11:10 PM

It is 11:10 p.m., my middle finger's skin is cracked deep at the nail, my pointer finger has a scar, my eyes hurt, my butt hurts in multiple ways, my knees feel funny, its hard to type, my jeans aren't that comfy, my hair is wet, and I binged today.
But I had badminton training and dear dear Lord. Thank. You. So. Freaking. Much.

Winter break

Things I did:
AoPS
SATs
Read Snoopy, House of Cards
Bejewelled Blitz
Mousehunt
Watched Forrest Gump
Watched 12 Christmas Dates
Bought birthday presents
Made birthday cards
Played badminton
Ran (outside...)
Walked (outside...)

Giving and Gifting

Receive:
Ring Pops, Sharpies,Would You Rather cards  (secret santa 1)
Hot cocoa and mug set (white elephant)
Fuzzy socks, knitted mittens (secret santa 2)
8x10 canvas, pocky-like tin (teacher)
$5 Blick gift card (teacher)
Xtremes (Oasis)
Fiber One (large pack) (secret santa 3)
Gum (5 packs Winterfresh and Doublemint) (secret santa 3)
Got Rice? mug (friend)

Give:
Owl necklace, kisses (secret santa 1)
When God Goes to Starbucks by Paul Copan, caramel chocolate (white elephant)
Goodie bags: ramen noodles, candy canes, animal fruit snacks, kisses, Tootsie pops, pencils, Starbursts, Jolly Rancher chews (Oasis)
Four 12-packs soda, UnChristian (the book) (secret santa 2)
$25 Macy's gift card (teacher)
$15 Starbucks gift card (teacher)
Dove dark chocolate, Godiva dark chocolate (teachers)
4-pack orange soda, pooping reindeer, hat, gloves, farting putty (secret santa 3)
Painting, chocolate, cookies, erasers (immediate family)
Hot cocoa and mug set, walrus chocolate ;) (distant family)
Album of cool, monkey soap (friend)
Penguin hat, quadruple cute lollipop (friend's birthday)
Starbucks, penguin soap, massage udder (friend's birthday)

MATH. TEAM.

BAM. BAM. BAM.
Math team 2012. Omg. Praise the Lord.
What a freaking semester.
Physics.
Oasis.
NSML. Transformations with matrices... omg. I'll kill you, #5 similiarity.
Precalc... lolers!
Written... nothing to say.
One good painting.
One famous huskie drawing x2
BADMINTON. BADMINTON. THANK YOU JESUS.
Small group.
Running +11k.
EDNOS relapse.
ARRIVAL. 2011. Our God is able. Our God is the best.

Freedom is not free. But freedom freedom freedom freedom.
My theme for 2012. Or maybe it was the theme for this year? IDK. But cool.

Not studying.

Because of the guitar.
Actually, even if there wasn't the guitar, I'd waste my time elsewhere. Like on Tumblr... or Bejeweled Blitz... or idk. AoPS.
I told my parents about Christopher Yuan, the speaker at Arrival, and they were shocked the church "allowed a homosexual to speak? I thought the church does not allow those people!" When I asked why, my dad said "because its a sin."
...torrent of rave explodes here.
Then my dad asked about finals, so I told him that I had physics and math on Tuesday... both my two highest scoring subjects... both which if I got an F on the final, I'd still have an A. And he said "try harder."
Soooo that's my real reason for not studying. Because I'm mad.
Maturity is the name of the game...

Charlie Brown, you're so cool...

Well, I'll be!
...How about that?
I'm not used to having somebody listen to what I have to say!
You don't like me, do you?
I have observed that whenever you try to hit somebody, there is a tendency for them to try and hit you back.
(You are a shrewd judge of human nature, Charlie Brown. -Violet)
I think I'll just lie here until the first snow comes and covers me up.
WHAT MAKES YOU THINK YOU'RE HAPPY?
Charlie Brown

Charlie Brown, your faith in human nature is an inspiration to all young people.
Lucy

Which would you rather see me have... crooked teeth or a warped personality?
Linus

Want to eat?

Not tumbling this. Too personal for that.

Addictive Personality

Who would have guessed that health class would be interesting? I have my criticisms, but regardless..
So there was a speaker called Larry. He was an alcoholic who got addicted at 8 years old. He partied hard and apparently, doesn't regret his life of more more more more. More alcohol, more drugs, more sex, more pills. Beer vodka wine pot weed crack (are those the same things...) sex sex pills pills. He just wanted more.

