Game Project Update: Emotions Run High

I got bored.

Don’t worry, I wasn’t thinking about giving up this project. In fact, now that Dr. Visor approves it as my new thesis project I can’t afford to give it up, lest the wrath of my conscience destroys me with nightmares.

Damn me if I haven’t been reading too many Steve Jackson’s books.

The developments on this project are quite few sadly, due the busy-ness of beginning a new semester. I had planned on going to the resource website to download the latest stuff, and then edit them. Some of these new resources don’t need edits, just planning where to put them.



These would be great for that castle siege in Act 1.

Hah, the castle siege scene! Players won’t have time to stop and help the soldiers. I’m going to need to get rid of one soldier and replace it with a monster the soldier’s fighting against. It’’s be a lot of work, since I’m using up to 3 different types of monsters but I really, really wanted a massive siege.

Got some more stuff for the more dramatic sprite edits. But this one is a unique edit, nobody else has it (nobody in GamingW that is). This is a testing pose for the final battle in Act 1. I don’t mind putting this up as a spoiler cum teaser because I’ve got a far better pose for the Great Evil Boss in Act 4 final battle.

Each class of magic has its own casting effect. Ice magic would have sparkles and icicle-blue imagery while the metallic magic is more subtle but instantaneous (metallic magic = bombs, bombs, BOMBS!). This down here is a prologue scene. I’m not really sure if I should include it though and in which chapter.



”By the Angels, how could you... why?”

I’m not a really good GIF animator (hehehehe) but I hope you get the idea. Dark and evil magic uses a purplish-black glow, to highlight that the magic doesn’t always expose its nature until it oozes out of the bad guy.

Also to be reminded, as a continuation from my last game project update, I’ve finalized the basic outline that I had planned for my protagonist main magical scene. It’s not as good as some of my older magic circles but that was done intentionally.

In the scene I’m planning, Keea had to cast her high-level spell in a hurry and the circle isn’t perfect, and her comrades to aid her in combining energies would either be wounded or missing. The shape isn’t a full circle either; in thaumaturgy, this is an aggressive circle.


Very nice. Background please!

I’m going to take a little bit more cleaning up to do before I impose this art into a picture and an animated charaset; thus my biggest graphic project yet. But anything to stall the coding, riiiiiiiiight?

Don’t worry about the coding though; I’m saving the best for last.

Sort of.

As you can see, the graphics I’ve selected are mostly fighting or casting scene and then some. In the heat of the battle, the drama has to be greater, thus new effects and customized graphics come into play.

Because I don’t want to be something like, oh wow, super tension rising and got to go do something, rescue somebody or stop that bad guy and I’m running across dangerous obstacles, war zones, but what the heck? I had to stop and do a crossword puzzle.

Night Brings Weird Messages

I’m not really into dreams and dream interpretations. Yeah, sure I’m really into magical theories and practises but my interest is mostly academic and for pleasure. Sorry, but when it comes to making serious dream study and possible connections with the metaphysical plane, I stand next to Freud.

So when the little girl Sharlinie kidnapping episode continues with the family actually hiring bomohs (witch doctors) to crack coconuts and free white birds, I felt more pity than disgust. It’s a hopeless task to go to witch doctors, but the family is desperate, just as desperate as the police force trying to locate her.

For me it’s prayers, not bomohs, that should be turned to in bringing hope to counter distress. Unless these bomohs work for free and they are actually proven to be successful, it’s best not to revert to them. The bomoh’s prediction that Sharlinie would be found in a week is bulls**t, in my opinion.

Magic, spells and folk practise is all good in checking the weather or if the paddy fields brings best harvest. But when a child’s life is at stake, for God’s sake, at least let it be done privately instead of giving them quacks free advertising. False hopes, false rumours, and when the deed doesn’t turn out the way it goes, the witch doctor still gets paid.

Family still get bumped.

Enough of the possibly devastating repeat of the tragic Nurin case. As Ron Weasley once interpreted Harry Potter’s tea cup as ‘going to suffer but be very happy’, here’s something I have that means completely nothing.

A Dream Book.

Yup, just as the title says.

I wasn’t always anti-prophetic dreams. In my younger years, I was a hell of a believer. I planned my days using horoscopes and toss pennies into wishing fountains. I arranged my bedroom furniture by feng-shui. What washed-coloured clothes I have are arranged to be worn on specific days.

By God was I ever a mystic fa**ot.

After I outgrew my magic markers, the souvenirs of those days had been reduced to just this little piggy from the book market. It was MySis’s friend’s book who, upon moving to overseas, didn’t know who to dump it to so I adopted it from the rubbish bin.

It’s basically a dictionary of sorts. You choose the prominent subjects on what you’ve dreamt before and basically connect the dots. Let’s see about this dream I had last week.

I was on the second floor at Giant Kelana Jaya hypermarket; I recognize the place well. There were other people there. Busy people, all rushing but they all seem to move in the same one direction. I was standing, or at least, walking very slowly.

I push pass the crowds and enter the market proper but the aisles were empty. Not product empty - there were items for sale - just nobody was around. Which is really odd because as I looked back, the crowd was full and moving but nobody had entered after me.

But then a guy wearing all black appeared from the crowd and walked towards me. I couldn’t see face, or rather I don’t remember his face but he was very tall and had black hair. I think he was stalking me as I started to run away really fast. I took a long route toward the produce section.

Looking back, I saw the dark guy also running toward me. He had long strides. I remembered feeling scared. I saw a stick and grabbed it (a broom? A mop?) and swung it at the dark guy. It hit his head and he fell back, staggering.

I guest I should have just ran off but I used the stick to fight him again but he ducked and grabbed my wrist so quickly that I dropped the stick. He pulled at the back of my neck and pushed me to the floor. I fell down. I thought he was going to hurt me and that’s when I knew that it was a dream.

Then I heard a series of loud bangs, like New Year’s fireworks had burst too close, and the area was filled with white smoke. The dark guy covered me on the floor with his body or maybe he dropped a big blanket over me. That’s when I began to think that he was protecting me. It was the way his arms were placed on both my sides.

When the bangs stopped, the guy pushed himself away from me. It was still smoky everywhere. I turned over and looked at him. This is when the memory of the dream was hazy. I think he said something and I answered. Then he gave me his large black coat and told me to go somewhere safe. And he got up and left, ran off.

I don’t know what caused this dream, but it might be the TV series Numbers DVD I watched that afternoon. Much of the stuff here are hazy, as dreams evaporates come daylight. But for the curiosity, let’s look into the Dream Book.


Staring with...

Market: Dreaming of an outdoor market in which all sorts of foodstuffs are temptingly displayed is an omen of prosperity, but if the food is wilted or otherwise spoiled, it predicts hard times.

I was running for my life. I didn’t stop to check the expiry date on the products.

Crowd: It is a portent of profitable new associations to dream of being in an orderly or good-natured crowd. To be in a crowd that is reading bulletins of war outside a newspaper office predicts a business victory that will be unexpected.

Didn’t say anything about a crowd that’s ignoring me. I can’t find the dream meaning for ‘stick’ so I try adding ‘broom’ and ‘mop’ together.

Broom: To see a broom means that thrift and better luck will come to you in the near future, if the broom is new. If the broom is an old one, you will lose in the stockmarket. If a woman loses a broom she will be a cross wife and a poor housekeeper.

Mop: Using a clean new mop in a dream foretells favourable comment on some of your work. Seeing an old and dirty mop in a pail of filthy water is a warning not to repeat evil rumours that you hear.

Neither of those two makes any sense.

Man: To dream of man in the abstract is a warning against too much brain work. For a woman to dream of a man foretells a meeting of an interesting person who will be a platonic friend.

Okaaaaaay... How bout...?

Assault: Grave danger is predicted by dreaming of an assault being made on a woman. If a man is the victim, the augury is of disquieting news. If you are the victim, there will be a serious altercation in your household.

Oh gee, I’m doomed.

Noise: If in a dream one hears noises that do not readily lend themselves to any particular happening, the portent is having to meet bills of long standing.

Actually, I don’t need a dream to remind me of that.

Smoke: To dream of smelling smoke and not know where it was coming from augurs worry for a long period. To see smoke coming from a fire or a chimney is a sign of increased income.

Sounds like my early 2008 is grim.

Coat: If you dream of putting a coat on a hanger in a closet, you will receive the approval of someone whose opinion you value highly. To wear a ragged coat in a dream is a portent of riches and easy living. To help someone put on a coat is a sign of lending money to a friend; but if another helps you put on a coat, you will have to borrow money. To loose a coat foretells that your feelings will be hurt by someone you admire. To throw away a coat is an omen of the loss of a friend; but to give one away predicts making new friends.

