Happy Halloween!

It's officially Halloween here. Whoop dee doo!
Kamikaze's dressing up as a BAT.


And I'm going to dress up as a CAT!
Again.
But, it's better than my co-worker's costume. Today I asked her what she's dressing up as and she said, "I wear all black clo-thez."
I raised my eyebrows and told her I don't think that's a costume.
She smiled at me, pretending to understand what I was saying.

For Manly Men!

Dynamic Sparkling Hub Ceramics present The new Wildness Man Collection of Manly Men Mugs. For men who like a strong cuppa tea with their Manly Men Friends.

We are happy men!
We love nature;
We live together;
We love freedom;
There is no polity, no war, no money;

Sounds good to you, right Manly Man? But wait! There's more!

We are happy men!
We love ourselves; We love nature;
We live together; We love freedom;
We are mightiness; We are bravery;
The only thing we want is to go along with themen we love and binge together, live up together.

Still not sold, Manly Man? Don't worry! We've got one more for you, you Hulking He-Man!

We are happy men!
We love ourselves; We love nature;
We live together; We enjoy music;
We love freedom; We enjoy music;
There is no polity, no war, no money;
The only thing we want is to go along with the men we love and binge together, live up together.

That's right there, Buckeye. We really enjoy our music. And we enjoy our men. And bingeing with our men, loving ourselves as we live together freely in nature with no polity, war, or money. Come dance with us and drink your tea, you Big Luscious Manly Man, you!


Oh, and don't forget, every Manly Wildness Man's got to have a dog!

dOG IS GOOdbOY. It IS GOd fIRend WIth POPlein my heat fOR eveR.

The new Wildness Man Collection of Manly Men Mugs, for Manly Men and their Goodboy Dogs. Available at Dynamic Sparkling Hub Shops everywhere!

Suckoween

So, we're having another Halloween Party at my school on Wednesday. I can't say for sure, but I think it's going to SUCK ASS and the kids are going to, at some point, head out into the street to collect garbage they'll bring back inside to hurl at us. Maybe not. Maybe it'll be fun.

I guess the number one reason it's going to suck is that I'm not in charge of it. Things I'm in charge of do not suck. They ROCK! But then Jane gets a hold of the plan and everything starts to slide into Suckville. Like last year.

We've done a Halloween party every year since I've been here, and it's always been left to me to plan most of the activities. The kids have had fun every year, pretty much. As a matter of fact, things in general used to run like clockwork at school. Speech Contests were the first Friday of every month. Market Days were on Fridays, every three months. But Jane marches to the beat of her own drum, or rather, the beat of the drum the voices in her head bang out. So everything's topsy turvy. As it is, we haven't had a Market Day in six months. It kept getting pushed back for no real reason, until it was finally decided that it would be combined with the Halloween Party. I said I thought that idea SUCKS, but no one cares what I think.

Market Days are BUSY! Kids are running around buying stuff and eating things and making a mess. The teachers are always so busy on Market Days, and maybe even MORE busy on Halloween, so I don't know how we're going to manage by combining the two. Perhaps we can split ourselves in half for double the manpower.

So today I asked Jane just what we're planning to DO for the Halloween portion of the day. She replied that the kids will wear costumes.

Ayup.

What?!? No games? No candy?

"You think we should have?" she asked me.
"Naw, man! It'll be okay. The kids can wear their costumes while they shop for the same crap we offer every Market Day. And then their costumes can keep their clothes unbloodied while they butcher us for having no games, candy, or fun. That's cool."

Should be interesting.
I'm actually bummed, though, because I'd really like for the kids to have a great time, and I can't see that happening. Oh, and Jane made invitations that were handed out to students today, encouraging them to bring all their friends to the (Non) Party. One kid asked if he can bring his younger brother and parents. "Sure!" Jane said. Great! More people to come see how much we suck.

In case you're wondering what Jane looks like, here's her picture.


Well, at least that's what one of the kindergarten students thinks she looks like. It's actually not that far off at all!

Very Scary

This is heinous, and it's not salad dressing.


I haven't been feeling well lately. (And no, that's not puke pictured, either.)
All last week I had headaches and my muscles and lungs hurt and I have a persistent cough. And the fatigue,...lawdy, I'm bagged. I'm kind of worried I'm going to overdose on pills, trying to get some sleep. On the weekend, it's okay to be woken up every couple hours with a coughing fit and an urge to pee the bed. I can just nap around the clock. However, I've got to drag my bum to work tomorrow (well, later today really) and I hate teaching on no sleep when I'm already feeling crappy.

