9:53 p.m. - 2001-05-05
dear, oh how dear...
dear oh dear...
dear graduating class of 96,allow me to wish you all a few sentences from my disappearing mind....oh mine...i remember those heady days of youth...tumbling in the grass with my loved one."oh! lassie." what a wet nose you have.
if i asked you whether you loved me,which part of your body would you use to answer me...your heart or your mind ...as you instinctively yelp a resounding "feed me!" oh! you;you're so insatiable!
never walk under ladders and remember to clip the rabbit's tail and never plagiarise words from songs you heard from movies made in foreign countries that don't speak english.
well,i'm not the only one.there's lotsa mediocre minds around,take your share,don't take the lion's share;he'll eat you.
down from the deep recesses...that funny economic recession is making everyone stay away from visiting the economic rice store.oh auntie.i miss your generous helpings...how come you've turned stingy.
if i may,i'll declare you as the patron saint of gardenia girls...cos you're such a regular patron and oh so saintly,you never get muddied as you walk through everything.
the streets may burn like fiery coals under your feet but i'll never see you stumble as you bend over and kiss her toes.i'm just not worthy...jesus don't want me for a sunbeam.i guess i'll be a cat.
oh life,how short. and how long will national service last before i turn in my grave and weep those tears i never wept i never wet the bed.it made me wet instead.
i'll tell you all a story about captain pollution....just hang on my dear students and try ,try to absorb everything without being spoonfed.that's pronounced as "spoomf-uh".take everything with a pinch of salt but beware of hypertension,my grandmother got stroked by it.
there's this day ,if i remember,it was a terribly sunny day which the eskimos would have a field day crying at their melting homes.well,me old friend the sargeant major had a wonderful task for me and me old mates.we were to dispose of all these old jerry cans of gasoline,oh pure combustible gasoline.these green cans named after a stupid army bloke called jerry were filled with unused gasoline by some useless bloke who filled them in the first place and so our job,you see,was to empty them for that old bloke.empty the whole lot of them into these big rusty oil drum some 500 metres away.me and another mate,that irritatingly loveable guy,treeson.
treeson was pushing this aluminium trolley carrying these "jerry" cans and so i walked over to him and asked "what's up?". and he told me and so i followed along.
we reached the oil-drums at the back of the garage and there were 4 others waiting there for the cans.
they picked up the cans.a brilliant day it was,i must say. and then we poured it into the drains.the big oil drums stood there dumbfounded. we wiped our sweat and say,"ooohh...can you imagine all the gasoline going into the sea..."it was a fast job.
and right now...as you can see...have a glass of water...uhm..
