Smeared all over the room.
SIT AT RECEPTION AND DO NOTHING FOR AN HOUR.
Abie was clearing out her bag because her salad bowl literally exploded.
She takes out her deodorant and we watch as two tomato seeds oozed their way down it.
Abie pulled an upset face, whether this was because she had to clean up the mess the salad made in her bag or because she knew she couldn't eat the yummy bits of it (i.e. the tomatoes), I'll never know.
I was sitting back down in the (not so) comfy chair at reception when BAM. I whacked my head right off of the cabinet behind me.
You know it looked as though it was a serious injury when Abie made this face:
Also, I swear Sonic the hedgehog was stalking me...
Sorry, I mean Sam. She dyed her hair blue.
It suits her!
She suits every hair colour...
I refer to her as the Aberdonian version of
Hayley Williams because of that.
I saw her everywhere. She was clearly stalking me, using her super-speed to run from one side of the corridor to the other.
Seriously, I swear I bumped into her around seven times in the space of fifty five minutes. Not that it's a bad thing!
Abie was given a note to take to Ms Haye, so up to second floor we went... only problem?
We're not great at geography.
We didn't know which room was hers.
So she knocked on a door. Any door. Too bad she chose the one door which had a sign saying "DO NOT DISTURB - NAB" on it.
Mrs Miles comes storming out of the classroom, points angrily at the sign and says:
MRS MILES: Look... LOOOK! *points several times to sign*I thought she was away to snatch the sign off of the door and attach the sign to Abie's forehead.
Abie was brave on Tuesday, she attempted to play WWE on PS2 with the boys...
She chose this guy:
Although it looks like these two are
homosexual wrestlers that are about to
start "shlammin'" on stage.
I didn't know that Abie had chose Rey Mysterio at this point though:
ME: Which one are you Abie?
KYLE: The one on the floor.The fight wasn't over that quickly though... apparently, the fight lasted half an hour.
Nae messing with Abie!!
Tired of chilling out in the common room (it seriously stinks in there now), Kelly, Megan and I resorted to sitting down outside the library.
MRS MURRAY: Are you homeless?
MEGAN: Yes... *holds out hands in an Oliver fashion*
MRS MURRAY: Is the common room still locked?
KELLY: No, we just don't like it in there.
MEGAN: That and my testicle still hurts from las... *realises what she's saying* Did I just say that?
ME: Don't worry.... she's gone.Megan was playing fooseball with Linzie. Linzie hit her in the groin with one of the fooseball poles. Megan was so badly hurt, a lump grew.... which she fondly refers to as her testicle.
Megan wrote a lovely wee note for me at the start of this period.
"Just a note to say hi and I'm missing you".Sorry... All this happened on a Tuesday, and I'm writing it on the following Monday...
Add the fact that this little guy could
give me a run for my money in the memory
department is making it incredibly difficult
to write this post.
I remember there was something about dogs.
Oh yeah! Kelly was telling me what her dogs would be called if she ever got them...
Windixie and Five-eat
God. It's like Kati and her whacked out baby names all over again!
Just this time... It's with dogs...
They have to put up with a whole load of
our crap huh?
You just know this guy is wanting nothing
more than to bite his owner's ass.
Megan was also telling the class that her dog, Buddy, keels over if she "shoots" him.
Don't you be calling the RSPCA. We're talking finger-guns.
Kelly didn't quite grasp that:
KELLY: Why would you shoot your dog?
ME: It isn't real guns. It's just a trick.
KELLY: Ohhhh!When she wasn't getting confused over dog tricks, she was stroking her face with a knitted Christmas tree
Yeah. You read right.
She did the exact same last year with a feather. You know what they say, you can't teach old dogs new tricks
This extended metaphor was brought to you by
Which is exactly what I would say if the extended
metaphor was brought to you by Pedigree.
Kelly got a damn song in my head too...
Actually, it's not even a song, just one line.
Actually, it's not even a song, just one line.
*clears throat and adopts the best "baby Daddy" accent possible*
"Let's get it onnnnnnnnn"I told Sara this was in my head, to which she replied:
SARA: Our blazers?We were watching a film in English.
Or, at least, it would be yay... if only we were watching something other than a biopic about severely depressed poet Sylvia Plath.
By the end of the movie (the part where Sylvia Plath, played by Gwenyth Paltrow, commits suicide) our class had turned into emotional wrecks.
MS STRUTHERS: Very cheery, isn't it?
DOUGAL: Not really.I fancied joining Sylvia in that oven... due to the terrible quality of film-making that is. Daniel Craig was the saving grace in an otherwise shockingly bad depiction of the poet's tragic life.
Sorry Sara. Sorry Dougal. I really hate that film.
In fact, I had so little sympathy for Paltrow's character, that when she was preparing butter on bread as a meal for the children so they wouldn't starve after she died, my inner monologue honestly sounded like this:
"How much butter is she putting on that loaf of bread? She's going to give her kids a heart-attack!"*shakes head* And that shouldn't be the viewers priorities in a scene such as that!
Ms Struthers felt guilty about making us watch that on the last day of school, so she let us go early. What a legend that woman is.
I pulled out my Northern Lights Festival flyer and showed Emma that D.O.D. was playing... who's D.O.D? Good question. Better question? Who isn't D.O.D.
D.O.D is NOT my Psychology teacher from last year (unless, due to some miracle, he turned out to be a DJ.
A pretty awesome one at that.
That is NOT Dod.
There was a confusing conversation about Gelli Baff on the way home from Grammar.
ANDREW: Gelli baff?
SARA: Making a bath out of jelly! I mean... bath water into jelly.Andrew looks massively confused, then BOOM. Lightbulb.
ANDREW: Ohhh, Gelli Baff
ME: Let's make a bath out of jelly.... or bath flavoured jelly... ew. Maybe not.Then we saw little kids doing push ups on a hill.
Someone please, for the love of God, tell
those little ones that it's not kiddie bootcamp!