staying at home on a friday night with a bad case of dysmenorrhea is enough to mke even the most optimistic and bright eyed female feel sorry for herself. you are oh so bloated, in constant and unreleived pain, and you feel the label "loser" creep slowly in from your back, up your neck and plant itself atop you're pretty little head. this feeling is worthy punishment recommended to anyone's worst enemy. i guess there's nothing else left to say but "BOO". (although i am somewhat relieved that i could not go on that boracay trip. being on a nice beach and not being able to swim or even frolic in a cute little bikini (blame it on the bloated condition previously mentioned) must be torture a million times over). again, no words but BOOOOO.
And the list goes on ...
Nothing is Fiction
Anacomsie
Post Secret
I Am Kaith