The Terrible Writings of Quentin Montejo
Serial experiments on a fallen archangel who only wanted to regain just one wing back
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.
Saturday, September 08, 2007
Mr. Procrastinator came to an IELTS exam today. Heck, he didn't even review substantially considering he applied for the exam less than two weeks ago.
He didn't expect a lot of people taking it on one fine Saturday morning. The people ranged from elitist looking people, to able seafarer-looking bunch. And there he was, feeling as alien as ever.
He's so comfortable, he went in his sandals, dirt pants, and passport. He never even cared to get himself a pencil thinking he can get one in there anyway.
May napulot nga siya, nyahahaha
He's like, yeah, I'm going to ace this shit. What he doesn't know is that Brit accent feels different verbally using it than from listening to it.
So when he tried listening, he was dreaming the voice actors in Read or Die. And well, missed a few answers.
"Oh well", he shrugs.
Reading bored him. Since he finished wayyy too early and didn't care to review the answers he slumped in his seat and imagined something worthwhile to daydream. The reading material was interesting though, so at least he could expand his knowledge about UK population demographics.
He chuckled on that one. He remembered back in grade school where he memorized three thick books about demography and population education for an interschool competition. It actually was boring, but since he's the only one in class that could shove tons of information in his brain he had no choice.
The last part was a writing exam. The last task was to write an opinion about the violence caused by watching cartoons.
They required at least 250 words.
He wrote more than 500.
Hey it was a touchy topic D:
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