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

Woodrow Wilson may be my nom de plume, but the name on my birthcertificate is Harry S. Truman. Though I might be a President, I know I can never be as big of a Presidential personality as Woodrow Wilson. So, that is why I am depressed. Having such a role model; knowing that I could never live up to him, is... just... sigh.

Anyway, I tried dieting for a while, and they all thought I was sick, so they forced chutney down my throat. It was kind of depressing because it ruined my diet. Just goes to show, incredibly handsome people like myself don't need diets.

P.S. She was reading Ishq Illahi and it said that men have a natural tendency to think about women a lot if they lack spirituality and love for Allah (SWT). Conclusion: she still thinks I'm a womanizing pompous jerk. Um hello, people. I'm the truest ashiq around. LOVEEEEEEE.

My owner's friends think rabbits are incapable of much thought. My owner thinks otherwise. "Take a look at my rabbit for example," she says, "he philosophizes everyday except for Friday." "Why not Friday?" they ask, just to humor her. "Because that's when he devotes his time to Allah (SWT)," she replies. They laugh.

My owner is worried about me turning out to be a womanizing pompous jerk. What an idea. What an ide-a. I think she takes her dreams a little too seriously, seeing how I would never go to a mall (with her), swallow a TV remote (by accident! PFFT), and refuse to get medical attention because the cashier is a hot chick, age 18. I mean, ASTAGFIRULLAH. Not only was she too old for me, but I do not abandon all the laws of propriety to chase after some random girl! :@

There is a remarkable picture called Contemplation. It shows a forest in winter and on a roadway through the forest, in absolute solitude, stands a peasent in a torn kaftan and bark shoes. He stands, as it were, lost in thought. Yet he is not thinking: he is "contemplating." If anyone touched him, he would start and look bewildered. It's true he would come to himself immediately; but if he were asked what he had been thinking about, he would remember nothing. Yet probably he has hidden within himself, the impression which dominated him during the period of contemplation. Those impressions are dear to him and he probably hoards them imperceptibly, and even unconsciously. How and why, of course, he does not know. He may suddenly, after hoarding impressions for many years, abandon everything and go off to Jerusalem on a pilgrimage. Or he may suddenly set fire to his native village. Or he may do both. ~ The Brothers Karamazov Fyodor Dostoyevksy

Today I was talking Eddie (not my owner, my ex-crush) and she told me to go stuff a sock in it. I was pretty depressed. Especially 'cause I have bronchitis. People shouldn't be mean to people with bronchitis, especially if they're rabbits. "Are you stupid?" I asked her. "Are you a loser?" she retored. To which I replied, "Yes, please."

The truth is, that I do not have a basketball pump.

I told Eddie (not my ex-crush, my owner) about the incident and she suggested I stop talking to non-mehrams. What a hypocrite 'cause I caught her having a similar conversation with a similar person (in her otherwise similar life).

I really shouldn't spread rumors about her though. Hmmm.

Hey did you hear she's getting married on the fourteenth of July? Well if so, that's just a rumor. So yeah. And yeah. Or yeah. Well yeah.

P.S. My owner thinks guys are simple minded and stubborn. I'm certainly both, only not the former.