Never thought coats are so important for one’s future.

That’s as much as I can gather. No keywords like ‘rescue’ or ‘protect’ or ‘bombs’. Put the subjects together and I get a nonsensical nonsense since none was sensed save it.

I’m going to be prosperous and gain new business-friendly acquaintances (mostly likely ignoring me). But then a person who wants to be my friend shows up but he/she will have ulterior motives. Sometime later, I’m going to lose something I’ve invested in which results in a major potentially risky adjustment. I’ll still have to pay for outcome and I’ll be worrying about it for a very long time, in which I’ll have to borrow money.

...

To Nuffnang or To Not Nuffnang?

Okay, there was one difference to my previous blog entry. It turns out that I didn’t have Java class yesterday’s Thursday after all. Lec. Java had been trying to contact me but she used the old house phone number, which I’ve already discontinued ages and ages ago.

Luckily for me, she sought me out, pacing like a restless kitty outside the PC Lab (some idiot administrator locked it, or maybe this door knob is just as buggy as the next one). Aaah, bust. I said sorry, we chatted, she mentioned Dr. Visor is looking for me (eeep!), made plans for next week’s class and that I’ll contact the other 2 students ASAP.

Yes, only 2 other students besides me. Like I said, Multimedia majors are a small clique.

Being at this is ‘malam Jumaat’ (the night before Friday), nobody is at my home and I didn’t want to stay home alone and the roads would be too packed to drive to Ikano Power Centre, I stayed at school for a few more hours, just long enough for the part-time students to crash into the PC Labs.

Unlike fresh-faced full time students, the male of this side of the education are older, rowdier and have hands that never stray far from below their belts, if you know what I mean.

No, that one is not what I mean.

Any sane woman would prefer homicidal baby nephews to suspicious male groups that form after 7pm, even if the male group is completely exposed in a reception hall under blazing florescent lights. Or maybe I’m just paranoid. Just because I’m paranoid doesn’t mean someone isn’t trying to grab at me in roads after dark.

Bleh.

But if I had stayed longer, in a workstation with PC access, maybe I would have finally reached a proper decision on something that had been bugging me since last month. You see, before I started blogging, I made a policy not to post ads on my blog. Not only would this be distracting, it also takes more time to load the pages (and we all know the notoriety of ‘school’ and ‘slow PCs’).

In short, I just don’t like ads in my space.

My personal space. If this had been a website project for school, I’ll drop in ads like there’s no tomorrow, if it’ll get me $ or As. And I don’t post as often as many Nuffnang’d bloggers (you know who you are), namely, everyday postings. Increased entrys = increased traffic. There’s no point in adding unsightly ads if traffic doesn’t pay for it.

That’s how my older blog fell to pieces. More concerns for ads and traffic than the subject matters. My own thoughts. I didn’t want a repeat of the last time, even though my blog died years ago, long before Nuffnang came online.

On the other hand, I get money. I’m an undergraduate with -$100 in her purse. I sneak notepads into bookstores and copy chapters from new books. All my clothes are either Brand’s Outlet or Hypermarket’s Outlet or (horrors!) Mak’s Outlet. I spend no money on make-up or shoes or even internet connection. I save every 5 cents I can pouch in, even if those 5 cents was found on the ground. In the mud.

I even taught myself how to cook.

Hehehehe, okay I’m still very much better off than most kids and I do thank God for that. I don’t need much money to really keep in working or studying but it’ll helps if I don’t have to ask my pair of sour-faces for even the smallest monetary dependency. Every morning when I wake up, it’s in the bedroom with furniture that they brought and in sheets washed with water which bills were paid by them.

Them and their EPF. Dickens’s Ebenezer Scrooge got nothing on my parents.

So in the heart of deciding to Nuffnang or not to Nuffnang, I really wanted something in the post that’s neither a bill nor a pizza discount voucher (though we also get wedding invitations, magazines, loan shark ads, even underwear once). The sad secret which I shall divulge, since nobody here knows who I am, is that I’m really, really running out of money.

My next semester bill is coming up and I haven’t the heart to ask for $3000 fee. Yet. I know the plight of parental responsibility and such but I’m getting old. The responsibility should be reversed. Government ruling says that parents are obligatory to support their children until they reach age 21 and I’m years past that. I respect them as individuals but as parents... it would help if they don’t keep looking at me as if I’m ugly oversized furniture they can’t get rid of.

