[5]

Dear Diary,
About the last two entries? Oh, por favor. It does not take a chicken to know that it is not necessarily true. I mean, I just met those two whiny women over lunch and from what my eyes gathered and translated by the good neurons of my brain, one is size S and another is not more than size M. Yet they have the nerve to say they're fat. I must be an ogre then.

Once again, por favor.

Having said that, I guess I am a weakling whenever F is involved. No doubt about that. The moment my eyes set on the menu, I was like, lamb chop please and a cheese cake for dessert. Well, do you think you could spare me a Dark Chocolate cake too?

What was I thinking?

Obviously, I wasn't thinking.

Note: The word F shall be banned from this journal, thank you.