Failure is a signal to succeed.

Today marks the first day of my college life. I just cannot believe that time flies so fast; I am already in college.

Earlier this morning, I had to prepare my stuff for my dorm-- my clothes, food and all that shizz. My mom was so persistent in reminding me what stuff to bring and stuff. I just get tired of that persistence. I was not really excited for my dorm stay. I would be away from home for five to six days and return every weekend just to meet my family again. But hey, this is college already. Things have to change somehow.

My parents came with me to my dorm to help fix my stuff as well. I was nearly getting late for class, if it weren't for the traffic, and my mom having to label every item I own. It was already 9:20 AM, and it began to rain, so instead of walking to school, I rode with my parents instead. My classes started in ten minutes. I planned on getting my ID first but traffic caught us. The rain poured down harder; it was nearly like a typhoon already. I rushed to my first class when I arrived at 9:29 AM, and made it just in time.

That first class was EN 10. Yes, loathsome EN 10, you know, the English class for uhhh... those who probably did horrible in the ACET. It was basically the diagnostic test for two hours. The class was asked to read a short essay about Filipinos and jeepney riding. It was a rather interesting essay, and I think I did well in the "How Well Did You Read?" part. That part is 20 items, 2.5 points each, so that portion of the test alone is 50 points. Some of the items were tricky, but I answered what I thought were the best answers. I hope I would get a perfect score in that portion of the test; it would increase my chances of being in the regular English class.

Then, like all English tests, there's an essay. The question was something like "You represent the Philippines as the delegate to the Internation Youth Commission. Write an article about the culture" something something-- it was like that. I really had a hard time in the essay. How am I supposed to write properly about something I don't really care about. I even find it hard to bola in the essay. Well, I hope I did things right, with the Thesis Statement=3 part theme and such. That essay is also 50 points, making the diagnostic test 100 points. I will get to know the results on Wednesday. If I fail, the English department deserves some ass-kicking. (like I'll do it anyways; I will just be taking EN 12 LIT 14 in Summer instead, which I have to admit is pretty satanic, ruining my summer vacation).

I hear the passing score of the diagnostic test is 60% I believe. I wonder what happens to me, since I think I did crap in the essay. Pass or fail, it is a call for me to strive and do my best.

After the horrendous diagnostic test, I claimed my ID. I also got a free lanyard (duh) and a student handbook when I claimed it. I gotta say this is the third ID picture I love. Why? I'm in my high school uniform sporting long hair. (or long in the high school haircut standards)

I do plan on wearing the high school uniform in all my ID pictures. I loved my high school (except first year) so much.

Anyway, after claiming my ID, I met up with a friend/high school classmate who just came from his OH SO LOVELY EN 11/LIT 13 class. He told me stuff about EN 11/LIT 13, such as "HOLY MOLY LOTS OF BOOKS IN ONE SEMESTER." He even forgot his schedule, so we went to the library, used its computers, and he checked his school account for his schedule, and copied it. I like how we have the same break times. I even tried to make my own campus WiFi account, but the system did not seem to like my student number.

We walked around for a while, and met a few former classmates. I began to sweat like a pig, and it was really annoying. The weather is really weird, such that it kept on raining and it was still warm.

My friend already had to go to his class, and then I went to mine. It was PS 1 or Introductory Physics. I met up with another classmate, and he told me to find out who the teacher was in room 114. Just as I suspected, it was my high school Physics teacher, whom I met last Wednesday during soem course-related event. Turns out she isn't my teacher, but someone who's currently undergoing the 10 day self-quarantine because he arrived from Italy. Another Physics prof (who was also in the high school last year) went to our class and said that we get a free cut because of his absence. I was still sweating, so I made use of the free cut to buy a new shirt and cool myself in the library. In the library, I met another former high school classmate.

I stayed in the library for an hour or so, surfing the web. Too bad Facebook wouldn't load properly there. Also, I attempted to make my campus WiFi account there. The system still did not love my student number. Oh well, I went to the covered courts for my PE class.