So awhile ago I googled "home cough remedies," and read some suggestions. I decided to just add together any ingredient I had that was mentioned. Can't hurt, eh? So up in that bottle is a mixture of a little rum, lemon juice, honey, apple vinegar, Tabasco sauce, cayenne pepper (well, gochugaru really) and some smashed up ginger and onion.
Blech.
I just took four tablespoons of the stuff, (can't hurt, eh?) and it's a blow-your-face-off-extravaganza of spicy-sweet-sourness.
Let's hope it helps.

WCB - 125 Happy Halloween

It's a early, but it's time for a Halloween round-up. Kamikaze's all ready.

BOO!

Now fly on over to CatSynthdotCom to see all the other spooky ghouls kitties!

Oh,...and here's Kamikaze looking all scary, ready to bite your leg off.

Blowout Clearance

It's a lonely business, this life.
My life.
And then there's Maude. Lin.

Believe me, I'm well aware of the myriad of choices one has day to day and moment to moment and by and large one has to take responsibility for the choices that lead them up to where they are right here. Right now. So, I'm down with that. I own all this.

Most days, it's not bad. Many days I choose to carry on and deal with what's right in front of my face. The work. The sleeping. The eating. The washing, laundry, cleaning, dressing, shopping, writing, reading, walking, going, coming, seeing, watching, greeting. The breathing. The living. And just when you get one done, there's another requiring attention. It doesn't end.

Until it ends.
But that's not what I'm talking about.

Some days, like today, it feels like my head is going to pop right off my shoulders. It not just a figurative deal. I rocked a headache so hard and pervasive today it felt like a Very Big Thing with a Very Big Hand had grabbed ahold of the back of my neck. The pressure spread up through the back of my cranium and up around so it felt like my eyes were bulging. All my muscles hurt. I had to keep reminding myself to keep my teeth off each other. They kept clenching, which worked into a frothy vicious circle with the headache thing.

But it's not just today. Lately I've been battling this tendency of apatheticism like I've never known. And yes, I know apatheticism isn't even a word, but I don't even care enough to find a real word.

Some days it feels like everything is futile. I get dressed. I go through the motions, and for what? To what end? It's no wonder my fantastic future isn't manifesting itself because there's no design for an outcome. I've never had any specific vision as to what I'll become. Friends of mine are settled by now, with families and careers, and I remain rootless - and for all intense purposes, lost.

It's true that no matter where you run, you can't escape yourself.

The relationships I've had over the last three years have all been fleeting and have ended badly, and I fear it might be just to demonstrate that at the core of me I'm unable to attract anything good. At low tide I do feel as though I might be broken and beyond repair.

Some days I want to have a closing-out sale. All pretense of caring must go. Matters of the heart are marked for clearance. We're going out of business, my heart and I - except for the beating. We're building a fortress around my heart. Shop while there's still time.

Itchy

Today I skipped merrily to work like I do every day. Tra la la! My "outside dogs" Buddy - The Good Boy and Circle Gay fell in step around the usual spot and followed me to school. When we three arrived, I stepped inside and grabbed some sausages I had in the fridge for them. Circle Gay gobbled his up loudly, and Buddy, being the more elegant of the two, stepped on the wiener with one paw and took dainty little bites. I noticed that there was a black rock about the size of my thumb nail on the ground between the two of them. I didn't think much of it. So the boys finished up their snack and I told them bye-bye and I went to prepare for the day.

Somehow the rock moved into the lobby, which I discovered when I returned from the washroom down the hall and stepped on it.
It wasn't a rock!
It was a ROCK! LOBSTER!

No, it wasn't. But it exploded, the rock did, when I stepped on it - and it was filled with BLOOD! Thick dark red blood.

It was a tick.


I've never seen one before, but figured that's what it had to have been - and sure enough, a quick google confirmed it. Gross.
I don't know which dog it came off of either, but I spent the day being soooooooo itchy and wanting to puke.
POP! Gush!
Shudder.

The Ghost of a Horse Gone By

Sometimes I just absorb things without much thought. Such is the case with the phrase "to beat a dead horse." I understood what it meant - afterall, beating something that's dead is pointless; it's an exercise in futility. It didn't even occur to me until tonight that the point of beating the horse is to make it GO. I guess I just figured that the person beating the horse just liked to beat it, and maybe they hadn't even noticed that the horse had died. Perhaps someone had even approached the person beating said dead horse and said, "Hey. What's up, man? Why you beating that horse? It's dead, already."

