My weblog owns 43.75 % of me.
Does your weblog own you?
Does your weblog own you?
Had some really nice comments about my blog. Some even asked why wasn't I blogging the past few days. Gee. I'm feeling warm all over. It's so fulfilling to know that people actually read my stuff and find them interesting. The writer part of me (long-time high school ambition) is wetting its (her?) pants in excitement. And wanting to blog even more. I reckon I'm officially a carrier of hardcorus blogomanius. Taking the above test proved my suspicion right. This bug is invisible, internetborne and dangerously lethal. I strongly advise those who're faint-hearted, humour-deficient and allergic to panda-eyes and horrifying zits from late nights up blogging to stay away from this and other similar sites. Go fry your brains at TGV or Nicklelodeon.
post script: Happy birthday James. For a creative pressie, I thought of tying a red ribbon around my neck and jump out from a box to surprise you with a peck on the cheek. Discovered some interesting facts in the process:
(1) Electrical/furniture shops don't give out boxes for free.
(2) Red ribbon around the neck makes one itch like mad.
(3) I have a fat arse. I can't fit into even a refrigerator's box.
... So now you know why you don't have a pressie yet. I'll just buy you a jigsaw puzzle or something soon.
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