL: LoLita!! (ang cuuuuuuuuuute!!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next we have my brother: Mayonnaise!! He enjoys blogging (by that I mean hitting people "BLAG!!"), sharing secrets and making weird names out of people (Donuts, anyone?). He's very sentimental at times, but usually, he's just mental. Here he is, people! Let's all sing his title to the tune of Ricky Martin's Shake Your BonBon: LOL o' BangBang!!! (OH YEAH!PUMP EHT!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Up on the rise is another favorite of mine (You're still #1, Irog): Holey Baloney (pasensya, I like it)!! He has a tendency to think too deeeeeeeeeeeply about things, even rhetorical stuff like the digestive system of manananggals. He likes to "move on", do pointless endurance and flexibility stunts and has a rabid anger for aerobics (&lt;deep voice&gt; Ok, Ladiesh, Left, Right...). He enjoys getting lost in thought, in Cubao and in translation. Shinra has a motherly obsession for taking his pictures (BABY KO YAN!!). Scary smart, deeeep, and pessimistic (daw), Holey Baloney is... (drumroll...) BalonTOT!!! (PUMP EHT SOME MORE!!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course we can't forget Yaoi-chan. The Grace to my Will, Daffy Duck (even though you sound more like Donald Duck) to my Bugs Bunny, Pork to my Beans. The source of all sound effects known (and unknown) to mankind. She likes to pair men with... other men (Origin of YRP) boss people around and imagine she is married to various other men. My partner in the delicate arts of backstabbing (*cough* "diarrhea"), yaoi fantasies (no comment), and just plain random craziness (SIIIIIIIIIIISSSSSSSSAAAAAAAAA!!!!).  Loud, crazy, fun: she's the LOL Brigade's (heavenly choir music) mom and herald: LantoroTOT!!! (nyahahahahaha)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me next? nah... you can tell a lot about me from this blog. All you need to know about me from this blog is that Lantot is in my blood. I fall for anyone's jokes and basically a hopeless sentimental fool. I may know a lot but anyone can pull a trick on me. After all, I am the LOL's Lantuta. (hehehe)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lastly, we can't forget Lolo Grapes. He is the granddaddy of the LOL Brigade (heavenly choir music) after all. He plays the guitar, destroys the Rubik's Cube within seconds and jokes about things you least expect to be funny (Banana? Turon!!). He asks the most profound of questions (why doesn't fire come out of the fire exit?). Who's your daddy? Not Lolo Grapes. He's your granddaddy. Muli-talented and scary smart, but still uber lantot: he is TalentaTOT!! Tata TOTs for short!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there you have it: all eleven Lords of Lantot laughing out loud at all you uLOLs out there. We represent the Love or Lust function of our college's rhythm. Watch out for we prowl the various malls during class hours, devour your ice creams, and perform various (and pointless) stupid stunts, and more... all for our own amusement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are the LOL Brigade (heavenly choir music). We are MALANTOT (and cam whores to boot)!! We are the 11 disfunctional students of our class. We are crazy. We are... taking too much space in this blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Long Live, LOL!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13808692-7702261231489204872?l=guiltygear13.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/7702261231489204872/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13808692&amp;postID=7702261231489204872&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/7702261231489204872'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/7702261231489204872'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/2007/08/got-lol-pt.html' title=''/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13808692.post-8699447375840360239</id><published>2007-08-02T19:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-04T00:46:28.832-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='LoL'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='malantot'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A WORLD WITHOUT A SUPERMAN&lt;br /&gt;Tribute to Clark Kent&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve been digging around my room and found an old stack of DC graphic novels (I refuse to call them comics). You know, the ones about the Justice League, Batman, Wonder Woman and all those superheroes people used to look up to before. I still do. After all, why should heroes die out when the world needs them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve had a recent favorite and I think you might know him. He’s a decent man, a farm boy immersed in a metropolitan world. You might know him as Clark Kent. I know him as Superman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don’t get me wrong. I’m no fan boy (No, that’s the Prince of Tennis). Sure for some he might not be as significant to one to dedicate a blog post to, but he has been more enough of an experience to me to consider him special.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sure he weakens at the touch of unearthly green stone. Sure he’s weak against – certain adversaries (*cough* “diarrhea”). He has a childish outlook, the boy who aged but never grew up. He's mischievous, even, flirting with devilish stares and playful banter when oppurtunity allows. He is a man of refined taste but still manages to enjoy simpler things like packed lunches and shower room jokes. He was there when I needed him, even when he was just there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only some people notice him now. But I think he doesn’t mind. The people who do are the ones that matter anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This world may no longer want heroes or need a Superman. Who cares? I live here as well. Like it or not, my world needs saving. My world needs Superman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Oh yeah, BTW, I wasn’t talking about caped crusader, faster-than-everything, strong-like-mountain, wimp-like-shrimp Superman. This guy's a real farmboy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry, fan boys. ^_^&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13808692-8699447375840360239?l=guiltygear13.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/8699447375840360239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13808692&amp;postID=8699447375840360239&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/8699447375840360239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/8699447375840360239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/2007/08/world-without-superman-tribute-to-clark.html' title=''/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13808692.post-2191267235904636673</id><published>2007-08-02T19:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-02T19:39:06.739-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milk'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='emo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crap'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>GOT MILK? pt. 4&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm confused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I keep on asking myself why i keep on falling in love when that's all i can do about it: fall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm hopeless when I'm emotional. Even more when Milky is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just realized why I'm weak around him, around her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She had a problem. So did he. I tried to help. I tried to make them smile because if they're not happy, I get this heavy feeling in my chest... like something is missing.