So as I’m getting this blog a Nuffnang advertising, alongside to join various other popular blogging communities. It’s not much, there’s no real gain by it and the results would fluctuate. But by damn, I’m going to start paying for my own petrol money one way or another.

Sikit-sikit, lama-lama jadi bukit. Once I get an account big enough to earn my own internet connection, maybe I won’t have to stay back school for so long, then walk to my parked car in the dark night.

Every Thurday. Every Freaking Thursday.

According to the new scheduling system that caters to part-time student - me being one of the only full time student so I have to adher to their preferences – Thursdays will be my night class days.

When I woke up at 6am, fully refeshed from a good night’s sleep and ready for activity, I wondered maybe I should just stay at home until the late afternoon, say 4pm, seeing that I didn’t really feel like sitting down in the PC lab for an entire day.

Bang! Crash!
*hiss* MeeeeeeeeeooooOOOOWWWW! *growl*
Waaaa- *hiccup* -aaaaaaah!

Looks like baby nephew’s coming over today. That’s my cue to depart.

7am: Bathed and ready to go!
7:10am: Help Mak vaccum broken glass from kitchen.
7:20am: Pry headscraf from BabyNabil’s naugthy fingers.
7:25am: Clean strawberry jam smudges from headscraf.
7:35am: Failed, changed headscraf. Now I’m ready to go.
7:50am: Stuck in Damansara Toll traffic jam.
8:10am: Offically decided that I hate all forms of jams.
8:20am: Finally arrived at school. Mentally kick self for forgetting to bring Java textbook.
8:25am: Waiting outside school workstation along with 5 other early bird students, most comprises of new students.
8:30am: Listen vaguely to PakGuard’s repeated jokes. He tells the same thing every day to impress various new students..
8:35am: Enter school workstation and signing into the network.
8:40am: Downloading Mystery in London from Reflexive Arcade.
8:45am: Upload photos in Photobucket.com (Imageshack.us had been firewalled in all school PCs).
9:00am: Post Taco Bake entry in Blogspot. Finished downloading Mystery in London game.
9:30am: Check all favourites bloggers.
10:40am: Post I Love to Hate my Lecturer entry in Blogspot.
10:00am: Check Project Petaling Street website. Ping blog’s entries.
10:30am: Check Gmail. Received Santana ft. Chad Kroeger mp3 music from little brother, Genius (he’s in Malaya University, studying Electronic Engineering).
10:35am: Exit school network and signing-in again (there’s a two hour limit. You just sign-in the same PC again).
11:00am: Open Gmail again and send 2 sci-fi themed desktop-quality pictures to Genius as a thank you.
11:50pm: Check blog for comments.
12:30pm: Exit school network and signing-in again.
12:35pm: Check into GamingW.net forums.
12:45pm: Check into Mediafire.com and remove the map file from file server. Upload Santana mp3 in Mediafire.
13:10am: Did some neck exercise. Declined a friend’s invitation to McD lunch on excuse of doing homework (actually, no money-lah!).
13:15pm: Bored. Actually doing homework for a change.
13:50pm: Check blog for comments again.
2:00pm: Check Google for open source Java applet codings.
2:25pm: Stop and exit workstation for mid-afternoon prayers.
2:55pm: Check to see if PC Lab have classes. None. Signing into lab network (they don’t have time limits).
3:05pm: Downloading 3 new mp3s (Yay! Insecured firewall!).
3:30pm: Start on thesis project chapter 1 report; alternately check for open source Java applet codings.
4:10pm: Sign out of lab network because of immensely slow internet. Now officially hating bandwidth jam.
4:20pm: Reach parked car. Late afternoon is good time to park car in No Parking Zone.
4:25pm: Signing back into PC Lab network again.
4:45pm: Write third, untitled blog entry.
5:30(?)pm: Stop for late afternoon prayers.
5:55(?)pm: Check into Lab 3 for MP class.
6.00(?)pm: Joustle for good, unbroken, non-blurry, fast working PC with part-time students.
6:15(?)pm: Ended up getting bad PC anyway.
6:30(?)pm: Lec. Java comes in and shooed the strangglers out.
6:35(?)pm: Changed PCs.
6:45(?)pm: Reviewing last week’s chapters.
7:00(?)pm: Praying, devoutly praying, not to be chosen to showcase last week’s exercise.
7:05(?)pm: Getting to present answers to last week’s exercise anyway.
7:10(?)pm: Lec. Java presents correct answers to last week’s exercise.
7:30(?)pm: Stop for evening prayers (thank God!).
7:50(?)pm: Starting chapters on Java Graphics and GUI.
8:35(?)pm: Given this week’s exercise to take home.
9:45(?)pm: Full dark. Get to car parked in No Parking Zone safely.
10:00(?)pm: Reach home safetly, bathe and crash into bed.
11:00(?)pm: Late-night snack. Tip-toe around house not to wake up parents.
11:30(?)pm: Read a bit of fiction books before finally falling asleep.