I thought the first friend/high school classmate I met and myself would be in different court numbers, despite the same schedule. Turns out we were classmates in PE class. For a PE class, a college one seems pretty strict. 1x1 pictures and wearing white shoes. Good thing I have white shoes, bad thing I do not have 1x1 pictures. I will have my 1x1's taken tomorrow.

Then the dude and I went to the high school campus just to get the former's brother's stuff from his classroom. Of course he asked the janitors. We rode the tricycle to McDonald's.

Since my dorm is near McDonald's, I just walked there. I was so sweaty, and I wiped myself and I thought I needed a rest. I couldn't yet as the electrician was fixing the outlets. Later on, I realized my toothpaste was not packed so I went to a convenience store just to buy toothpaste and a huge bottle of water for me to store in the dorm fridge (since I wasn't told to bring a pitcher with me).

I got to know a few of my dorm mates a little. They seem to be nice folk. I was pretty surprised that most of us in the dorm have laptops, including myself.

Oh well, I just had instant noodles for dinner, and I wish I had a can opener.

Anyway, I look forward to college again. It seems great so far.

tl;dr college is awesome if it weren't for EN 10

Someone thinks it's because I'm anti-social, but it's not that. My twitter tweets are not really about the social part, it's more of academics, really. I think college might suck for me because of only one thing.

EN 10

EN 10 is the Basic English class. I find this an insult at me because Basic English is about tuning up grammar skills and whatnot. It seems to be college's Special English Class. I know I do not deserve stuff like Basic English, and since I was placed there, it may seem that I am called to try my best some more to get to the English class which I deserve more. The Diagnostic Test which might be held on the first day of classes is the gateway for me. If I succeed, then I can go to the Regular English class and then maybe I can consider college life awesome. If I fail, I will have three ID's in my first year of college.

Vocabulary seems to be my Waterloo, since I probably flunked that part in the ACET which brought me to EN 10. I guess it is time I should read more then, and bring a dictionary.

I wonder if there is a way where I can just ask the English Department to just move me to EN 11/LIT 13. I really don't want to go through High School lessons all over again. I want more challenge.

Diagnostic Test, here I come. Lord, please give me the strength, courage and determination to pass the test so I may be able to go to the Regular English class.

Goal this summer: Lose 12 lbs. throughout the whole May
Current weight: 185 lbs.
What I want to weigh: 173 lbs.

So far, I'm taking up boxing, playing badminton with friends and family, and of course, DDR'ing. I should do this more often just so I could weigh 173 lbs. by the time college starts. I really hope I would lose all that fat. I don't want to be known as "the one with the big ass" anymore. You can all suck my dick if you still think so.

Looks like everyday exercise for me. Yay!

Yeah, at around the end of October (yay 3-week sem break), Tekken 6 gets released for the PS3/ X360. I wish I could play it at the arcades.

It's that every time I want to play Tekken 6, there are people fucking hogging the machines. Even though there are at least five Tekken 6 machines in Glorietta 4, IT'S STILL HARD TO PLAY. (by myself at least). And at the times I play, people want to fucking battle me, and my chances of reaching Azazel would always be zero percent. Farthest I reached was JIN. SHIT I WAS NEARLY THERE BY ONE STAGE, and I forgot why I couldn't reach Azazel. It was either some guy beat my awesome Hwoarang or that I had to go home.

Seriously, I just hate it when guys just insert credit while I'm on my quest to beat Azazel, or that NANCY robot thingy. I'm not really the type of player who would want to challenge opponents with their really cool IC (or IR) cards featuring really cheap Zafina/Dragunov/Lili/Miguel players. If you go to Glorietta 4, and not look at the guy playing a Hwoarang/Lee/Kazuya against a CPU opponent, and then when you insert credit to fight me, and the guy swears loud, then that Hwoarang/Lee/Kazuya player is most likely me.

I learned my lesson not to play Tekken 6 in the arcades anymore. I had to resort to playing Tekken 5: Dark Resurrection while the Tekken 6's were all occupied and full of Zafina/Dragunov/Lili/Miguel players (or in short, all the fucking new characters that haven't been featured in the PS2 Tekken 5). They can do awesome combos too. I hate fighting opponents like that.

