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The Terrible Writings of Quentin Montejo
Serial experiments on a fallen archangel who only wanted to regain just one wing back
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Free of the World. Rain worshipper. Hermit. Tormented mind.
Caged spirit. Defiant and eternal enemy of Destiny and Fate. Poet. Scientist. Artist. Daydreamer.
He who laughs. Slacker. Sleeper. Romancer of wings and clouds. Fiercely independent. He who is ponderous.
Games and anime junkie. Four eyes. Caveman. Nature-lover. He who doesn't think that hard. Non-smoker.
Music-junkie. Counter of blessings. Guitar-hugger.
He who simply wants what everybody else would like to be in this world and the next -- to be happy. |
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Monday, February 21, 2005
Saturday Saturday
Went drinking with friends in Tagaytay last Saturday. Despite me being the hermit that I am, I was glad I made the decision. My lungs still felt like it's bleeding because of all the laughing I did back there.
I played my guitar til my fingers really hurt (strangely, I didn't get finger cramps). I sang with wild abandon -- we had a couple in the group who had good singing voices. The truth (i.e. spin the bottle) game was really fun while drinking the alcoholic concoction they made, and the slap-card game was hilarious. The losers get to drink half a plastic cup of Bailey's. To me that was a win-win situation. If I lose the round, I drink all of the stuff which is what I came there for. 1 Comments:
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