Important ANNOUNCEMENT. Not really.

Moved the Toilet to Tumblr.

Newly Renovated is over at this wing:


Tah-daaah!

DramaTweets

    For a Good Cause...


    Yeah, right, and pigs fly...



    A while back, I found PETA2's Think About It!campaign. Basically, it talks about how pigs don't get the same treatment as dogs do, which is right, of course. Pigs suffer because of the difference, as well.

    I've learned from the campaign that pigs are the smartest animals next to the primates. (They're as smart as three year-old kids!)

    In the Philippines, it's tradition to serve roasted pig. Here, it's called Lechon. It's almost always served during parties, and it is expected to be on the table during fiestas. I find myself one of the few who find lechon disgusting. (The others are the anorexics, which probably doesn't count seeing as they never eat anything, I think.)

    People in my family know that I've never eaten Lechon ever since I was four because once upon a time, I saw how they killed pigs in our backyard. When pigs squeal, doesn't it sound like a baby crying? This is probably one of the many traumas I've developed because of my family. How I grew up to be generally normal, I will never know. Lol.

    Lechon is definitely one of the many traditions Filipinos can live without. It's horrible that pigs get killed and it's even more horrible that they get killed in that manner. If I'm morbid, as what people say, what do I call them? Besides, it keeps those with high blood pressure alive a bit longer. (Strange how, in parties, those suffering from it are the first to fight their way to the Lechon.)

    Yeah, it's a given that pigs can't fly but just because they don't "woof" doesn't mean they get to be treated differently than dogs.



    There are more oinky stuff you can learn at Peta2. Just click on the banner below to get there:

    Think About It!





    They've got this quiz on dog and pig traits, too:
    Woof or Oink? Winner's Banner
    Click here to find out if you're as smart as I am.

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    A Poem

    Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    By Robert Frost




    Whose woods these are I think I know.
    His house is in the village, though;
    He will not see me stopping here
    To watch his woods fill up with snow.



    My little horse must think it queer
    To stop without a farmhouse near
    Between the woods and frozen lake
    The darkest evening of the year.

    He gives his harness bells a shake
    To ask if there's some mistake.
    The only other sound's the sweep
    Of easy wind and downy flake.

    The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
    But I have promises to keep,
    And miles to go before I sleep,
    And miles to go before I sleep.



    The DramaQueen has been stealing this many souls:

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    The author shall not be held responsible for any scrunched foreheads
    and raised eyebrows brought about by reading this blog.

    You got yourself into this mess, Bub


    Your Resident DramaQueen would like to give props to: