Jumuah Mubarak!

Well I know you all have been wondering where I've been.

I just wanted to tell you we're all on the same boat.

Well, I was thinking about Abraham Lincoln today. Even though I've memorized the location of every single wrinkle and laugh line on his face, I cannot help but think.

I don't know him at all.

Isn't it tragic? Though the location of every single wrinkle and laugh line on his face is familiar to me, it is very strange at the same time!

It's like I'm seeing him in a whole new light.

Who is the person behind the wrinkles and the laugh lines? And why does he have such a look of solemnity? Do I know? Will I ever know? Here I was, boasting to Bob about how I know every single detail of Abraham Lincoln's life, when suddenly a picture of him at his wife's dinner party on the 31rst of August popped into my head and boy did he look unfamiliar.

I feel weird. Do we ever know people. Really and truly? I doubt it. I don't even know myself anymore.

I was talking to my coworker about Romeo and Juliet today. My coworker turns out to be a hopeless romantic, because that's the ONLY type of person who'd like such a crappy, materialistic, profane, and blatantly anorexic story. "Woodii," says she, "Give me three good reasons why you don't like it." Well, where could I begin? I don't need to explain my opinions to silly little girls. Geez.

A/N: I'm not saying Shakespeare is stupid just because Leo Tolstoy said it.
A/N II: And I don't don't respect hopeless romantics just because my owner's bio teacher hates them. =)

Mob pscychology and Woodrow Wilson? NEVER.

Edit: "Define love, then, Woods. Since you're so smart," she says.

Define love? You're asking a 3 year old rabbit to define love. I haven't even seen Yugoslavia, yet. What the hell are you smoking on. That's the thing with Western culture these days. Their minds are preoccupied with the L-word. AND IT'S NOT EVEN IN A GOOD WAY. You should stop and worry about the quantity of pineapples you consumed today (instead of thinking about the guy/girl you're so hopelessly infatuated with, whom you don't even know at all). Did you consume any at all, you unhealthy freaks.

Today's Cookies and Cream Day, in commemoration of me, the cookies and cream bunny. In order to celebrate this most atypical occasion, my owner and her cronies (Roxy and Poxy? wtf.) decided to make cookies and cream fudge.

It was too sweet.

Owner ordered cans of marshmallow creme (because normal marshmallows are so haram... even for bunnies? wtf.), and 20 bags of Nestle White Chocolate Chips (which incidently contains whey... wtf.), not to mention the Costco-sized boxes of Oreos, to cook their black and white ... thing. Sound good enough? Wait till you hear this:

VEGETABLE SHORTENING.

That's what they used! To make MY fudge. Do they not know that there is nothing more I abhor than vegetable shortening? Do they not know that I religiously hide the boxes of vegetable shortening hoping they don't use it? Who threw the vegetable shortening to the dogs last week? THAT'S RIGHT. So wtf would you use vegetable shortening to celebrate ME for? Are they too cheap to use real butter. Honestly, I like the real deal. I CAN believe it's not butter. Please don't go cheap on me.

Sounds bad enough, right. Wait till you hear this:

THREE CUPS OF SUGAR.

That's right, THREE. I'm already leaning towards diabeties. Do they really posess such a desire to murder me? I've had enough of this place. I'm running away.

P.S. They were smiling and grinning prouldy as they presented it to me. Why wouldn't you want to kill someone for doing THAT? I took a little bite. Such an act was self-laceration. I told them that. Their grins promptly increased. I socked them in the face. "Aww, how cute," said my owner (who insists on being called Roxy... wtf.). That was it. "F-you." I said. She wasn't even shocked at my vulgar language.

P.P.S. The F in this entry stands for "fudge." Dirty minds... wtf.

"IT WOULD BE RATHER EXCITING," she said, wrapping a lock of hair around her finger, "to be a pillow."

"Yes," I agreed. "Then, you could have polka-dots... bright, day-glo green and yellow polkadots... and no one would stare at you."

She stared at me for a while. "Yes," she yawned. "To be a pillow... would be bliss."

Okay, so someone told me to update about my life. Well, yesterday I was talking to Bob (the spider, not my uncle) and he's suddenly like, "Life is a bowl of pork chops, son." And I'm like, "What? Where did that come from?" but before he could answer, he died.

I think the passing of Bob (the uncle, not the spider) is going to be very hard to accept. I might cry soon, who knows.

The other day, we were watching this documentary of 'Nam. I had a lengthy discussion with Sam (the cousin, not the hobbit) about it. She agreed with everything her sister had to say, and politely refuted everything I said.

Man. It just makes me want to cry.

My owner says that as soon as guys start being obsessed with hairstyles, they transform into silly little girls. She also doesn't refrain from adding that guys who are obsessed with chicks (hot chicks), are girly as well. So I'm wondering, who are we supposed to be obsessed with? and I ask her. So she goes, "Um. Shutup." ha!

My owner's such a man of principles it's not even funny. The other day I accused her of liking this guy in her French class. She got so offended. And I'm like, um you said yourself that he was cute. And she's like, "I meant personality-wise! HE'S NICE, OK. Astagfirullah, are you implying that I stare at non-mehrams all DAY? Cause I DON'T." So I asked her how long DID she spend staring at non-mehrams and now she's refusing to talk to me.

Whatever, iA.

HELLO! I have a party at my house tonight. Though parties are loadsa fun, they're quite hard to throw. Ah well.

WONDERFUL THINGS HAPPENED TODAY.
I went to the mall to buy a jacket, a fur coat, and some braces.

They asked, "Wow, you're happy today." Si.

kkkkk i have to go take de zhower. <3