I STILL ENJOYING SPAMMING RIGHT KICK WITH HWOARANG, ETC. THOUGH. I'M MORE OF A SPAMMER PLAYER THAN A HARDCORE PLAYER.

Also, I play Tekken for the storylines. I'm such a nerd.

October, here I come.

Originally, we were supposed to interview Fr. Joey Cruz, SJ, the dean of the social sciences (I think) of the Loyola Schools. He was my dad's moderator when he was still in High School in Ateneo. Scheduling the interview is a pain. It could've been Tuesday 1:30, then Thursday 3:30, then I received a call from Fr. Joey's secretary that Fr. Joey wasn't the right man for the job. My dad thought he wrote books. :P The secretary said he wrote one book.

Oh well.

I hope whoever is in charge would be able to find the right man for the job. After the interview, I'll have three people to thank: the future interviewee, whoever he/ she may be, Fr. Cruz's secretary, and then Fr. Cruz himself.

I'll keep praying to God that one day I'd be able to get this interview over with before the 29th. Those people who I'd want to thank, and my partner who seems to be failing in English will always be in my prayers. I hope I'm doing this right. I (and my partner) have to graduate.

This is probably my first actual blog entry without swear words since like... ever.

I passed the ACET, yes, but the thing is this. My first choice is Economics, however, I really want Interdisciplinary Studies (aka IS). My family has been telling me that I stick with Economics instead. I really do not want to take up Economics. It is just not my destiny, really. I really don't know what I want to be after college so I want IS.

IS is probably the "anything goes" course for people who do not know what to become after college. People have been saying negative stuff about the course. I do not see anything bad with it. I am pretty lazy for Economics, actually. IS has been destined for me. All the time while the ACET results were still in process, I have been dreaming of studying in the Ateneo and having IS as my course, despite the Filipino-language shit I would be having to face. I really want IS, but others don't. My destiny lies in IS (aka what destiny?)

So I'd like to know what seems to be bad about IS so I won't have to make a change of course letter. :P

Filipino adaptation of Twilight aka Takip-silim

Imagine this...

komprontasyon sa may gubat

Belya Swan: Imposible ang 'yong kabilisan at lakas. Ang 'yong balat ay maputi't maputla at yelo'ng lamig. Nag-iiba kulay ng mata mo at minsan kung magsalita ka para kang galing ng ibang panahon. Hindi ka man lang kumakain. Di ka lumalabas pag maaraw. Ilang taon ka na?

Edwardo Kolen: Disisyete.

Belya Swan: Gaano katagal ka ng disisyete?

Edwardo: Matagal na.

Belya: Alam ko kung ano ka..

Edwardo: Sabihin mo.. ng malakas. Sabihin mo.

Belya: Bampira.

Edwardo: Takot ka ba?

Belya: Hindi.

Edwardo: Edi itanong mo sakin ang pinakabasikong tanong. Anong kinakain namin?

Belya: Hindi mo ko sasaktan.

Edwardo: Nabibighani ba kita?

-=-=-=-
pagdating ni James

James: Nagdala ka ng chichirya!

-=-=-=-

Belya na nagmumunimuni

Belya: May tatlong bagay na posible: una, bampira si Edwardo; ikalawa, may parte ng kanyang sarili na uhaw sa aking dugo; ikatlo, ako'y inlab na sa kanya.


"At ang leon ay nainlab sa tupa."

It was just a rumor, I should say. I apologize to everyone who believed me, who believed the source I looked at.

This should probably be more trustworthy.
http://www.pinoyexchange.com/forums/showpost.php?p=32449231&postcount=11

Yes, it's next week. Some guy actually called Ateneo and they said that the results would be posted on Jan. 10. Well, call Ateneo yourselves and confirm.

I apologize to everyone who wasted their gas going to Ateneo just to see the ACET results, but turns out that there is none.

If the first word in the letter is "Congratulations", you're most likely safe.
If the first word in the letter is "Peace", you're toast.

