Friday, August 04, 2006
She's moved. She can't study at home. So she came here. And we ate crappy chinese food from the skytrain station, which strangely doesn't use MSG, even though the fancy dancy one by my place does. She's going to have her final tomorrow and pass with flying colours and become an office admin person EXTRAORDINAIRE.
If we're lucky, she might still pretend to like us. Maybe she'll even talk to us. If the aliens don't attack first.
Because right now, all those alien ships are closing in. All around the world, but most importantly, on AMERICA. Only Mr Hot President Man can save us now. Look at that calm exterior. Inside he's terrified. But he's so full of soothing words. "Then God help us," he says. What a good american. How odd that he looks like Bill Pullman. How fortunate that he can fly a plane. I wish he were my president. Then I could sleep easily at night, knowing that Mr Hot President Man will protect me from alien invasions.
In the meantime, Natasha will be "studying". Maybe she'll use her super secret super powers to protect me. And you. Kinda like Jesus does. Cuz he loves us. Each and every one of us. Just like Natasha. "If you feel compelled to shoot your neighbour," she says, "please do so in an orderly fashion." See? She cares.
But first she has to finish her final tomorrow morning. And then she has to buy carpet. And then she has to unpack. And then she has to check on her personal midgets that have been locked up in the cupboard since the big move. She left them with a bit of old bread and water, but we're nearing a week now and they still haven't seen the light of day. Maybe they've eaten the cat in the meantime. That'd be a shame. They might catch her blindness.
For the record, I don't really think Mr Pullman's all that hot. He ain't bad, it's true, but he's not my cup of tea. But I won't deny that he's a lovely looking fella. Much like most everyone else in the world. We all have our inner beauty. That's why Jesus loves us. Each and every one of us. Just like Natasha does.