And I think about myself. If I were raised in an alcoholic family, I'd probably be just as addictive. I would want more and more. Just give me one thing, one thing with carbs, and it will be gone. A week's worth of egg bread? Gone in one afternoon. A loaf of raisin bread? Gone in the morning. A bag of carrots? One night. A box of tomatoes? Afternoon snack. Sushi buffet? Leftovers are mine. I can eat it all. But it has to be the same. Throw in a strawberry, I'll reject it. Meat for the bread, I'll throw it away. Icecream? Not even a consideration. Even bubble tea, I'll dump it all down the drain. All four dollars and fifty cents. Sometimes I wonder what will happen when I have even more control of what I eat.

Tomato Face

Her face was red hot. Not body hot, just temperature hot. Hot like he was holding candles to her cheeks.

What an embarrassment she was. How embarrassing she was to herself, to the boy, to her friends. All she could do was stutter and blush. Hot hot hot hot hot. Sometimes it was worse than hot - it was hot lukewarm. When everyone could notice but it would never fade away from her cheeks.

It is because I eat too much, she thought to herself. Calories = heat. When I am full of fat, I blush. When I am fat, I blush. Fat fat fat. Blush blush blush.

So she began not eating. So she began to be not fat.

In time, her face became pale. Yellow, beautiful pale. A pale so smooth and light that she said to herself, yes, finally you are pretty. What a smooth complexion you have. Everyone will like you now.

But when the time came, and the boy stood in front of her, she still blushed. Red hot. Temperature hot. Hot like he was holding candles to her cheeks.

So she ate less. So she was not fat even more.

In time, she lost her hair. It came out in tufts when she combed it with her fingers. She lost her period. Her chest was flat. She used the bathroom too often. But that was okay, because she could weigh herself in the bathroom. 103 pounds. When it was more, she cursed herself and threw away her lunch. When it was less, she praised God and threw away her lunch. Because she could be not fat even more.

But when the time came, and the boy stood in front of her, she still blushed. Red hot. Temperature hot. Hot like he was holding candles to her cheeks. And one day the boy did not stand in front of her anymore.

But I am not fat, she cried. Look at me! No one is not fat like me.

She was 94 pounds when they took her to the hospital. Her BMI was 16.5. It was her best record so far.

The doctor was fat. The doctor asked, how many calories do you eat a day?

About 1000, she said. But I am always full.

Well, you can be full on cake or full on watermelon, the doctor retorted. 1000 is way too little. Peanut butter. That is the solution. Spread peanut butter over all of your bread. Do not buy the reduced fat kind.

Well, you are fat, she thought. She did not eat peanut butter. But already her hair was a quarter gone. Her chest was still flat. She used the bathroom too much.

So her mom took away the scale. And she ate more than 1000 calories a day. She was afraid because she was becoming fat, but she wanted her hair back. She wanted her womanhood back in sight. She wanted to use the bathroom regularly.

Many days, she hated herself. She thought, you are fat. You are fat and you are still red. But many days, she prayed to God. She prayed, help me, God. Restore my body. Only you will restore my body. She read the Bible feverishly. One hour a night. That was how long she used to spend tracking calories, reading articles about how to lose weight. How to be not fat.

God restored her one day. Her hair was strong. Her period came back. She used the bathroom like everyone else. 110 pounds. 1500 calories. Soon she turned 13 years old.

Don't Hate, Appreciate

There aren't any good posts on Tumblr about what I want to say. 

"——家好瘦噢！但是我觉得——还可以。"

Family is so skinny! Except me. I'm okay.

Except me. I'm fatter.

"哎哟，好装噢！"

How strong she looks!

How big I look! How well I'm fed! How much I eat!

"妹妹...吃一点巧克力吧。" It's white chocolate. Its good for you. 

Have some cherries, little girl. Eat more, granddaughter. You like the sauce, don't you? Hey 小姐, let's get another dish of this! You want some ice cream? It's really good here. Look! I bought ice cream just for you guys. This is really high quality ice cream. You're sweating so much - want to buy ice cream?