My QPI in the first term was 2.83. I just made a deal with my dad that if my QPI is higher than 2.83 when I get my report card tomorrow, I'll get a credit card. It's a half-serious deal, actually, since my dad doesn't trust me when it comes to money. I made this deal because my sister got her credt card at age 14, and I'm 17 now and I don't have one yet.

At least this is somewhat of a valid deal. I have mixed emotions as to what my QPI will become. If it even becomes higher, I'm just lucky. I'm pretty sure it's going to get lower because of OH GOD MATH.

Math appears to be my most terrible subject in the 2nd term, next to Filipino. I always get low in the quizzes and shit. My scores in the long test usually come close to the passing score. My exam score was a fucking 49 out of 70. The highest I would probably get in Math is a C. If I get a C+, I'll conclude God loves me.

Oh well, I can't wait for my report card and laugh at my QPI and my CAT grade (which will probably get lower because I wasn't really taking it seriously.)

...but I couldn't.

Here's to a worthless blog post. :D

DISCLAIMER: This isn't in my point of view. It is a composition for English class in which we have to use a character from The Kite Runner's perspective. I think you would guess who I used, if you read the book.

   It has been seven years since that Hazara hurt my right eye. I could never be able to open it again. Now, I am planning my revenge. When I would find that Hazara boy and that traitor, I swear that they shall never live again. They do not deserve to be alive any longer, not just in Afghanistan, but in the world as well. They should cease to exist.
    Somehow, I remembered something… the face of that man who was with Amir seven years ago at the Ghazi stadium. I must find him somehow so I can gain information about them. The thing is, I do not know where he is, nor where he lives. I might be able to bump into him one day. At least I remembered how he looks like. I never forget a face, ever.
    The forces and I have to go to Ghazi stadium for another execution at half-time. This time, it is a man who just would not leave his house already because we plan to set up another headquarters at the place where he lives. He just would not give it up, according to one of my fellow comrades. So, in order for him just to shut up already, we agreed on having to execute him. We picked him up from one of our existing headquarters, where he was imprisoned, and then we tied him up, taped his put him at the back of the truck, then we move to Ghazi stadium for the execution to begin.
    I saw that man’s face with only the left side of my eye. He looked really familiar. Oh yes, it was that man… that man who was with Amir seven years ago alright. I might as well save my torturing for later at half-time. We are still on the way to Ghazi stadium. I just kept looking at that man, named Farid. He was going to get the torturing and the execution. I cannot wait for the information I should get from him and my plan to kill Amir and that Hazara nephew of his.
    It is already the half-time of the soccer game at Ghazi stadium. My comrades brought out the hostage out of the truck. He is still tied up, and his mouth still sealed by the duct tape. One of the comrades untapped his mouth fast, that he would feel pain on his lips. I then began to ask him questions pertaining to Amir and his Hazara nephew first.
    “I remember you. You were the man from seven years ago, that man who was with Amir, am I right?”
    “Yes, so what does this have to do with Amir anyway? I am not going to give up my house for some stupid headquarters of yours.”
    “Before I ask you stuff about the headquarters, I’ll ask you about Amir first. Where did he go?”
    “I do not know!”, he shouted.
    I asked a comrade to point the AK-47 at his cheek. “Where is he?”, I asked.
    He shouted again. “I do not know!”
    The AK-47 was pointed closer, that it already touched the surface of the cheek? “If you really do not know, then we shall execute you already. Come on. Answer me!”
    “I… I… I do…”
    “FIRE!”
    He was dead. I made a mistake in commanding. I could not be able to find Amir anymore. My revenge has failed, for now. I wonder if there are any more people who had been acquainted with Amir when he was in Afghanistan.
    Suddenly, what appears to be American troops arrived at the Ghazi stadium as well. They started shooting every one of us Talibs. I brought out my gun and shot as much US Troops as I can. I managed to kill at least two, and then I ran and hid below the bleachers.
    While hiding, I began to think where Amir could be. Where could a coward like him go? Oh, I remember now. Seven years, he told me that he was in America. How silly of me to forget. Though America is such a big country, I do not know where I could be able to find him. Maybe I will just keep searching everywhere in America for the rest of my life. I will find Amir and his Hazara nephew then kill them both.