&lt;br /&gt;I tried to make them happy but all I can do are simple things. I'm helpless, when I can't help them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm weak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm helpless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm in love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm confused...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13808692-2191267235904636673?l=guiltygear13.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/2191267235904636673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13808692&amp;postID=2191267235904636673&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/2191267235904636673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/2191267235904636673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/2007/08/got-milk-pt.html' title=''/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13808692.post-2148105815434874413</id><published>2007-07-27T22:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-29T01:55:37.083-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='emo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crap'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>LETTERS...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For him:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inexcusable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't stand it anymore. I've decided here and now that I hate you. I hate everything about you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate the way you mock me. I hate the way you look at me like you know everything about me. I hate the way you think of me. I hate how you think I'm weak. I hate how you say I'm better than you. I hate it because I'm not. I hate it when you smile at me and give that smile to someone else. I hate it because it's making me jealous. I hate it because I'm in love. And most of all, I hate the fact... that I don't hate you at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inexcusable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For her:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't know what you felt. I didn't know mine. I don't know if it's ignorance. Was I supposed to know? Answer me if you can. Because I also want you to know...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry I can't tell you today. I'm sorry I didn't tell you before. I'm sorry because I know you're not reading this right now. I'm sorry because everything that's happening is hurting me and you don't know anything about it. I'm sorry for pretending to be just like this. I'm sorry I'm smiling at you even when you're with someone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to tell you but I can't. If I do, I won't be able to hide my feelings anymore. I won't be able to playfully shove you at a joke. I won't be able to say "I love you, too" when you tell me I'm crazy. I won't be able to flick water at you when we're by a pool. I won't be able to dance with you in the rain. I won't be able to wait for your smile. I won't be... here anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry. I want to tell you... but for you... I can't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't try to live so wise.&lt;br /&gt;You know you're just a fool.&lt;br /&gt;Don't try to hide your tears.&lt;br /&gt;You know it's alright.&lt;br /&gt;Don't dry your tears with lies.&lt;br /&gt;You know you're going to hate hate yourself in the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't worry.&lt;br /&gt;You know I'm here for you....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13808692-2148105815434874413?l=guiltygear13.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/2148105815434874413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13808692&amp;postID=2148105815434874413&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/2148105815434874413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/2148105815434874413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/2007/07/letters.html' title=''/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13808692.post-8415969444078354965</id><published>2007-07-25T04:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-29T01:55:37.083-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='emo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crap'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>GOT MILK? pt. 3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It would be rude to call her the Other Milky. After all, I fell in love with her first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember the day I first got to walk with her to school. It was nonchalant. We were carefree. We were just friends after all. Actually, just acquaintances. I don't know. What I know was that I remembered that day well because by nightfall, we were already exchanging messages one would expect from close friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wouldn't say that we were very close ever since, but, to tell the truth, there was a bond, a special connection. I didn't want to ruin that by getting closer. So instead of letting it all out in a one hit-or-miss swoop, I just let my feelings trickle out through jests, playful shoves and silly nothings. It all was so nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too bad it can't last forever. I can't last forever. I've got to let it all out sometime soon...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a recent mixed-emotion type of a turn of events, I half-expected her to change. But Milky was still Milky. I still got to do all those sweet nothings with her and her with me. What we had, what he have is special. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But can it last? Maybe we've come this far because she really isn't aware of what she is to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe not. I was one of the choices, after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pressured to tell her I love her. I know that it's still too early for this but competition has appeared and I'm afraid I'm going to lose her. Unless I do something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should I? Should I not?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time passes and the milk gets spoiled. I hope I get to tell her. I love her. I know I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those sweet silly nothings aren't just nothing after all...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13808692-8415969444078354965?l=guiltygear13.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/8415969444078354965/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13808692&amp;postID=8415969444078354965&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/8415969444078354965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/8415969444078354965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/2007/07/got-milk-pt_25.html' title=''/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13808692.post-2999979261535984635</id><published>2007-07-23T06:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-24T05:12:05.076-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A TRIBUTE TO STABILO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tsk Tsk... Stabs, how come you didn't tell me it was your birthday tomorrow?