I mean, there are other things that you can do that are rather pointless. Complaining about the rain. Watching "America's Next Top Model." Trying to get someone to understand you, when they don't speak your language, by speaking it louder and louder until you're screaming. ("Scream all you want, buddy,...the loudness isn't going to make me suddenly get what you're saying. Let's draw pictures!") But none of these things really demonstrates a futile desire to have something carry on that isn't able to do so.

And I was thinking about these ideas in regard to some of the relationships I've had in my life. Wishing that we could get back to where we once were just isn't going to happen. The horse, it has died,...and no amount of will is going to make it get up and carry on.

Car Crash Guy turned up at my apartment this past weekend. I sort of figured he was going to show up at some point or other, since he called me at work a couple weeks ago out of the blue. I hadn't spoken to him since June, and wasn't really interested to, either. So he turned up in the middle of the night. I gave him the glass of water he asked for, and he asked how I was doing. I yanked up the leg of my jeans to show him how bruised I am. Still. (I'm wondering if I might be bruised forever, and I've still got no feeling there, over four months later.) He went over to pet the cat, who was lying on my bed, and Kamikaze puffed up like a blowfish and hissed at him. Good kitty.

"What do you want?" I asked.
"Let's talk about it."
"Talk about what?"

His wife kicked him out of the house.
Ah.

See, I didn't know he was married until we met at the hospital a couple days after the wreck. See, at that point he didn't have a choice about telling me. I suppose he could have chosen to not tell me about his two little baby girls that morning, but I guess he figured that since he was finally forced to be honest with me, he might as well tell me the whole story. Before the crash, I had known him as a decent single guy. Afterwards I just knew him as an asshole. But I figured our invisible "horse" was in the backseat of the car, and it definitely did not survive the crash. And he's still as asshole, because decent guys don't turn up at your door at two in the morning months later.

"Let's talk about it," he repeated.
"Let's not," I suggested, and I extended my arm out to the door, not unlike the showcase models on The Price is Right do.
"Where should I go?" he asked.
"I don't know." Again, there's the door.
"Jelly,....."
The door. There it is. Do you see it? I'll point it out. Again. Right over there. And he finally headed toward it and put his shoes on.
"Take care of yourself," I said. And I meant it, too. And the door shut with him on the other side of it.

Thinking

I'm thinking that I don't have anything to say today or yesterday.
I'm thinking that, despite the above fact, I might try NaNoWriMo next month. I have a tendency to not finish things, though, so I'd rather not join if it's just going to stress me out.
Hmmmm. Thinking, thinking. If I were to write a novel next month, I'm thinking about what I'd want to write about.
Do you have any thoughts?

WCB - 124 Blankets

I went out last week and got myself a new blanket. It's sooooo comfy. I have four blankets on my bed already, two comforters and two fuzzy flannel ones. During the summer, though, I folded up the comforters into the corner of my bed and Kamikaze claimed them for his own. I felt guilty taking them back, as he looks so content sleeping on them. Every night he starts out sleeping next to my head. I sling my arm out under his tail, which he flicks back and forth. It feels like, for a change, he's petting me! Sometime after I all asleep, he makes his way to his "bed on my bed" and spreads out. When I finally wake up, he toddles over to sit up against me for his morning brush while I wipe the sleep out of my eyes. We've got a routine.

Anyhow, I bought a new comforter and spread it out on the bed on Tuesday. Before I could try it out, Kamikaze claimed it for his own.


I showed this picture to Jane, my manager, she wanted to see the blanket I'd bought, and she complained "You can't even see your cat's face!"
"I know," I said, "He's sleeping and he's facing the wall!"

Over the past couple nights it's gotten quite cool! (YEE-HAH!) We went down to single digits last night - 8 degrees Celsius. I love it. And I love snuggling under my new super comfortable blanket. So does Kamikaze apparently. Here he is right now.

Can you see him? He worked his way under the blanket.

Can you spot his little paw?


My bed is fabulously comfortable. Lavender scented "sheets." (They're Korean style - a mattress cover and a "pad.") Five blankets. The flannel ones are draped at the bottom of the bed for me to rub my feet into. Do you rub your feet together while you're falling asleep? Kamikaze swishes is tail around. I think it's the same thing as my foot rubbing. Three pillows. Enough to snuggle my head into and hug. Two of them are scented with lavender and herb sachets inside. Fantastic.