I'm so bored, and I couldn't sleep. So, I'll just post some random facts about me then.

I'm pretty sure no one will read or comment or whatever (like most of my other blog posts). I'll just take out my boredom on the computer.

-I never reveal my real name on the Internet.
-I never show pictures of me on the Internet.
-I only have a few friends. Those who think that he's my friend when I know that they're really not are just kissing my ass.
-I love Krispy Kreme.
-I love Dairy Queen.
-I'm the only one in class who plays Japanese music games. (such games include Dance Dance Revolution, Guitar Freaks, DrumMania and beatmania IIDX)
-I'm more talkative online than IRL.
-I knew about Encyclopedia Dramatica first before my classmates did.
-I came from La Salle.
-I hate La Salle.
-I think "sarge" is what a faggot would address me if he was to refer me as the flight sergeant.
-I think "sourdjgze" is what an awesome dude would address me if he was to refer to me as the flight sergeant.
-I hate being flight sergeant.
-I ruin everyone's dreams of what people want to become of me. That's right. I won't be an NCO. You can kiss my ass.
-I could've had more friends in class if it weren't for a certain classmate. Because of him, he has humiliated me, and my classmates think I am what I was in Grade 7.
-I am not what I was in Grade 7 now. I am cooler.
-I'm the only one in class that types properly in IMs, comments, etc., with correct capitalization and punctuation.
-I have a Google account.
-I'm ugly.
-I don't have a girlfriend.
-I don't intend of having a girlfriend.
-I want to be richer than all of you when I grow up because I'll stay single.
-I'm not gay.
-Speaking of gay, I loathe the Jonas Brothers.
-I hate Twilight.
-I hate emo.
-I have better musical taste than all of you. (excluding the video game music, of course)
-I have an 80GB iPod classic.
-I won't be an hero.
-I'm really a selfish person, but I'm only posing as a nice person everywhere. (j/k)
-I'm average in terms class standing.
-I'm obviously smarter than everyone in 4A.
-I like pie.
-I have an 80GB PS3, which I hardly use due to lack of money for games.
-I frequent at Timezone Glorietta 4.
-I love Harry Potter (the books and the films, dumbass).
-I love B.... some people.
-I meant to say beatmania IIDX.
-I like blue.
-I like pink.
-I like blue more than pink.
-I'm not bisexual.
-I'm straight.
-I enjoy porn like all of you do.
-I don't talk about girls with other people. I just keep it to myself.
-The Undertaker is my favorite WWE Superstar.
-I own an Undertaker Plush Bear.
-I'm childish at heart. (Hence why I think girls still have cooties)
-I (no. My family) plans to migrate to Canada in like 5 or so years.
-After migrating to Canada, I'll migrate to Japan.
-I'm a weaboo.
-I can read only katakana and hiragana.
-I'm better in Photoshop than almost all of you.
-I'm really cocky.
-I'm an English spokener.
-I hate the vernacular language, and I wish I didn't speak it to others, because I have a hard time with it.
-I live far away from my school.
-I miss the 4 classmates who have departed from the world of etch. Those 4 were so nice to me.
-Only 4 were nice. I'm pretty much aware that 5 departed, and one of them was reported to have backstabbed me.
-I don't give a shit about when I'm being backstabbed. The thing is, I don't get to hear it anyway.
-I hate it when people tell me that I was backstabbed.
-I brag often.
-I backstab often. (Yeah, we're even.)
-I always bring a bottle of rubbing alcohol with me.
-These days, I'm lazy to study.
-I rule.
-My wrestling name is "The Toothbreak Kid, Sgt. Boogey", which is kinda gay but I like it.
-Everything that classmate comes up with for something to refer to me has a degree of pissing me off.
-I write short reflections.
-I know posts like these would bore the viewers.
-I bore people, and I don't care.
-I have a love-hate relationship with CAT... at least until my teeth broke because of it.
-I hate CAT.
-I have a draem.
-I have a deram.
-I have a Facebook account.
-I'm the only one in class who has a LiveJournal.
-I'm not the stereotypical "Twilight-loving, lulz causing, Paramore-obsessed" dude in class. I'm different from all of you, and have better tastes than all of you. (j/k-- the last part in particular)
-I don't care what you will say.
-I don't care what you will do.
-I don't care what you will want.
-I don't care what you will be.
-I can't make this list long.
-I ran out of facts and shit.
-I know no one will comment.

