I've tried to browse, but I still haven't been able to come across a conclusive logic behind 13th being unlucky. Then again, if today was a bad day I would've blamed it on rather arbit double digit which follows two and is followed by eighty six more. I'm learning, fast, to not find in an object, the source of a bad deed. One must not blame it on the sunshine and should not go anywhere close to a blame game with the moonlight. (Familiar). It's been a good Saturday and a good eight hours are left for the routine bit of lethargy to strike. More of power naps nearly.

So I had a chunk of really good chocolate cake and gulped down the last bit with a wine glass filled with water. Fancy things and the associated happiness! Studied Chaucer for a good two hours. I was enlightened for I was completely unaware that the Story of King Midas had more than one version. I hate it when they're right about the limitless sea of knowledge. I refuse to believe there's not an end to it. Only if body types and intelligence levels was a universal concept, inferiority and superiority complexes would be redundant. Wishful thinking at its best.

I can't drive. It's a fact. But I owe the success of today to the fact that I drove the twin kart and crashed the little sister for fun. Suddenly, I feel lame for saying "leetle beatle" repeatedly. It must've required a great deal of tolerance for the listeners to smirk at the superficial humor. I could hammer it out maybe.

There's something inherent in procrastination that makes it a fad. I won't call it a quality even though I share it with every alternate sane mind on the cosmic space of earth. The amount of shit awaiting you in the end seems worth nothing. To experience task fulfillment, with respect to both quality and quantity,without whining about the rigidity of time and completely ignoring the its set structure, would be a strange feeling. Don't you think. I'd need someone to edit this.

The number of people who've compared Shah Rukh Khan to unpleasant symbols is alarming. Sudden doom? I don't need any food for my EQ at the moment. He's been quite an ace and I'd just settle at that. Mindless debating on the rick bloke won't help me get hash brownies for free.

Time to get back to the research on the overt affection the courtier lay on his beloved. He wrote and provided evidence which lasted over a century. We're the ones leading a tough life. Red hearts, endless schemes for carefree communication, matching the age to the number of presents on a birthday. It sure takes a lot more than the iambic pentameter.

Please don't remember this post as written on the day before Valentines. Here's not wishing you Happy Valentines Day.

Happy 13th. Test your luck.