Yup, a completely full day. Alamak...

I Love to Hate My Lecturers

I’m not a slow learner; I just don’t like to pay attention to people in suits. I have this primary school childhood fear of teachers. Teachers being angry, teacher embarrassing students in front of other students, students ganging up to bully the scolded student during recess...

In short, I was hoping for distance learning after secondary school, preferably while I travel. But my parents will have none of that, as they’re the ones paying for my tertiary education. They’ve learned their lesson of letting their children run wild with my older brother, Arsenal, who came home from USA no richer than $100,000. In debt.

Since my personality is a lot like my older brother, I ended up never even stepping foot out of PJ after SPM for my degree. And it was straight to degree too, no diploma. I had wanted diploma first, then get a little bit of job experience, then go for degree.

But again, overruled. Denied. Zippo.

I kind of understood all that. Parents always wanted the very best for their kids, whether the kids wanted to or not. This is to ensure bragging rights in their old age, trying to impress other parents about ‘oh-my-son-is-a-lawyer’ or ‘hey-my-daughter-drives-a-Porsche’ or ‘why-don’t-your-daughter-meet-my-son-and-join-their-bank-account-so-they-can-send-more-money-to-us-after-they-get-married?’.

I hate high expectations. I’m a simple girl. I don’t want a super-job that gets me super-money. I can only drive one car at a time, sleep under one roof at night and eat only 3 meals a day. That’s the downside of big families who need big support in their old age. Big expectations.

That’s why I’m thankful to finally becoming a majoring student this year. I have 3 lecturers and a supervisor now, all encompassing the major subjects and the thesis project part01. Their experience with students on the threshold of last university days prior to the rat-race reality encourages me to give them more respect than I do to my parents.

My ED lecturer is whom I shall call Lec. Whoops. This is because something always have to go wrong before she teaches, either PC breakdown, projector image blurry or the buggy classroom door knob getting locked - with all of us still in it. Being resourceful, she actually gave us a pop-quiz while the security guards look for the keys.

My VR lecturer is whom I shall call Lec-Xercise. She always seemed to be out of breath before coming to class for some reason. I later realized that she had just become Head of the Multimedia department (her first time and she didn’t asked for it) and that she didn’t like that the VR classroom is too damned far away from her office.

My MP lecturer is whom I shall call Lec. Java. It’s not just because she’s teaching advanced Java but it’s from her constant unflagging energy. For God’s sake, the class is at 6pm-9pm and she’s ready to get us do PC-lab tests and large coding discussions while everyone else is halfway to Zzz-land.

Lec-Xercise could learn a thing or two from Lec. Java, if Lec-Xercise could keep up with her and if Lec. Java could stop talking long enough to hear her.

And last but not least... Dr. Visor. He’s my new supervisor for this semester. For some reason, he got shackled with me even though he’s from Networking department. Maybe there’s a system here I didn’t know about. My last Supervisor and her superior-in-terror, Super-supervisor, was from Software Engineering.

Anyway, seeing that the man is a phD. I was scared that he might have expectations (and you know I hate high expectations). He’s in Networking and I want to propose building a game software. Would he want it online? Can I find an online system in time? Would he even accept a game system? Would he prefer I do something more mundane, like a forum community? I support open-source but does he approve?

Naturally, I was stuttering by the time I got my teaspoon of courage outside the department offices. I kept asking the receptionist for Safian or Sifuan instead of Sufian. Unable to wait for him to open the glass door, I got in through as another student was coming out.