Facebook has more class.
Multiply is multi-purpose.
Livejournal is t3h pwn in blog posts

Those are all the social networking sites I have accounts to, though the third one is more of a blog thingy. Feel free to add me to any of them. If I know you, you'll always be in my contacts list. If I don't know you, I might have second thoughts... but oh well.

When knowing that I would be making a balloon-powered car, I decided to look for some examples in the Internet. I found a lot in a website, showing examples of how balloon-powered cars would look like. I based the concepts of my car from those images shown in the website. What inspired me to have such a design for my balloon powered car was that there was this one which used an empty box of biscuits. I tried looking for an empty box like that at home so I could use it for my balloon-powered car, but I could not find any. Instead, I might as well do it the hard and delicious way.

I bought a box of 6 pastel, a delicacy sold in Mindanao. It is bread with filling of any flavor. Last time I ate those was at early 2006. Good thing I still wanted them, and then I used its box as a base for my balloon powered car.

Just after finishing the pastel, I began work on my balloon-powered car. I got barbecue sticks and four old compact discs. I perforated four holes so that the barbecue sticks can pass through the chassis. The placement of the wheels was the hardest part of making the balloon-powered car. With cloth used as washers, there was no way the compact discs would remain stable. So, I had bottle caps placed as washers instead so that the wheels can remain intact. Then, the only problem is the balloon.

I tried different sizes of straws. The small ones would not go more than five meters. I used a small straw on my first trial. The result was horrible. On the second trial, I used a larger straw so that more air would come out, and that the car would be sure to go faster. Speed is not even a factor of this project; it is distance. Luckily, after my car’s fast acceleration in the second trial, it was able to go past five meters… not just five, but six. I got six meters and thirty centimeters as the result. The important thing here is that my balloon-powered car works, and that it can go past the five meter mark. I would like to thank God for guiding me in this activity. I thought I would fail again with a larger straw. I thought I would totally flunk this experiment. When the car moved one meter and thirty centimeters ahead of the passing mark, I thought that it was “God’s push.” It must be a miracle to me.

Anyway, through the hardships I have faced in this activity, I thought this balloon-powered car experiment made me a more industrious person. With a complicated project like this, it takes time and effort to produce a car that can be able to move more than five meters. It already includes the toy that has to be on the car. Cars are really complicated to make, especially those made out of old materials that are often not used anymore. Creativity is also a factor, as one must carefully design his car in order for it to move properly. It is important that time, effort, and creativity are applied to projects one cannot seem to accomplish. Maybe not just the projects, but to life as well.

Wow, that was fucking long.

Ok... pretty weird title. I'm supposed to be doing my Math homework now, but what the heck.

Originally, I was supposed to bring "Twilight", but it's still with my brother's friend, so, might as well bring the one that comes after it.

When I brought my brother's copy of "New Moon" to school for the useless Reading period held every October due to Communication Arts Month, a classmate [or two] was [or were] pretty surprised. They thought I read the Twilight series. I just told them that I only brought it for Reading period and nothing else, just so it would look like I'm reading, and that the teacher (here's to hoping she does not read this. j/k) does not sanction me when I even try to pretend reading or something. Anyway, the classmate said that Twilight readers are classified into four groups, based from his observations:

1. emo (which I guessed, and I was right)
2. yung mga silang iba
3. those who have girlfriends who want the guy to read it
4. those who want to join conversations with women

I gotta agree with him. I also observed that a lot of Twilight readers fall under category #1, and they have Y!M statuses about wanting to be a vampire or something, or shit about some dude named Jacob Black. That's kinda gay. I also observed another set of people that do not fall among the four categories, yet they still read the Twilight series. That would be....