Again, my life is thrilling. To think that my bed is something that pleases me the most....

But, sleeping with my big furry baby makes it that much more appealing. The last couple nights he's snuggled in under the covers and slinks is way over to my leg, where he flops down, his arm curling over me (and claws digging into me) and he bites me lightly a few times before he falls asleep with his head smushed into me.
It's good.

For more goodness, head over to the *NEW* Tuxedo Gang Hideout and check out all the WCB posts! Thanks for hosting tux-cats, and thanks for reading the rest of you.

Wafflicious

On Friday, I told the HomePlus freezer section to "Shut the HELL up!" There, nestled right beside the tortillas were these babies:

They're expensive, over five bucks a box, but they're pretty deelish. Except when you burn the hell out of them, which I did yesterday. There's really no saving toaster waffles once they've been charred. Really, I think I'd prefer EGGOS, but these are alright, though I doubt I'll splurge on them again.

If you're in Korea, your local HomePlus probably has a bunch of little kiosks somewhere outside the checkouts to the grocery store. There, you might find waffles, which are made nice and hot and the lady will slather on some whipped cream and (I think) apple jelly and then fold it in half for you to eat.
I never eat them like that.
But I have asked for them plain - and it's better if they're cool and have been sitting in that "waffle rack" for awhile. You can take them home and pull them apart into two halves (they're quite large) and pop them into the toaster for breakfast. Turns out they're cheaper than the imported freezer ones I was so excited to see, as they're a dollar each, and one of then makes a morning meal. The two waffles I burned yesterday cost about $1.70.
I don't know why I enjoy waffles so much, but really dislike pancakes.
My life is thrilling.

Crying

The other day one of my students brought a tiny little kitten to class. It had been given to her by another of my students who found it on the street and wanted to keep it, but decided not to because the kitten "cried all night" when she took it home.
"Yah," I said, "It's a baby, eh? All babies cry."

And it looked as if the baby cat had been crying. I told her maybe the little thing had an eye infection. Maybe she should take it to the doctor. She said, "Hmmmmm,...no."
Okay, then.

Maybe the kitten was crying because its new owner was wearing a T-Shirt of LIES!

The kitten was not white, nor was it wearing a ribbon of any sort.

Every time the kitten wasn't snuggled in the girl's arms, it was yowling. When it was placed upon the table it would stumble across and crawl onto a boy named Michael.

Maybe the kitten prefers purple shirts. Purple shirts that aren't filled with LIES!

Today I gave the girl a little toy mouse on a pink string for the kitten. Karen and Jane freaked out at the sight of the mouse. They're rodent-phobic. The girl left after my class finished at six, but returned for a grammar class at eight, reporting that the kitten really likes the mouse. I wondered, later on, what she's feeding the kitten, and if they have a litter box and what-not. Caring for a cat here is a pain in the ass. It's not like you can just stop at the corner store and pick up cat food and supplies. I go downtown for Kamikaze's stuff, though there is now one pet store in my area that carries some cat products. I hope she cares for her new kitten, but as I looked at the little thing, I caught myself thinking about chicks in a bag.

Speaking of things that cry, yesterday a disabled man wandered into the school with a big bag of things he was selling. Mostly there were packs of socks and toothbrushes. Jane initially said she wasn't interested, but then decided to have a look. She relented, and agreed to buy a 5-pack of socks, but started ripping open the bags to snatch out the pairs she liked and assemble herself a hand-picked assortment. The guy was protesting quite a lot, but Jane was overpowering him with, "Look! I'm buying your socks, but I want what I want!" When he started to cry, she started yelling at him to stop being a baby. While she was screaming at him, I set off for class. When she stopped by my classroom door a few moments later, I said, "Jane, why do you make your boyfriend cry?"

She told me to shut up.

And speaking of things that make me want to cry, today when I walked into my second to last class of the day, a little ten year old girl reached out and clasped the zipper of the sweatshirt I was wearing and WHOOSH - totally unzipped me.
I was only wearing a sports bra underneath.
Nice.

Petals

Today's Study on Grasshoppers and Their Environs

This grasshopper lives on a leaf.


This grasshopper lives on a spicy pepper.


These grasshoppers live on my desk.

Show Me the Money?