McDonalds is the best. It is good to have everything once in a while. Is that all you're eating? Stop eating, save some for Mom. That's enough, I need this food for work. Want half of my fish sandwich? Salad again? Drink some water. Why not? You must have read somewhere that water is bad for you. The most important thing is to be healthy. The reason your stomach hurt was because your eating habits are horrible. You need a lot of energy to play a sport. Athletes have to eat more. You have black circles under your eyes when you come home from practice. Go outside to run. You ran for an entire 40 minutes? That's a lot. Eat some fruit. I always eat something before I go to sleep so I don't become hungry. You don't eat enough fruit. Fruit is good for you. There is nothing wrong with this cereal bar - its not sugar, its honey. Nuts are good for you. It's okay to eat that much. I love it when you eat my food. I made these muffins out of beans - they're unbelievably low calorie. You would not believe what I put in these. Eggs have too much cholesterol - its bad to eat more than two a week. You have to eat your egg - everyone is eating one. Are you a health freak? Have some fun. Enjoy life. You should eat more. You have to finish those fries before we leave. Its taking so long for them to make that veggie burger because no one ever orders it. Fish is good for you. Watermelon has too much sugar. You can't have more than a handful of almonds a day. You eat too little at dinner and too much afterwards. Bubble tea will give you cancer. I don't want to get too bulky with muscle. I'm not wearing this belt for aesthetic purposes - I've been noticing my stomach bunching up, and I don't like that. Can you finish the rest of my carrots? Fat! We'll tell you if you're gaining too much weight. Anorexic. I know about you. I love you, so you should love yourself. I'm taking five pills a day. When do you eat? Do you even know what taurine is? Do you know what's in this can of Monster? I eat a lot at home. Eat what I baked for you - you have to. That's all the rice you have? Even I'm eating more than you. There is so much protein in eda mame. Tofu = boobs. For skinny girls, there is bean curd. I know something about badminton that you don't - it'll make you boobs better. Prune juice is the best cleanser ever. Caffeine stunts your growth. 

Stop. Just stop. You don't know anything.

Fashionably Anorexic

There are no such things as close answers. There are only right and wrong answers.
In math, anyway.

Anyway, Amy Tan, in your book, Joy Luck Club, Lena mentions being fashionably anorexic at the age of 13.
Woman, there is no such thing as being fashionably anorexic. There are sick anorexics and dead anorexics, but there are no fashionable anorexics. Anorexia nervosa is the most deadly psychological disease. It's not about the body anymore - it's all the in head. Do you know what self-torture in which anorexics induce on themselves? The hate, the fear, the way they are ruining their lives by bringing their metabolism to a standstill, their beautiful, God-given bodies to flat prunes, and their gorgeous hair to oily, balding heads? Fashion isn't even a consideration when you are killing yourself.

As for the people who don't keep their promises like me, well.
We're dumb.

Fat

Halloween is in 23 days. 23 days, and les quartiers (neighborhoods sounds stupid today) will be full of Twizzlers, Nerd ropes, Hershey bars, and select few toothbrushes. Maybe some ya zhou jia will be giving out fortune cookies again.
Last year, choco fat started on Halloween. When tu pense le gras ne viendras pas, YOU ARE ONE SCREWED LITTLE BOY OR GIRL. Invincibility just isn't our thing. Last year, I 69%ed a test after mealing on chocolate and I changed the course of the rest of my freshman year when I blew math team tryouts.
LE GASP LE GASP I GAVE OUT MY AGE AHH.^
Math team means a lot around here, jsyk...


This post is just a reminder. Don't be a fou. Imbécile. Cot. Digging myself out of that trench took half of year... and I don't want to live like 
a bulimic that doesn't throw up ever again.