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first impression on Stabilo wasn't really all too desirable. She seemed fun but she had a little high air going on about her that made you feel like "She's friendly but keep your distance." My earlier attempts at making contact were not so good either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I ended up growing to know her from a distance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like how a man observes a new entity. It piques his curiosity but stays away so that he doesn't interfere with it's natural wonders. Hehehe. Like a unicorn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, so I got to know her through a mutual friend, Yaoi-chan. Yaoi-chan shared her experiences of Stabilo with me and got to know the unicorn better. Turns out she only looks stern but she's really such a fun person to be with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stabilo was someone you sing songs with, learn new tricks with, share good times with and all those fun things that end with "with". She has a passion for good music and literature (I can tell). She knows how to hang out with different people. She also knows how to bitch around people. She's street-wise but also sentimental. There are too many things to say about her. But, really, all i wanted to say was that I found her to be cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A unicorn isn't really a unicorn when you don't see it as one. If someone doesn't believe that it is, then it just looks like horse. Stabilo is like that. Only thing is I still haven't got to meet the unicorn up-close. I've only observed from a distance. Oh well, hasta manana.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, happy birthday, Stabilo! Kudos to the girl who taught me that revenge is a dish best served cold (particularly when you serve it to the back), to the girl who cries to show that she's brave, to the friend that I will have, to the unicorn on the distance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Birthday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13808692-2999979261535984635?l=guiltygear13.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/2999979261535984635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13808692&amp;postID=2999979261535984635&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/2999979261535984635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/2999979261535984635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/2007/07/tribute-to-stabilo-tsk-tsk.html' title=''/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13808692.post-3096131143703836892</id><published>2007-07-23T05:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-25T05:09:20.174-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='LoL'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='malantot'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>GOT LoL?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I noticed that lately I've been disemboweling myself (and everyone reading, as well) with lots of emo crap. So here's something cheerful to put some balance in my otherwise delirious blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, so recently, some of my classmates and I seem to be hanging out quite a lot. Sure you can say it’s just like any group one would find in college but I got to tell you, this one’s special. I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I’m part of it. Oh well, agree with me or not, I believe this one’s different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and by the way, it even has a cool name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, submitted for the approval of my beloved audience (Oo, kayong dalawa), I now present to you: the LoL Brigade! (Evil choir music)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The name connotes three things: of course, Laugh out Loud, what I used to think meant ‘lol as in “ulol!” and my personal favorite: Lords of Lantot!! (Evil choir music)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First off, we got the Prince of Tennis: smart, charming, challenged by height and… uhh… hair, claims to be conservative and shy (yeah right, tell that to the gay man behind you), a holy man (*Ubo! Iniluwa ang SARS virus*) and an in-the-closet  -- fan boy. He is also referred by some as Totoy Mola. So now, I give you Prince of Tola!! Ang Patola ng LoL Brigade!! (Evil choir music)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Secondly, we got Clark Kent: evil (or just nasty), mischievous, devilish, blah blah all that jazz yet still a sweet little farm boy. Some also think him as a Totoy Mola so here goes:&lt;br /&gt;Ladies and Gentlemen, Mola Man!! (Yes, it means THAT too)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next is Shinra: soft-spoken yet strong-willed, very motherly, anime fan girl and Yaoi-chan version 2. When she laughs, she Laughs out Loud, living up and exceeding  the LoL Brigade (evil choir music) standard. She’s also an avid fan of you-know-who (Umoo ka na lang).  It’s the LoL Brigade’s (evil choir music) own J-pop princess: LoLipop!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coming up is a lovely pair, Rac and Rol. Rac is scary smart. He enjoys frustrating himself in studies, abdominal crunches and is Yaoi-chan’s best friend (So I heard). Rol is almost the same in the sense that she, too, is scary smart. She’s simple yet aims for bigger things (though I find this contradicting because she’s crushing over someone small. Hehehe. Peace!! Lantot!!). Rol is MAL while Rac is TOT. Wanna know why? Hehehe. Put them together. Now they’re MAL ‘n TOT. (evil choir music) Oh yeah! Pump eht!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course this is just half the crew of the famed LoL Brigade (evil choir music). I’m going to have to post the rest some time later because I have something – “pressing” at the moment (wink wink).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So watch out for the rest of the LoL Brigade (evil choir music). I know you’re holding your breath!! (Oo nga, kayong dalawa nga yon!)&lt;br /&gt; ^_^ Fox Kiddo, out!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13808692-3096131143703836892?l=guiltygear13.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/3096131143703836892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13808692&amp;postID=3096131143703836892&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/3096131143703836892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/3096131143703836892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/2007/07/got-lol-i-noticed-that-lately-ive-been.html' title=''/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13808692.post-7145996351391853133</id><published>2007-07-21T22:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-21T23:41:56.875-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='emo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crap'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>THE MORNING AFTER&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, at least, by the time I woke up (11:45?