Hello, it's me again. Loads of stuff happened when I was gone, like that earthquake. It caused this tsunami that just rose straight from the sea and brought death and destruction everywhere it went.
It's really sad and all those people died. I wonder whether this'll go down in history, it'd be strange.

Anyway, here's an account of how I spent Christmas Eve: We went to our relative's house. They were dreadfully condescending and they took hours preparing dinner (well, no, actually the maid was saddled with all the cooking) so that my sis and I fell asleep draped over said relative's karaoke room sofas. My brother decided that it would be jolly good fun poking me to see if I'd wake up and I did, in a very foul mood. So I got straight up and made ready to pinch the living daylights out of him but my dad just had to stop me with his usuaql moralizing speech on how siblings should love each other. Whatever it is, I certainly don't remember him doing the same to my brother when I was seven and he sat on me in the swimming pool so that I nearly drowned (note: I got a terrible scolding when I did the same to him though).

Hi, haven't updated for ages! Alright, I'm updating now, like at twelve midnight. Lots of stuff happened, we had to go over to the relative's house for Christmas, yucks. The whole lot of them were ever sooo condescending and we had to wait for hours for the dinner to be ready and my sister and I were totall fed up and we just fell asleep draped over the couches in said relative's karaoke room. I woke up only when my brother decided that it would be jolly good fun to poke me and seee what he got. Well, I got up and got ready to pinch the skin off his arm but my dad just had to stop me. He went on another "Oh, he's your brother, he's got a problem" jaunt.
Oh yeah, another thing, while I was gone a tsunami just upped and caused death and destruction, it's awful huh?

I've got rashes everywhere!!!

Yesterday a painter came to my place and painted one of the bathrooms and some of the other walls near my bedroom. Well, today, I'm plastered all over with a thousand rashes, it started itching after I applied that suntan lotion my mum gave me, so I'm not really sure it's the paint that did it but I'm still pretty positive that it was. As a result, I've decided to sleep in the livingroom tonight. It's coming to 12 pm and I'm still itching like hell--even the insides of my ears itch! I've also gone this queer reddish pink and I scratched so much that because of all the friction, my skin's also become hot enough to fry eggs. Not that I'm about to try it.

Also, I am pleased to announce that my highly irreverent letter to my kindergarten teacher has found her alive and well (so I am not guilty of manslaughter), and she has also sent back a terribly huffy e-mail which I enclose here:

Dear Fairypenguin,
Yes, I am alive but I did fall extremely ill after drinking my cammomile tea (it soothes the nerves after a hard day of taking care of imbeciles like you) from your mug (may I add that I took only a mouthful of that tea before the rest of it spilt onto my best rug--it is now ruined because of you--due to your shoddy workmanship. As for your mama, I can only hope that she is not dead of despair from having such a wicked child.

Also, I must quash your hopes of gaining ten dollars off your friend for I am now married to a very good man--I no longer need to operate a childcare center because I am now a homemaker--so there! Humph!

Furthermore,--here is something even an ungrateful wretch like you should fall to your knees in gratitude for--as I am a very magnanimous, forgiving soul who has the greatness of spirit to feel pity for all inferior to myself, I will not press charges for your attempting to kill me although I must add that it would herald a great loss to this world. Good day!

Your Teacher,
Mrs Sanctimonious

Oh well, good day to you too then.

And to the rest of you out there, doesn't that remind you of a certain science teacher?
(Hint: It's someone who refused extra tuna on her sandwich because she fondly thought that she was so important that people are trying to curry favour with her left and right.)

A Parody

Hi! To all you folks out there in the wide world: This is a parody (if you don't know what a parody is, check it up in your dictionary in the 'P' section and call your nearest shrink for an I.Q. test).

Dear Old Teach (I've forgotten your name so forgive me if this form of address is in any way offensive)
It's been donkey years since we've last met and boy, am I glad! The less I see of you the better. Anyway, I'm writing this letter in the hope that you shall read it and grow so angry that you start foaming at the mouth and fall to the floor in a fit the way all teachers in cartoons are apt to do. I'd call it ample compensation for all the evil things you did to little kids.

All right, I'll start from the beginning, first of all, I want to interrogate you.

Question 1) Are you married yet? (I hope you haven't, because that'll make you a spinster and as for myself, I'll be ten dollars richer if I haven't lost the phone number of the girl I made a bet with all those years ago)

Question 2) Do you still run a kindergarten? (I didn't make a bet on this, the question's just out of pure curiousity)

Question 3) Do you still have that mug I gave you on Teacher's day?

Question 4) Did you drink out of that mug? (if you did, you shouldn't be reading this, you'd be six feet under in a little box because I just found out the other day that the glaze I used was actually nail varnish that degenerates over time and dissolves into water and all the other beverages you like to drink)

Question 5) Are you mad at me? Because I didn't do it on purpose, honest.

Question 6) Could you write back to me? (my e-mail's just over at the right side of the screen)

That mug thing's causing me alot of grief, my mum's worried because you might be dead and that it's my fault (it would make me guilty of homicide) so please write back and tell her you're alive, I beg you.

Your Sincerely (in the hope that you're alive and won't press charges),
Fairy Penguin
(your fearing-that-you-are-dead student)