There were two other students in the reception room. Five minutes later, there were only two of us. Unable to stop pacing, I decided to look for his office myself and asked a passing lecturer for his office (again, I stutter; I just don’t know why).

She actually looked amused. Then she pointed to the student behind me.

Oh crap.

Dr. Visor was actually waiting for me, nicely sitting there for the last 5 minutes, watching me pace around like a hungry puppy. I freaking thought he was a student, really. He was wearing plain white shirt and jet-black pants, standard uniform for all students from the Faculty of Hospitality and Tourism Management.

If I hadn’t been so nervous, I would have noticed; no need for FHTM students to hang around inside the FIT department.

Both lecturers had a good laugh as I really wish I could sink into the floor at that moment (I just have to make do with covering my red face with my textbook). At least it wasn’t like my primary school teachers; this was good clean embarrassment.

Least to say, the rest of the meeting went okay. He approved of the game system, taught me how to write the first chapter and encourages me to contact him once a week. He didn’t ask for online systems or additional programming. I can achieve those goals.

However, this doesn’t mean I’ll thank him for that trick. My next new blog will be about distance learning.

Recipe: Taco Bake with Corn Chips

This is a pretty easy recipe to make and doesn’t take an hour to cook; but there’s a whole lot of activity going on. You got to fry the meat, boil the pasta and then bake the casserole. But I tell ya it’s delicious! If you’re on a diet, stay away from this picture-filled message.

This is a warning; you’ll gain kilograms while you’re reading this.

Ingredients:
1 whole large onion, finely chopped
A few cloves of garlic, also chopped
Some paprika powder or chili powder (optional)
1 bottle of salsa
1 brick of cheddar cheese, shredded
Some Sunglo sour cream (I got mine at Giant hypermarket)
1 packet of Ramly brand frozen minced meat (400grams, beef or chicken)
1 packet of Old El Paso Taco Seasoning mix (found at Giant hypermarket or Cold Storage)
1 Kraft’s Deluxe Macaroni n’ Cheese dinner (bought at Cold Storage)
1 medium-sized bag of Chachos corn chips

*Note: make sure the frozen minced meat had defrosted into room temperature; otherwise you’ll get meat lumps when you fry ‘em.


Heat a pot of water until it boils. Then add the macaroni pasta as this one takes the longest to cook.


Fry those chopped onions and garlic until soft and fragrant, then add the minced meat.


When the meat is half cooked, add in the Old El Paso Taco Seasoning mix. Keep frying until the meat is cooked, then take it off the heat and let it cool in the wok.
*Note: You can also add a little bit of chili powder or paprika powder as well to make it spicier.


The pasta would have been cooked right about then. It should be white and soft but firm, not mushy because otherwise they’ll break to pieces after baking.
*Note: Now you should preheat your microwave oven to 180’Celcius to get ready for baking.


Drain the pasta and while still steaming, pour ‘em into a mixing bowl. Add all the Kraft’s cheese sauce and about a cup of the sour cream.


After mixing them well, add ONLY HALF (yes, just half) of the macaroni mix into a casserole dish. Then add a layer of the spicy minced meat. Using ONLY HALF of the shredded cheddar cheese, add a layer of it OVER that meat layer.


Add all the remaining macaroni mix over all that. Add a thin layer of salsa sauce over the casserole for taste. With the remaining shredded cheese, divide it into HALF and use just one half to spread a layer over the casserole.


Bake the casserole for just 15 minutes. Add the rest of the cheddar cheese, then bake a little while longer for only 5 minutes.


You can lick the cheesy mixing spoon while you wait. Mm-mmm...


Once done, crush the Chachos corn chips and spread ‘em all over the casserole.

Now eaaaaaaaaaaaaattt!! This recipe feeds 6 people; it’s very filling. I really wish you could smell the spicy taco mince meat cos it's really great. The touch of the salsa sauce alongside the saltiness of the cheese sauce melting on your mouth is just soooooo good. Chewy macaroni pasta and crunchy corn chips-, not saying anything more.

My folks always have this dish with a side of fresh, tossed salad drenched in thousand-island sauce. Other having a nutritional, balanced diet (Mak’s a food pyramid freak), the mix of tomatoes and lettuce leaves just seem to work superbly, sort-of like, it refreshes your taste buds as you eat.

Why am I writing this? Because I’ve decided that it was absolutely futile to stick to my New Year’s Resolution, that’s why.

Spread the cheesy love...