Try Again

I was wondering if God was convicting me to go outside or if I really just wanted to buy a bag of M & Ms for my friend. Blue skies. I was leaving my friend's house (after dropping off a bag of fun-sized M & Ms that were $1.40 off for $3.05 - tax) and awkwardly stumbled upon an old Chinese woman. I didn't expect anything; traditionally, Asians walking in the same path cross each other without eye contact or even a smile.
"yi che shi shi?" she questioned.
"...我...听不懂." I was bewildered. Old Asian women don't speak to strangers...
But she continued. I began to recognize a dialect of Chinese spilling from her mouth. She certainly recognized my response. She was lost. Mumble jumble poop. She'd been walking for two hours. Mumble more jumbo poo. Her house number was 1744. Heck, I was lost in her words. I didn't know how to help her. The closest 1744 house was 5 miles away across two very large intersections Asian old women would never, ever cross.
I ran back in the house and asked Mr. Friend's Dad to help. He was lost too, mostly because the woman didn't know her phone number or street. The confusion persisted for an hour.
Mr. Friend's Dad stepped inside.
"I don't know what to do. Here are the last names of her daughter and son-in-law, but these are very ambiguous spellings, and I have to work. She said she is going to go try again."
I rushed to the window to see Old Woman ambling away.
"TRY AGAIN?" I screamed. "This is not a small neighborhood where you can just TRY AGAIN."
By the time I got off my arse, the woman was gone. I didn't know which way too go to find her. I wish I had prayed with her. I got on my bike, chose a random direction, and began a very unsystematic method of search, driven purely by hope.
Half of a mile later, I stopped. What am I doing, I thought. I am really a dumb one. I pulled out my phone and called Friend2 without thinking.
"FRIEND2," I shouted, really in the mood for shouting. "Do you know anyone with the last name LASTNAME?"
"Uh... yeah. Why?"
"There was an old Asian lady walking by Lauren's house and she was lost but she doesn't know anything except her daughter and her son-in-law's last name and she doesn't know her phone number or address except that the number is 1744."
"Wait. What? Can you say that slower?"
"REPEATREPEATREPEAT."
"Oh. I'll ask my mom. Can I call you back?"
"..............................Yeah."
So then for no reason at all, I turned around and biked in the opposite direction, driven by more hope and a little more logic from inquiring the neighbors.
Cell phone vibrates.
"HI."
"Hey, do you know where the old lady is?
"No... I'm biking in a right direction to find her right now."
"Okay, well we found the family. It's them."
". ."
". ."
"Okay?! What else?"
"Can you call when you find her?"
"Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaah."
Hang up. I biked another 2 miles before the phone vibrated once more.
"CHINESECHINESEDAUGHTERFRIENDBIKEFOUNDYOURDAUGHTERSTREETNAMECALLYOURMOM."
I stood there listening. . "Wait. 我的妈妈?"
"Oh. This is Beaburz? Sorry sorry sorry. Okok. Are you still in your neighborhood?" (Chinese)
"No I left. I'm biking trying to find her."
"Oh. That's good. I'm going to give your phone number to the family so they can call, okay?"
"Okay... Thanks." (Still Chinese)
Bike more. Uphill downhill preschool school. Grass and trees and fleas and knees. Cell phone vibrates.
"Hello..."
"Hi. This is NAME. I just want you to know that I found my mom while I was driving. Thank you so much for the information so we know where to look. We were just driving around and around the neighborhood. Thank you so much. Thank you so much."
"Thank God thank God. You're welcome. Okay thank God. Okok bye."
Story of the day hope you liked it I'm tired okay GOD IS GOOD


7:35 am September 28, 2011: See You at the Pole
Johnathan Mann (http://twitter.com/#!/jonjonmann) prays at Naperville North High School for students to be light.
8:50 am September 28, 2011: Throughout Naperville North High School

"At approximately 8:50 AM today Naperville North's fire alarm system was activated when a main transformer located outside of the building malfunctioned causing a power outage. Students and staff successfully followed the established procedures for evacuation of the building. The Naperville Fire Department arrived on the scene and determined the source of the alarm. There was no fire in the building, but a small amount of smoke was detected in the basement where the lines enter the building.
While the building has been cleared for re-occupancy and backup generators are supplying power to phones, emergency lighting and the fire alarm system, NAPERVILLE NORTH WILL CLOSE FOR THE REMAINDER OF THE DAY WITH PLANS TO REOPEN TOMORROW." 
http://schools.naperville203.org/north/
See you at the pole next year.

Hoco hohos

Ho-Oh is a Pokemon but I like calling it Hoho.

This whole homecoming thing with decorations and free water bottles and cookies and boyz and dresses and music doesn't fly by very easily for most people. Does every single person who goes to school dances really love to jump and scream to some pop music about 53X and L0V3? (btw there is "love" in revolution spelled backwards mindblown mindblown mindblown)

People say just to bounce and move the hips and shoulders to the beat or the bass or something but I kind of just prefer to stand there and watch people dance. There were a couple times I was obligated to jump and pump but that was mostly because my friends were holding my hands and already dancing. I feel like watching the supervisors would be more entertaining.

There should be worship nights instead of homecomings.

Less than 4

I ran three miles today and I don't feel a thing.

Coolness, man. XC 4 d WiN.