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waking up in a strange room is generally a sign of previous bad judgment, particularly when you can't find your clothes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, ok, ok, who was I with last night? Can't remember. It all felt like a dream. It all felt so nostalgic. My head feels heavy. Maybe last night, I had a drink. or two. or twelve. Meh... probably best to just forget about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was almost noon, but the room was dark because the curtains were drawn. I wanted to go back to bed and consider this a problem when it comes. I slumped back in the bed and tried to look for anything that looked like it belonged to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My phone. Alright. Finally. There was a message. I read it and it struck me. There was no party last night. There was no drinking. There WAS a someone and that's why my head was heavy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Funny. Last night, I had a dream. When I woke up, it wasn't a dream. Talk about waking up on the wrong side of reality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was her. She was talking to me as if nothing had happened, but how come I feel like something did. I replied as I would to her normally. Damn it, she's good. Maybe the gravity of what happened hasn't hit her yet. Still, I'm rather suprised at how I got involved in all of this. One subliminal step at a time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My head rushed. Three people now and three more in her past. A choice she made between two. One backing off. Darkness. I lied and hid a secret. Her hugging the pillow.What if...? Answer the question. Who was it...?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Waking up in a strange room is generally a sign of previous bad judgment. Someone knocked and called. I recognize that voice. My friend was calling me for lunch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Crap. My life's full of it. I haven't even posted anything about the LOL Brigade yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I scratched my head and looked around the room for my clothes. When the world changes, even your own bedroom becomes a total stranger to you...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13808692-7145996351391853133?l=guiltygear13.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/7145996351391853133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13808692&amp;postID=7145996351391853133&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/7145996351391853133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/7145996351391853133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/2007/07/morning-after-well-at-least-by-time-i.html' title=''/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13808692.post-8844726097502661326</id><published>2007-07-20T01:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-20T23:42:38.896-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milk'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='emo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crap'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>WHAT HAPPENED YESTERNIGHT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I'm stupid. There are a lot of times when I know something's going to happen, I know that still I'm going to end up getting hurt... but still, I end up doing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know "grin and bear it" sucks, because I'm holding out on everybody,including myself. I've learned how to lie so well, I can convince myself that I'm happy just the way I am. I had to change my story so that it would have been easier for them to accept their reality. It's no fun fighting for something... that'll just... hurt me no matter who wins, because I lose both ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Read now, because this is the only time I'm going to let it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've learned to grow up by myself, not needing anyone else. Even to people I'm close with (who can be counted with one hand), I keep a lot of distance from. I'm always alone, even when I'm with people. I'm alone. That way no one can hurt me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've hated falling in love - particularly because I fall in love with the wrong people. And I usually never fall out of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I curse dejavu and its promised endings. I've been disappointed so many times so why don't I learn?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not going to say anything anymore. It's hard to follow up when someone goes ahead of you. The situation could only get worse if people knew I was involved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one's going to know, except for those of you who read AND know what I'm talking about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I only wish both Milky's are happy with what they do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to back off, stay by myself. That way, I'm not involved, I'm not in the way, I'm not getting hurt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That way... I'm alone...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13808692-8844726097502661326?l=guiltygear13.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/8844726097502661326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13808692&amp;postID=8844726097502661326&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/8844726097502661326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/8844726097502661326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/2007/07/what-happened-yesternight-i-know-im.html' title=''/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13808692.post-6409944759291524460</id><published>2007-07-19T04:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-09T02:14:12.176-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ditzyeah'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='malantot'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crap'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A TRIBUTE TO DITZYEAH!...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's just the milk talking...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...but I'm not really all for backstabbing this one person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's this one girl in our class who, shall we say, is special. There might be a lot about her that's seemingly weird or idiosycratic, but maybe that's the way she is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ditzyeah! is the type of person most people would just act nice to, but act different behind her back. They say she's just annoying with the way she would force herself into a conversation, the way she'd hug or wink at you for the most random of reasons or that she's faking all of the above just to get some attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't believe that...