Shakespeare once said, "Only thing-eth worse-th than having a baby lizard-eth in your room-eth, is not knowing where the baby lizard went-eth."
This will make a lot of sense. Later. Maybe.
This will make a lot of sense. Later. Maybe.
I was halfway through my trigonometry exercise when I remembered I had blogging to do. I decided I had studied enough for today (5 questions) so here I am.
In all honesty, I'm in a pretty bad mood, but writing soothes the heart, and what not, so let's make the pain go away by talking about happy things. Yes, the baby lizard.
Ah, baby lizards.
I was entering my room a few minutes ago, completely unaware of the dangers that were waiting for me right in the lap of Satan. I opened my door, and just then, with my eagle/hawk-like vision (ignore the fact that I'm myopic) I spotted it; my doom. A baby lizard perched on the edge of my door. The first thought that came to my mind was not I'm going to blog about this like one would've naturally thought. It was I'm probably going to die. I didn't though, (surprisingly) and I handled the matter in a very mature and brave manner. I let out a squeal, sort of like a blood curdling scream, but in a whisper, since I didn't want to wake my family up. I know, I know. My heart is full of love for others even in the middle of catastrophes. But we are deviating from the point. I went into my room anyway, avoiding any contact with the door. I swiftly turned around to look at that tiny lizard, with a meet your maker you tiny animal!!!!! sort of look, but it had disappeared.
In a nutshell, there's a baby lizard somewhere in my room, but I have no idea where.
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