In grade 2, one of my most hated years in my life, like first year med, first year college, hellowship, 2nd year high school… wait if I go on I would sound totally miserable. AHAHAHA. So in grade 2 one fun fun fun day who should celebrate her birthday but one of our classmates, Cathy. The teacher egged her to go in front so we could sing to her, and she did. She smiled and giggled and cheered as we sang, not realizing that fifteen years into the future she would… wait I don’t know what happened to her, so nothing there. So we sang sang sang and we clapped genuinely because truly birthdays are totally cheeri-o.
After the singing the teacher asked her to close her eyes for a few seconds and wish for something. She did. The teacher then asked her, “What did you wish for?”
And you know what she said? YOU KNOW WHAT SHE FUCKING SAID?!
She said: I WANT SPAGHETTI.
I am doing a pointless anecdotification because truly, right now, in total hunger: I WANT SPAGHETTI. Although probably not in the level that Smoketh WANTS SPAGHETTI. There is no way that I can WANT SPAGHETTI the same way Smoketh WANTS SPAGHETTI. This is obviously an aftermath of last Saturday, when we attended the dedication of Mrs. Therese’s second child, Pipo. After the ceremony we lightened up as we saw a cute plate containing red spaghetti, hotdog-let with marshmallow, chicken lollipop, and cream puffs. We were poised to eat the luscious treats when we discovered that… the plate is for kids and adults have a separate buffet of rice vegetables beef buko pandan and other adult food!!!!
So you know you want it Cathy and we know we fucking want it too. We want to slurp it bite it get our faces smeared in it. We want, oh how we want, spaghetti.