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Truth be told, even though I find her a bit... troublesome, she manages to still etch a mark, a smile on to your face whether she was conscious about it or not. I don 't really know her that well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suppose she is doing it for the attention, I personally think there's nothing wrong with that. After all, I'm sort of the same. Maybe she really needs the attention, because maybe she lacks it where it's supposed to come from, so maybe that's why she's working extra hard to get some. Maybe she just really likes the people. Maybe it's a passing phase. Maybe she's trying to find herself and grow up to be a better person. Or maybe I just need to see her in a new light, that she just really wants to share something nice and be my friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hehe. That's a lot of maybes. But then again, maybe not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's just the milk talking...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13808692-6409944759291524460?l=guiltygear13.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/6409944759291524460/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13808692&amp;postID=6409944759291524460&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/6409944759291524460'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/6409944759291524460'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/2007/07/tribute-to-ditzyeah.html' title=''/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13808692.post-5774077161278352437</id><published>2007-07-19T04:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-19T06:45:28.422-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milk'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='malantot'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='emo'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>GOT MILK? pt. 2&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe I still like him. Even after imagining and trying to live some moments where I'd hate him, nothing. I guess it's the real thing. I hate the feeling... yet still I feel like it's the best feeling I've had since... well, ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever since I realized I like him that way, I've just come to an automatic reaction that everything about him is cute. He was cute when he'd just walk up to me and tell me about his day. He's cute when he gets angry at me when I notice him take sneak pictures of me. He's cute when we fight with food. He's cute when he walks away from me then looks back at me from afar. He's cute when he texts or calls me in the middle of the night, saying silly nothings. He's cute, well, just because he is. Heck, I still think he's cute even when he likes somebody else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want what's best for him. I also know that he'll probably won't see me the way I see him. My brain's already convinced that I don't like him, that I've moved on. I'm just waiting for my heart to catch up...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there, until it does, until I've completely moved on, I'll just continue to hope that maybe... he'll never notice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shit....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn it, Milky! Notice it already....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13808692-5774077161278352437?l=guiltygear13.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/5774077161278352437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13808692&amp;postID=5774077161278352437&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/5774077161278352437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/5774077161278352437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/2007/07/got-milk-pt.html' title=''/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13808692.post-2226108761631659653</id><published>2007-07-17T03:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-07T05:13:45.052-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='emo'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crap'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>EMO CRAP&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HEART&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone passes&lt;br /&gt;But no one comes through&lt;br /&gt;The door of flesh and glass&lt;br /&gt;Red yet black and blue&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beauty of the fragile&lt;br /&gt;Mortal divine&lt;br /&gt;The door is opened&lt;br /&gt;To roads intertwined&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the sight is blind&lt;br /&gt;And beauty ignored&lt;br /&gt;Everyone passes&lt;br /&gt;The flesh and glass door&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shadows are cast&lt;br /&gt;Where the light should seep in&lt;br /&gt;Supple and brittle&lt;br /&gt;The red has grown thin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flesh may die&lt;br /&gt;But the glass still lives&lt;br /&gt;Forever alive to pain&lt;br /&gt;Ignorance may give&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone passes&lt;br /&gt;But not a knock on the door&lt;br /&gt;Not even angels&lt;br /&gt;Flap their wings my way anymore&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13808692-2226108761631659653?l=guiltygear13.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/2226108761631659653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13808692&amp;postID=2226108761631659653&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/2226108761631659653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/2226108761631659653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/2007/07/emo-crap-heart-everyone-passes-but-no.html' title=''/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13808692.post-7900114641652305809</id><published>2007-07-16T05:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-07T05:13:24.488-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='malantot'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>SUGAR RUSH&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever had one before? It's never a boring experience - particularly when you have it for three days straight. You get a sudden burst of tension and energy you feel like you can do anything, that you're invincible, you're Superman. Scratch that. SUPAH-man. I had that 3-day sugar rush and it was a blast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hehehe. Guess what I did?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Naturally, I'm an introvert. I'm the type who just reacts. But when IT hit me, WHOA, i just got enough euphoria running through my system to earn a title my friend YaoI-chan aptly called "Lantot Lord" (evil choir music).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found myself instinctively flirting with everyone - Irog (Iiiiiiiiiroooooooog!!!), Shinra, a random person in the movie house, JC, Yaoi-chan herself and, to my dread, Ditzyeah! Heck, I was even flirting with the Prince of Tennis and Clark - to minimum level, of course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I landed myself three dates that weekend, all from random people. And I finally made up (UP, not out, in, down or around, UP) with my bestie. So all in all, it was fun, but still, I laugh at myself whenever I remember those accursed three days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hehehe. Lantot Lord! (evil choir music)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, ever had one before? It's never a boring experience - particularly when you have it for three days straight. You get a sudden burst of tension and energy you feel like you can do anything, that you're invincible, you're Superman. Scratch that. SUPAH-man. I had that 3-day sugar rush and it was a blast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not the best experience but it's not memory I'd want to trade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hail Lantot Lord! (evil choir music)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13808692-7900114641652305809?l=guiltygear13.