...k. Anyway, I got two staff members to burst into explosive guffawing after mentioning authoritative classroom profanity. It was pretty cool too.

So things I learned recently:

1. Eating = emotions

2. Exercise = efficiency 

3. Eating + Exercise = k * efficiency (that is, eating and exercising are directly related to efficiency and is reflected in, you guessed it, my grades)

Cue hartz for skool.

Stuffing

"You are wrong in so many ways that if I cried enough tears to quench the thirst of Africa, I would not be able to express my horror and despair."

^what I think about when I relieve myself

"I cried so hard I lost weight."

^Chris Tomlin, at his Hello Love concert in Chicago, 2008? 2009. I forget.

Other things I thought about recently:

working hard

badminton

sleeping

dumb PSATs that don't count

teachers
analytical writing

standard based grading (. . .)

social hierarchy

defending my friends

the weather

running

fat (mostly centered around the stomach)

fat loss

going to church
grades
muscle
eating

My mind is idle...

Sardines

What is it called when someone sings to you? Seranading? Caroling? Sardines?
I'll just go with sardines for now. (I know its not sardines but I don't think seranading sounds really nice)
So I think I was sardined today... It was thoroughly embarassing, although mostly because I almost screamed WHAT before Korea started into some really nicely augmented lyrics.
Yeah I think I'll just go with the name Korea for now. No specific reason.
Also I'm pretty sure augmented is not the right word but before today I didn't even know the musical artists of Hey Soul Sister.
It was nice.

Each Individual Leaf

When the glasses were ready, we all went down to the optometrist. The lenses were so thick they made Lori's eyes look big and bugged out, like fish eyes. She kept swiveling her head around and up and down.
"What's the matter?" I asked. Instead of answering, Lori ran outisde. I followed her. She was standing in the parking lot, gazing in awe at the trees, the houses, and the office buildings behind them.
"You see that tree over there?" she said, pointing at a sycamore about a hundred feet away. I nodded. 
"I can not only see that tree, I can see the individual leaves on it." She looked at me triumphantly. "Can you see them?"
I nodded.
She didn't seem to believe me. "The individual leaves? I mean, not just the branches but each little leaf?"
I nodded. Lori looked at me and then burst into tears.
The Glass Castle (Walls, 96 - 97)

Today my sister and I shared the exact same experience. Except when my sister said that she could see each individual leaf, she didn't know that she was quoting Jeannette Walls. I did.

...Lori loved seeing the world clearly. She started compulsively drawing and painting all the wondrous things she was discovering, like the way each curved tile on Emerson's roof cast its own curved shadow on the tile below, and the way the setting sun painted the underbellies of the clouds pink but left the piled-up tops purple.
Not long after Lori got her glasses, she decided she wanted to be an artist, like Mom.

For the Records. . .

Today was a day that I didn't care about getting the highest GPA possible.
Cue... now.
GASPGASPGASPGASPGASP.

Upon reflecting the worthlessness of AP Biology (Molecular Bio sucks CHONPS), the waste of AP Environmental, and the redundancy of AP Psych (I love Professor Bloom), I think I'm going to take the initiative to kick Collegeboard in the potato sacks and not take the courses. Also I don't do the whole espan-squiggle-ol thing and I hate history with a FIERE passion (so no AP Spanishs or AP Euro).

And I decided after thoroughly enjoying AP Studio that taking useful courses like this one would be more effective to the development of my adolescent mind. Not really but I'm done pleasing the 'rents with a bulk of proud Chinese glorified college tests.

And I came up with a new name for College Board: Papa AP. Because Papa is two backward AP's... LOL sigh I'm not that funny. ACTs can be rearranged to tacs, which sounds like tax.

Better yet, Lady Gaga giggles when you poke her face.

Just for keepsakes

Long serve: wrist cocked at side towards birdie, swing follows through to face server, NO SLICING

Short serve: wrist only, start high, racket head down, only push towards net. possible raise of calves to push downwards

Smash: elbow back, contact point far, wrist snaps forward, down, and straight, follow through.

Push: wrist cocked straight up, push is straight. racket sides move on parallel plane towards net at same time.

Switching feet: jump to left foot, poopers. in order to shift weight, DO NOT FALL BACKWARDS; instead stop at right, jump to left. left foot should kick backwards

Kill: all momentum thrust. be faster. DO NOT TURN SHOULDERS. THIS DESTROYS ALL POWER. step forward, towards birdie, not net

Drops: momentum conserved. step into it. step and reach at same time. stepping first is too slow; birdie drops too quickly

Lift: wrist cocked, wrist only, swing follows through to face server, NO SLICING. racket stays in front as always, poops.