Well, my boss and I finally hashed out a dollar amount (or won amount, as it may be) to try to settle up tax and pension issues. It wasn't as much as I might have gotten if I were to sick the government offices on her, but it hopefully will keep things civil and save me the hassle of having to undo what she's done. See, she listed me as an "Independent Contractor" which means, pretty much, that I'm self employed and therefore responsible for a higher tax rate. It also means that I should be settling my taxes directly with the tax office. Instead, as you may know if you've been following this drama for any amount of time, she collected 1.7% ABOVE the rate of an Independent Contractor - and has submitted nada in my name to the tax office. For three years. That mess also affects my pension - as I gather "Contractors" weren't mandated to pay into pension until January 2006.

So we settled on a lesser amount, and I've been trying to convince myself to just "let it go." My boss has requested that I write up some sort of agreement on the amount we settled on, "in case you change [your] mind in a year or two." ("About suing [my] ass.")

Thing is, the first of her monthly payments toward settling up was due last week with my regular pay. Yet, it failed to appear in my bank account. I mentioned this to her today, and she told me she's very busy. Thankfully, she wasn't too busy to pay me my salary, but I suppose that coming up with a few extra hundred dollars takes more time? More abacus work? More visits to a fortune teller to determine the most auspicious days to GIMME? I don't know.

Funny. I'm very often thinking about patience. More specifically, I'm thinking about the fact that I have none. But I think I judge myself too harshly. It's been about a year now since we first started negotiating, and I've yet to actually turn her upside down and shake the money out of her.

Go, me!

Some Sage T-Shirt Advice

It's so true. I know that I don't have the time to talk busily always. Sometimes it's all I can manage to talk lethargically usually. Other days it's an effort to chat brusquely hardly ever. And YES, "Old thought ist't used nowadays!" These days itt's all about the New Thoughts. New thinking for a brave new world.


Again, so wise. Take it from me. I know a lot about what you should and shouldn't do. You should never ever under any circumstance make a Catti RuRu Decision. It would only turn out badly.


DO IT! ROCK IT! NOW! Not later. Not tomorrow. Not next week. NOW!! Right this second! Are you rocking it now? Come on! Why put off that which must be rocked until tomorrow when you must ROCK! IT! NOW!?!?!

Pay No Mind

To the Drama Queen behind the curtain, but honestly,... Sometimes
talking to my family makes me want to chop my head off. That can't be good, can it?

What You Need

I bought myself a new keyboard - not because my old one wasn't working, but because most of the letters had been rubbed out by my fingers. I didn't realize when I bought this keyboard, but the sides are all lit up with neon lights. Bonus! However, in typing that last bit, I've changed over to CAPS LOCK twice. That sucks.

I was home this evening enjoying my Sunday. That means I was without pants and floating between my computer, the TV, my book, and a nap. Perfect. But then the doorbell rang, and once I put pants on to answer it, I found my friend Ben on the other side. I thought it might be him, since just over an hour ago I'd gotten a message, "Let's sing a song!" from him.

Now see, that message does not specify. It doesn't say where, when, or for how long. And I maybe should be used to Ben's modus operandi, but on the other hand he should be used to my hatred of impulsiveness. But he's not. And I don't really understand that, as I'm so very grrrrr-ified when he shows up unannounced - which he always does.

See, if I'm home, I'm in my pyjamas. They're not fuzzy flannel and bunny themed, but they're PJ's nonetheless. They're comfy and I dig them. Really, they're a T-shirt and fleece palazzo pants or (like I was wearing today) shorts. Actually I wasn't wearing the shorts. I was sitting upon them. When the doorbell rang, my shorts were lining the computer chair and I was very close to napping stretched out on my bed.

So I put on my shorts and answered the door. And scolded Ben. Again. After leaving him outside for a few minutes - to tidy up just a little bit and get myself together, I let him in, and continued to try to straighten up. I needed a shower. In the meantime, a guy showed up with a box full of chicken. Ben had ordered it on the way over here. Yummy! Except I'd just eaten my brunch - wonton soup - not even an hour and a half before. And I still needed a shower.

I need advance notice. I need to prepare my space for a visit, or prepare myself if we're going out. I don't think that's unreasonable. It's better for everyone if you call ahead. Isn't that a rule?

So when we finally got down to it, there was some cold yangyum chicken that I wasn't hungry for, and a couple of hours worth of karaoke to be sung. And some rum. It was all good by then. But, initially,...