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/7900114641652305809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13808692&amp;postID=7900114641652305809&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/7900114641652305809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/7900114641652305809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/2007/07/sugar-rush-ever-had-one-before-its.html' title=''/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13808692.post-350006230484598048</id><published>2007-07-14T19:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-25T04:19:24.794-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='milk'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='malantot'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Got Milk?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was part of my paper a few years back. Goes to show how much of a milkaholic I am...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are some things in life that taste good on their own. Shoud taste good on their own. But sometimes, I find myself thinking while enjoying the original flavor... These things could be better. They can't be perfect when you find it generic, when everyone knows how it tastes like, because it would'nt be special.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in comes milk...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Milk has made these things taste better than they should be... for me at least. Cereal. Coffee. Chocolate. Cookies. Ice Cream. Even a kiss tastes better when milk is involved. Everything bitter becomes mild. Something too sweet to be true tastes lighter. What was harder to chew becomes easier to swallow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not talking about milk as milk, you know... Recently, I met a person. Two actually. I call them Milky.Separately. They make things taste better than they really are. Not a single moment is boring with them, whether it's bitter, sweet, hard or just plain cookie. They can't be boring because every time you try to figure each of them out, they do something to catch you off-guard and you just find yourself in retrospect, thinking how special the moment was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love milk because it makes things taste better. Same thing is true with Milky. Both of them. Only separately. So you just gotta love it. I do. Do you? I know I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hehehe. Sigh....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got Milk?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13808692-350006230484598048?l=guiltygear13.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/350006230484598048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13808692&amp;postID=350006230484598048&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/350006230484598048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/350006230484598048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/2007/07/got-milk-this-was-part-of-my-paper-few.html' title=''/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13808692.post-3855012360191772457</id><published>2007-07-14T19:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-04T00:47:02.931-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crap'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>wow, two years, huh? must have been a long time, but i'm sure i wasn't missed that much. after all, only spammers have commented so far and the only people who know of my blog don't even leave comments. so i guess this needs a little rejuvinating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;watch out world. fox kiddo's back&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13808692-3855012360191772457?l=guiltygear13.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/3855012360191772457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13808692&amp;postID=3855012360191772457&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/3855012360191772457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/3855012360191772457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/2007/07/wow-two-years-huh-must-have-been-long.html' title=''/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13808692.post-112907875815821260</id><published>2005-10-11T17:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-04T00:47:02.931-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crap'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;table style="BACKGROUND: #c2cedb; COLOR: black" cellspacing="2" cellpadding="0" width="270" border="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="BACKGROUND: #eeeeee; COLOR: black"&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Global Personality Test Results&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;b&gt;Stability&lt;/b&gt; (56%) moderately high which suggests you are relaxed, calm, secure, and optimistic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Orderliness&lt;/b&gt; (16%) very low which suggests you are overly flexible, improvised, and fun seeking at the expense too often of reliability, work ethic, and long term accomplishment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Extraversion&lt;/b&gt; (60%) moderately high which suggests you are, at times, overly talkative, outgoing, sociable and interacting at the expense of developing your own individual interests and internally based identity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;a href="http://similarminds.com/global5.html"&gt;Take Free Global Personality Test&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://similarminds.com"&gt;personality tests by similarminds.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I'm like this?!?!?!!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13808692-112907875815821260?l=guiltygear13.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/112907875815821260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13808692&amp;postID=112907875815821260&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/112907875815821260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/112907875815821260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/2005/10/global-personality-test.html' title=''/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13808692.post-112907700397271673</id><published>2005-10-11T16:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-04T00:47:02.932-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crap'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>If you've grownn tired of my poorly-written lovesick poems:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;I got so depressed, I tried to cut my neck with an electric razor... again.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sentenced to die on an electric chair, I was asked if I wanted one last cigarette. I declined. I said I was trying to quit.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;In the Phil., a woman gives birth every 5 minutes. I'd like to meet that woman.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;FHM was so fond of my literary stuff, they were giving me 5-years worth of free issues. Yup, free october 'o5 FHM's for five years.