EVERYTHING FOLLOW THROUGH. WITHOUT DIS YOU DIE (less powerful). Also if racket is stopped midswing, birdie bounces (reverberates) and poops on through air.

I have never been so happy to be so terrible at my game. Butts and doodles.

The Story of the Bird

I was eating at Double's Court for dinner today and I ordered a chicken filet for 3 dollars and 21 cents. To my surprise, the waiter dropped a white bird on my plate, feathers still attached. I pushed the bird away and demanded for the food to be redone, but the waiter was very firm that the food had cleared FDA regulations - with high marks. Not wanting to make a racket in public, I let the waiter package the bird for take-away. Unhappy, starving, and hurried, I drove the bird home. I decided to cook it myself, although this would be a long shot since I only make sandwiches.In the kitchen, I plucked the dumb thing, smashed it with some spices, and threw it in the oven. 10 minutes later, I knew the dish would be a success as I lifted it out of the oven. The bird was served for dinner that night.

In case you didn't catch my wicked humor:

I was eating at Double's Court for dinner today and I ordered a chicken filet for 3 dollars and 21 cents. To my surprise, the waiter dropped a white bird on my plate, feathers still attached. I pushed the bird away and demanded for the food to be redone, but the waiter was very firm that the food had cleared FDA regulations - with high marks. Not wanting to make a racket in public, I let the waiter package the bird for take-away. Unhappy, starving, and hurried, I drove the bird home. I decided to cook it myself, although this would be a long shot since I only make sandwiches. In the kitchen, I plucked the dumb thing, smashed it with some spices, and threw it in the oven. 10 minutes later, I knew the dish would be a success as I lifted it out of the oven. The bird was served for dinner that night.

Serves

1. To serve others, a cause, poops. Because Jesus came to serve, not to be served.

2. A serving of food, revenge, or knuckle sandwich. Tasty. Too large in America. You know what exchange students say when they come to America? "I love ze food. Not because eet eez better, but zair eez MORE!"

3. To serve the ball in the beginning of a point. Tennis, volleyball, ping pong, sepak tawraw... they all look nice. Much nicer than the badminton serves, but that's too bad because I don't do the balls without feathers. Anyway:
 
a. the Ice Cream Scoop: lobbing the bird in the motion similar to the spooning desserts.
 
b. the Windmill: a single, 270 degree rotation of the shoulder that flings the bird in a ridiculous but effective fashion.
 
c. the Stupid Windmill: a single, 270 degree rotation of the shoulder which stops just short of the falling bird, to plop the bird at the opposing service line. Often used to fake out and humiliate inattentive opponents or if server changes his mind. Changing your mind is a stupid thing to do in the middle of a stroke.
 
d. the Flapper: traditional long serve with requires only a correct grip, proper stance, carpal strength, steady posture, mental focus, controlled power, and accurate timing. NBD.
 
e. the Butt: traditional short serve that requires only a correct grip, proper stance, controlled carpals, steady forearms, mental focus, and accurate timing. NBD.
 
f. the Boot: flat serve that pushes to back court and doesn't cross the midline until last second. A true butt.

Drops

You know how I like my drops? By the bundle. Mostly because I usually get the point that way.
Ahem. Anyway.

1. Liquid droplets. Bonded by hydrogen, covalence, ions, dipoles... whatever. These drops are rather troublesome to try and get on the tongue; it can require sometimes more than a radian rotation of the bottle...

2. The crests that looks like a smileys. The parabolas with positive coefficients on x^2 in standard form. I don't really like these drops unless its just frequency times wavelength. C? <- =D

3. I am pun master. See the end of 2.

4. I digress. FOUR. Long falls. Such as from buildings, refrigerators, horses, and donkeys. These drops hurt and put insurance to good use.

5. Badminton finesse. Pretty, rolling birdies. I'm bad at those cross court ones, since I don't move my forearm right or something. Emphasis on finesse, because if it doesn't roll, it blows. In the face. Or boobs. DROP OR LIFT, THIS IS A GIFT. ...OR YOU CAN PUSH, OR YOU'LL BE SMUSHED.

I'm also a rhyme master.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h01NGQRW_IY