My brother and his common-law wife threw a party at Jollibee for my nephew. They hired three mascots to entertain the kids... all of whom were stupid enough to think that a child of Pyro's age (diminutive compared to them in their Jollibee, Hetty and Popo suits) would LOVE to have them gang up on him at the same time.
Of course my bloody nephew howled with fear. And his cousin some 6 months older also wailed miserably.
Other than that, Pyro did like looking at them from afar... cooing his adorable "Hooo.." as he watched them mascots dance around and have pictures taken with the other kids (one of my nephews decided to avenge Pyro and kept trying to take Jollibee's head off... the same one who tried pushing Gremlin off the stairs at his own party last Feb).
Anyway, the lolo and two lolas were beaming with pride and happiness throughout. And the cathedral windows (fancy gelatin for the uninitiated) I made was such a hit. Pyro's Nemo cake was deliciously icing-filled, everybody hated it except yours truly.
Pictures to follow... once our MIS people allows me to install winzip again, and my digicam program.
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I want oysters. I crave them. I long for their unique, melt-in-your-mouth taste. But alas, Sunday found me eating Franks and Cheese pizza at Pizza Hut.
So Monday night found me wide awake and restless in bed, wondering how I can get my hands on some oysters. I comforted myself with instant noodles instead.
Tuesday found me begging equally-financially-challenged friends to treat me to oysters. Of course, no luck.
Wednesday morning finds me morose. My Friday prospect of feasting at Oysterboy is still very much tentative, which really saddens me as i've already gotten my best bud to promise and treat me to a plateful of fresh oysters, all my own.
Worse, the date tonight wants to try this Jap place (not that I don't love tuna sashimi) and watch I, Robot.
Yes, I feel like bleeding tears. How can people around me be soo insensitive to what makes me happy? I'd be pouting if it wouldn't make more miserable than I already am...
Sigh... still no oyster feast.
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It's mean but i've been seriously having fun at someone else's expense. This person had the gall to have a homepage riddled with really bad English.
I know I'm not exactly perfectly fluent. But I feel my typos and usual subject-verb agreement mistakes can be forgiven. As it is, I know am not trying hard (and stupidly) to write and speak the language.
And I don't think am being an intellectual snob when I cringe at really bad English. Like what a friend said, if you can't speak it, don't. And then there's the difference between a person not having exemplary command of the language (remember defending a thesis? or just reporting in class? or aiding a foreigner to the right street?) and people just really being pretentious and wanting to sound smart and coño.
Worse, don't leave links to your site everywhere, only to have people laughing at how you've murdered the language and offended Shakespeare.
Honestly, if you guys know how insufferably lacking in integrity this person is, and if you get to read the homepage am talking about... you'd be having nightmares too.
He was carted off to attend Mass... ate lots of pizza. His lola prepared a lot of food, and so he had spaghetti for dinner. He wore a spiderman jersey. His poo smelled terrible. He knocked his head on a chair. He slipped. His parents had a hard time assembling his first birthday gift, which was a car. He almost caught his fingers at the toy car's compartments. His dad used the ribbon from the gift wrap as seatbelt. He merrily honked his way around the sala. We had choco caramel cake. He was filled with glee while we surrounded him to sing him his birthday song.
