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You CANNOT read this blog post without reading the one that went before it.
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June 3, 2001. Sunday. 3:20 p.m.
[Listening to cheap CD rip-off of movie hit song parade while having toes mangled by hugely bored pesky brother.]
MWAHAHAHA!!! I. Am. Genius. Have pinched Mummy’s flashlight batteries to run brand-new, portable, French-made, CD-cum-MP3-cum-CDR player with 50 second Electronic Anti Shock System. Would be much happier though if right earplug wouldn’t pop out every time little sister breathes and if big brother would stop lobbying little tinfoil balls in general direction of little sister as makes her breathe much more rapidly (snort, more like).
June 3, 2001. Sunday. 5:06 p.m.
[Sprawling on bunk whilst contemplating if boredom is sufficient reason for suicide.]
Am now abandoned to own devices as rest of family currently ensconced in individual pursuits: Dad unconscious and vociferously adding to general noise levels via stopped epiglottis whilst Mum and Elaine squabble over game of cards and Kuya reads Dune: House Harkonnen for umpteenth time in manner of Rodin’s The Thinker with hemorrhoids. Looks quite picturesque really, except is biased view as is one’s own family and next most interesting scene is silver fish flying out of water.
June 3, 2001. Sunday. 7:14 p.m.
[On bunk, what else s’new?]
How utterly annoying. Have just put on contacts, washed face and slicked hair all in effort to impress old primary school chum whom haven’t seen in years but has all been for naught as never once raised hand to say hi. Is reason why ridiculous to seek affirmation outside of self since so few willing to comply. Much better to resort to self-flattery since much less effort involved and quality of praise definitely assured. In any case, at least have changed—J—– ——- remains same big-headed snob as was in grade school. Humph.
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