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13808692-112907700397271673?l=guiltygear13.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/112907700397271673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13808692&amp;postID=112907700397271673&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/112907700397271673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/112907700397271673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/2005/10/if-youve-grownn-tired-of-my-poorly.html' title=''/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13808692.post-112907461324104037</id><published>2005-10-11T16:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-17T04:22:28.507-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='emo'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Don't be sad&lt;br /&gt;please don't cry for me&lt;br /&gt;because I've already cried too much for you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always see you&lt;br /&gt;in my mind, in my head&lt;br /&gt;there's a picture of the one love I once knew,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my heart&lt;br /&gt;that was once and will always&lt;br /&gt;be true to you&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13808692-112907461324104037?l=guiltygear13.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/112907461324104037/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13808692&amp;postID=112907461324104037&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/112907461324104037'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/112907461324104037'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/2005/10/dont-be-sad-please-dont-cry-for-me.html' title=''/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13808692.post-112907359588281295</id><published>2005-10-11T16:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-17T04:22:28.507-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='emo'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>...Page by Page...&lt;br /&gt;my book fades&lt;br /&gt;no longer white or gray&lt;br /&gt;but darker and sharper shades&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13808692-112907359588281295?l=guiltygear13.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/112907359588281295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13808692&amp;postID=112907359588281295&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/112907359588281295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/112907359588281295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/2005/10/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13808692.post-112907423279773998</id><published>2005-09-15T20:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-17T04:22:28.507-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='emo'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Don't  ask me what I'm thinking&lt;br /&gt;Believe me you don't want to know&lt;br /&gt;I am sick of rhyming&lt;br /&gt;About love that's touch and go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sick of everything&lt;br /&gt;I've thought about this through and through&lt;br /&gt;I'm sick of thinking&lt;br /&gt;of everything about you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate remembering good times&lt;br /&gt;I hate reliving bad times&lt;br /&gt;I hate reading and rereading&lt;br /&gt;the lovesick rhymes I wrote about you&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13808692-112907423279773998?l=guiltygear13.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/112907423279773998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13808692&amp;postID=112907423279773998&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/112907423279773998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/112907423279773998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/2005/09/dont-ask-me-what-im-thinking-believe.html' title=''/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13808692.post-112907398259738438</id><published>2005-09-11T16:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-17T04:22:28.507-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='emo'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>My Memories...&lt;br /&gt;they hurt me&lt;br /&gt;I can't accept it&lt;br /&gt;but I know it's true&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Yesterdays...&lt;br /&gt;they paint on me&lt;br /&gt;bitter, bitter shades&lt;br /&gt;of melancholy blue&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a puppet of my past&lt;br /&gt;I have cut my strings&lt;br /&gt;I am falling fast&lt;br /&gt;I am waiting for the impact&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believed in things that couldn't last&lt;br /&gt;I'm fighting but I fail to stay intact&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13808692-112907398259738438?l=guiltygear13.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/112907398259738438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13808692&amp;postID=112907398259738438&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/112907398259738438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/112907398259738438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/2005/09/my-memories.html' title=''/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13808692.post-112477071385034921</id><published>2005-08-22T20:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-17T04:18:38.033-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='malantot'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>...UHH...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever been to some place you were never meant to be? And yet even if you were in a place, you somehow enjoyed the experience? Well, I'm not so sure myself but let me tell about something anyway.&lt;br /&gt;Monday morning. Not a good time to be awake, for me at least. I came to school, half-asleep. I barely even knew what I wore or ate when I got up. Hopefully, it wasn't cereal with Bailey's... again. So anyway, I went inside the comfort room in front of the chapel. I was thinking (which wasn't straight or even clear) that maybe I could still get some shut-eye in one of the stalls. Then, in as if some form of habit, I pulled my pants and my skivies down and sat on the throne. I even forgot to lock the door, but hey, as long as I could get some sleep, I'm okay with everything... or so I thought.&lt;br /&gt;I woke up some time later. Then, I found the door wide open and there was someone squatting in front of me, tapping my head. To my surprise, it was a girl. What shocked me even more was that she was pointing her camera phone at me.&lt;br /&gt;What are you doing here? I could only ask.&lt;br /&gt;Then she giggled. "You do know that this was the girl's room, right?"&lt;br /&gt;What?!&lt;br /&gt;I immediately stood up and saw that there were, I don't know, four or five other girls behind her, giggling and blushing as well.&lt;br /&gt;Huh?! They were giggling too much for a guy in the girl's room, I thought. Was this the first time they saw one?&lt;br /&gt;Then, it suddenly hit me as I looked down. I was exposed from the waist down. I guess my face burned a real bright red too when I heard someone say, "Look! He's so cute when he blushes," and then, I don't know why, but it took me a long time to react on that. I didn't even rush to pull my pants on or even cover the exposed... uhh... member.