The reader accepts, on reading of this disclaimer, that the Internet is a vast wasteland of crap that spews out of human minds. This blog is no different. Any assumptions or conclusions that the reader draws from this blog are not the responsibility of the author, along with any physical or psychological harm that might result from the reading of this blog.
Author
The author is a paranoid, deranged and cynical misanthrope who records snippets of her life so that she will remember them when she grows old
and withered. The identities of any names or initials on this blog are based on the assumptions of the reader unless otherwise specified, and the author claims no responsibility for them.
Reality
The author somehow got into medical school. Yes, you of the general public, shudder and fear the wrath of an inept doctor.
Since I'm waiting for the video I'm sending to Melesa to finish transferring, I shall blog here.
Sorry if I sound somewhat irritated... The DVD player's not working, and now Pavarotti's screaming into my ear (headphones) because my brother'd turned the volume up just now. My fault actually, since I'd not the sense to turn it down.
Yanne, IQ tests don't mean a thing... I doubt I'll need to put the whole conversation we had up here.
And I have no idea why people think I've some complicated relationship with Ng... Even Felicia thinks so too. And well, debates is part of English Society, but I'd prefer it if it were regarded separately, though I strongly suspect debates is going to close, since our Teacher-in-charge is leaving, and both coaches have left.
Just something to add: Do go read 'Heart of Darkness' by Joseph Conrad, since you all are so insane over the Watoto (Wah! Toto! Ignore me...) orphan choir.