I had a laid back delightful night of cakes, conversation, and quirks with Pipit and Tim. I've written quite a bit about Pipit so I'm going to zoom in to Tim.
Tim. Crazy pudgy child prodigy. Perfected his very own complex but logical system of writing. Learned PHP all by himself. Stirred a triangle of chocolate Toblerone into his Mandarin Orange Soda. Smuggled me in The Spectrum Bodega. Nothing abominable happened, so kindly breathe easy everbody.
Would he so mind if I say here that he smuggled me in his lifesphere, past his complicated Doubt and Suspicion and Inscrutability Systems? I think so. He's terribly shy. Which makes him blush an alarming Del Monte Tomato Sauce red. Which makes him feel ultra self-conscious. Which makes him cackle uncontrollably. Which is 50 percent lethal-50 percent life-extending for him. Whatever. The point is, he would mind. Though I won't, that he would. Blog ko kaya 'to!
Remember what Pipit said about us being the cakes that we ordered, Tim? She's the Strawberry Mouse Cake (ekratan); I'm the Pistacchio Sans Rival (mahirap ispellingin) and, you're the Banana Cream Pie (sexually suggestive.) Makes sense, di ba? Whatever that means. Heart communication does the trick.
Basta next time, I won't be breaking the rules on your account. Being contraband feels exciting and sinful and grabe, but the scorch wears off faster than I could say "Wait!"
*Learn more about Tim at timothythegray.com; you might want to buy something he happens to be selling.
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