What is it with the friends I have these days who are fun and cool but like to BUG me? I'm far enough along in life to know what I'm like - good or bad, and so I broadcast that - and more often so, just fess up to it. Yet so many people insist on doing what it is that bugs me so.

I don't know what it is exactly. I think I'm sending mixed messages. Perhaps if you're easygoing in just about every other aspect of life, people won't take you for real in the few areas you'd like to be uncompromising about. Whatever it is, I'll bet that friendship isn't easy. You might want it to be, but there always seems to be some little pinprick that makes you go, "What the hell?" But I've had those moments in every single friendship in my life.

It's probably just me, but what is it with my friends who aren't giving me what I want and need?
What the hell?

WCB One Two Three - Kamikaze and Dog

Dog approached as Kamikaze napped.


Kamikaze woke up.
Ah! Doggy! Do you want to come nap with me?
This made Dog happy.

They snuggled up together.


But Dog started to hog the carrot and Kamikaze felt crowded.


Kamikaze woke right up and tried to reclaim his carrot.

Hoggy Dog, get your own carrot!

So Dog said, "Fine! If I can't sleep in your carrot with you then I shall sleep UPON you!"


Hey K, there's something on your back!

I know.

And I don't like it!


Get it off! Get it off! Get it off!


Sigh.


So I took Dog off Kamikaze, but I was surprised when Kamikaze asked for a kiss.
But he lied, and instead ate Dog's face off.


For more WCB-goodness you should slide on over to visit Sher and Upsie over at What Did You Eat? Thanks for hosting, Sher!

Some Comfort Food

With the weather getting a lot cooler at night, it's nice to have a nice comforting bowl of dinner.

Here we have some rice, scrambled eggs, and teriyaki chicken. The other bowls have mushrooms in oyster sauce, some sort of green leaves, and tomatoes and onions in some vinegar and soy sauce. I love meals where everything goes perfectly with everything else.

This meal was eaten while I sported super fuzzy green socks and watched Forest Gump for the manillionth time. If only someone had been playing with my hair as I ate, I would have been absolutely blissed out.

I tossed the mushrooms in the big bowl with the leftovers I couldn't finish because I got too full. In the morning, I pulled it out of the fridge and dumped it in the wok. Viola - instant easy breakfast!

What's your favourite comfort food?

Tangled Up in Blue

Juicy

Today my co-worker offered me some juice.


I said, "Ummmmmmmmm,....no thanks!"

Something You Don't See Everyday!

I was walking down the big hill on my way to work Wednesday and I noticed a splash of green on the stone wall beside me. Ah! A praying mantis! I will photograph you, green bug, and add you to my All Praying Mantii All the Time Blog!

But what are you doing exactly?


Your ass seems to be exploding.

It actually looked like there was a bug that was vomiting from the back end of the mantis. Look at those antennae things. They were feeling around as white goop spilled out of the rear of the insect.

Well - what she was doing, in fact, was laying her eggs. From Insecta Inspecta World "After mating, the female will lay groups of 12-400 eggs in the autumn, in a "frothy" liquid called an "ootheca", that turns into a hard protective shell. This is how these insects survive during the wintertime. Small mantids emerge in the spring. Often, their first meal is a sibling."

I offered to coach her through her labour, but she told me to "Bug Off!"


I've seen them hatch before, the baby bugs. They spread out from what I had assumed was a glop of wallpaper paste and covered my spare room when I lived in Japan - and I do mean covered. They were EVERYWHERE! They're fantastic when they break free - perfect tiny replicas of their parents. Mini-mantii!

Here's what the nest looked like on the way to work today. There was no sign of Mama Mantis, who probably went off to die somewhere.

Trying to Tell Me Something?

I got a lot of nice little presents from my students on my birthday last month. Mostly, it was stuff bought from the stationery store across the street. Cute pencils and things like that. A couple kids gave me stickers. I like stickers! Check out these nice doggy stickers. My student must have saw the English and thought, "Oh, Jelly will like these!"


But hold on a minute. What's that??


Well that's not very nice!!! Fuck you too, doggy stickers!

Ah well,...I got some cute rabbit stickers as well - so that makes up for the rude ones.


Nice little fuzzy rabbit sticke,....wait a sec. What's up with the guy in the corner?

Clearly, he's flipping me off.

I like the stickers, but they don't seem to like me! Rude little stickers!