&lt;br /&gt;I just knew I did something when one of the girls came into the stall and said through a fit of gigles, "Here, let me help you with that," as she reached for my pants.&lt;br /&gt;At this, I shot my hands down and pulled it up high before she could do something about it. Then, with closed eyes, I tore through the girls and out of the comfort room.&lt;br /&gt;"Come back, okay?" someone yelled after me, which was then followed by a more louder fit of giggles.&lt;br /&gt;Well... that was fun. Maybe next time, I'll be awake everytime I go somewhere. At least, it's already over. That's what matters to me most.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;********&lt;br /&gt;Girl1: You did get a picture of it, right?&lt;br /&gt;Girl2: Of course, my phone's memory's already full of it.&lt;br /&gt;Girl3:He's so cute. Send some of those to me.&lt;br /&gt;Girl2: I know he is. But check this other picture out...&lt;br /&gt;Girl1:Oh my... Shame on you&lt;br /&gt;Girl3: &lt;giggles&gt;You shouldn't put that one on the Internet, you know.&lt;br /&gt;Girl2: I know, I know. But gosh, I never seen anything like it.&lt;br /&gt;Girl1: How did get to that size?&lt;br /&gt;Girl3:&lt;giggles&gt; He was probably blushing there too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13808692-112477071385034921?l=guiltygear13.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/112477071385034921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13808692&amp;postID=112477071385034921&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/112477071385034921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/112477071385034921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/2005/08/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13808692.post-112477171246077502</id><published>2005-08-12T21:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-04T00:48:09.146-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='crap'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Silly Nothings&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Why won't yellow stabilo work on yellow pad?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Instead of cleaning things up, why does liquid paper just make a mess on yellow pad.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;On a Coke machine, press Coke 3 times, Sprite 4 times, Diet Coke 2 times, then Coke 3 times. Put in some money and press Coke. Out comes a Pepsi.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;If 7-11 is open 24 hours, why does its doors have locks?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;How come monosyllabic has five syllables?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Non-christian mean girl to Christian girl: You Christians think you're so Catholic...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sign in a bar: Ladies are advised not to have babies in the bar.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Laundromat: Drop your trousers here for best results.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You'll know it's spring in Manila when the smog gets greener.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Based on my experience, if you're girlfriend tells you that her new clothes are nothing, she usually means it.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13808692-112477171246077502?l=guiltygear13.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/112477171246077502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13808692&amp;postID=112477171246077502&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/112477171246077502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/112477171246077502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/2005/08/silly-nothings-why-wont-yellow-stabilo.html' title=''/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13808692.post-111925357920798852</id><published>2005-06-20T15:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-16T05:45:37.902-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;WOOHOO!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt;Important seminar at St. Michael's. We'll be back on Sunday. There's a lot of food &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;in the fridge &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;you can reheat. You can come if you like. Be good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:arial;" &gt;Mom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So what else is new?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always come home and I find nothing I can look forward to. My dad would come home from work around 1 in the morning. My mom would say hi and resume writing, reading or whatever it was she was doing. My older brothers would either be at work or sleeping already. My pet/sister would be staring at something shiny. Not so warm a welcome one would expect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's okay, though. I'm used to it. We've been like this for so long, three or four years, I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's boring being in the same routine all the time. It's like I have no life outside school or home. And it's not like I can always go the mall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since my parents became catechists, I've always been dragged from one seminar to another. I've always hated this trips. I mean, they don't even spend time with me so why bother bringing me with them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm lonely. I'm always cooped up in my bedroom. I can count my friends with one hand. I swear one day I'm gonna...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Knock, knock.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Urgh! These maids don't understand the concept of privacy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hey, Yua! We've come to save you!" joked Rio as he pulled me by the arm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;At least, let me dress up first.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next thing I knew was we were seated in a pizza place: me, Rio and some of our other friends. Everything happened so fast. We've gone mall-hopping (yes, mall-hopping), played at the arcades, shopped till our wallets were so empty you'd think they had ulcer. We had a blast!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, as I was saying, what would these people do without me? They're a mess. And who better to pull them together than me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What would these people do without me? ^_^ &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left; font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13808692-111925357920798852?l=guiltygear13.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/feeds/111925357920798852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13808692&amp;postID=111925357920798852&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/111925357920798852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13808692/posts/default/111925357920798852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://guiltygear13.blogspot.com/2005/06/woohoo-important-seminar-at-st.html' title=''/><author><name>fox kiddo</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18209749196478912109</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