5. Those who listen to a lot of Jonas Brothers and watched Camp Rock a lot of times (including fantasizing about doing the Assef to Joe Jonas or Demi whatshername shit I don't care about)

My classmate kinda agreed on #5.

On Reading period, I read the first few pages of "New Moon." FUCK BELLA IS THIS EMO, SHE WANT BE VAMPIER SO MUCH HUH. SHE LOEV EDWARD SO MUCH HUH

I couldn't handle it any longer. It's too emo. I wish there was a Harry Potter 8 or something (where there is peace, and special guest character Assef would do the Assef to Bill and Fleur's daughter or something)

I'd totally read the Twilight series if Assef is in it or something. :P

It appears ABSOLUTELY NO ONE in class knows the actual reason why I'm Flight Sergeant. A lot just start calling me "Sarge", and think that I have authority over all of the cadets in the flight.

Well, guess what. Flight Sergeants don't really have any authority. They're just bitches of the Flight Leader, I mean... yeah, the guy in charge of financial stuff and shit. Basically, the Flight Sergeant is the flight's secretary.

Also, the real reason why I became Flight Sergeant is that the tallest dude in each class has to become that. My fucktarded classmates really don't understand the bullshit. I'm pretty sure they weren't paying attention to a single word Agitant Y said about Flight Sergeants. Yet, they start calling me "Sarge" and pretend they're afaid of me, that I'd make them drop and do 50. That's the NCO's bullshit, not the Flight Sergeant's.

I am really annoyed of being called "Sarge." I'm just an ordinary cadet, like all of you motherfuckers. Flight Sergeants are just ordinary cadets; they are not to be confused with those in the Special Flights (especially NCO's). I bet a lot of you are confused as to why the Flight Leader gave me the authority to give push-ups to noisy cadets. You probably think it's because I'm Flight Sergeant. You're totally wrong, faggots.

Next one to call me "Sarge" is a faggot. I might even give a reflection on how I'm pissed at the dude that started this "Sarge" bullshit. (I know who he is, it's the maggot that made my grade school life miserable, and he's out to do the same to my high school life)

I am totally annoyed. Stop calling me "Sarge", motherfuckers.

Since last Tuesday, I haven't been feeling well. On the succeeding days, my condition gets worse and worse, especially on the ACET day. When I woke up on the 13th, I felt that I had high fever. I still insisted on taking the exam. (I was too sick to remember where the 2000 Olympics was.)

Today, my condition is really bad. I don't just have fever. I have colds, cough, and a really really bad sore throat. I could've been absent from school today, if it weren't for the class picture taking. My throat really hurt so bad; I couldn't talk, I couldn't laugh, I couldn't shout. I was forced to eat less, and drink too much C2 lemon. How the hell did I get sick?

So, tomorrow, I won't go to school. I need a rest. Besides, it's only 3 easy subjects tomorrow. The thing is, I wouldn't be tutoring the public school kids tomorrow. I can't teach with a sore throat.

I'll also be absent on Friday. I can't run, march, or shout "SIR YES SIR!!!!!!!" with fever and sore throat. If I ever get well by Friday... nah, I'll still be absent.

I might be present on Thursday. I still have some unfinished business.

I hope I'll get well soon.

What does it mean to be an hero in the 21st century? Explain with concrete and specific details in at least one paragraph.

Uhhhh....

Uhmmm....

Uhhhhh....

Let me think....

Uhhhhhhh.....

Ummmmmmm.....

Uhhhhh..........

What the hell should I write?

What it means to be an hero in the 21st century is about suicide for overly stupid reasons, and exemplary lulz. It can involve losing an iPod, or even taking too much steriods and beating up one's own wife and kids. As long as it involves suicide, there's an hero.

Being an hero is easy.
1. lose the iPod
2. kill yourself
3. ????
4. PROFIT!