So, I got a 2 for PW. I would be totally okay with this, if it wasn't for the fact that the rest of my group got a 1. *grumbles* I knew the PI about faeces was a bad idea.

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Some pairings are just not meant to be. Be it romance, friendship, working partners or bandmates, some fellowships are just not made to exist, period. And I am as sure of this as my unmitigated hate for the inventor of cheese-flavoured ice cream. She says stop, he says go. She says yes, he says no. She says sweep it under the rug, he says throw it out the window. She says cook dinner, he says KFC delivery. She says cherry tomatoes, he says cherry tomatoes but pronounced differently. Chocolate and peanut butter works together, and so does white men and rapping, but attempting to put some people together is like trying to put urine and rice together.

That's right, nasi urine.