Sunday, November 20, 2005

And you think you're fat...


Who the FUCK is that on the far right?

Whilst packing my apartment, I found this RMIT foundation year book. A magazine, which I've completely forgotten about.
After laughing at its cheap standard compared to my Satadal, I started flipping through, you know, to refresh my memory.
There it was, picture of group 2. I spent 5 seconds searching for myself. And then I realised that fat pig was indeed, me.
'Fuck me!' I swore to myself.
Now I know why people avoided me during that time. I'm a walking blob of fat! Look! Even in the photo my whole class were avoiding me. Ugh, look at that thunder thigh!
I can hear my pants crying for help! If you try real hard, you'd see my shirt has a pattern of Edvard Munch's 'The Scream' on it.
It's as if my tummy has lips! And it was going Mmmmmm hungry~
You might as well name the photo: Harvard's lunch.
If I were to have a time machine, I'd fly back in time to give the old me a hug. Then I'll stab him in the eye and yell 'Monster!'
Ah, memories. I can now dispose the magazine without any sense of regret or nostalgia. In fact, I shall burn it now.