Saturday, May 24, 2003
Bless me father, for I have sinned.
My last confession was five years ago. And my sins are as follows:
I’ve been having dirty thoughts about the guy I saw on TV.
From Mondays through Fridays I see him in a silly soap opera about a poor girl who studies in a supposedly exclusive school for the rich and the useless.
Now, father, this guy, he’s not an ordinary guy (Well if he was, will I feel this way?). If his character was real, his father will probably land the top spot in Forbes’ Richest Man in Asia list. He’s an arrogant, pompous, spoiled brat. He’s got a very short temper and a very violent nature. He doesn’t care a whit about world peace or that children are dying of hunger in Africa. He’s possessive. He’s clueless. He can’t get his idioms correctly, but he speaks four languages. He dances funny. And he’s always horny.
In short, he’s everything I want in a man.
Everyday, I want to literally enter the world of television so I can rip his clothes off and eff him silly. I mean it. I have this dream of taking him against his will. He would try to escape, of course. But I’ll prevail. And in the end he’ll surrender.
Then, that’s where more dirty thoughts come in. I can picture us making love, standing up, with all our clothes on, in a mall. And if I imagine hard enough, I can almost taste him.
These, and all the sins that I have forgotten, I ask for God’s forgiveness. May He also give me the strength to finally be free from this insanity.
Amen.
***
The best thing about having a bestfriend is that they’re not scared to tell you the truth.
Mine just told me that I should get a life.
I couldn’t agree more.
***
Okay bestfriend, I’ll try not to think about Dao Ming Si for a while. I’ll try to forget the fact that I’m in love with him. And I’ll try to remember he’s only a character. And that the real man is Jerry Yan.
I’ll try not to faint every time Yan sways his hips on TV.
I’ll try not to stay connected in the net for three hours, everyday, just to download
F4’s mp3s, videos, and pictures.
I’ll stop watching the local music channel, Myx (tolerating Heart Evangelista’s vanity), for hours in the hopes of catching their 3-minute videos played.
I’ll stop hating my ex-classmate who just described them as mongoloids, the prejudiced son of a bitch. Of course they’re mongoloids, that’s their race for crying out loud! If all mongoloids looked that good, then I’d want my son to be one.
And if I do all these, and I’ve been a good girl, can you look for Meteor Garden DVDs with English subtitles while you’re there?
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