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Blogger, full-time bum and proud owner of a rubber duck named Bert. Come say hi. I don't bite. Unless you're a cheesecake, then I'd recommend backing away slowly.

Sunday, 21 August 2011

You want me to google WHAT?

Whoopi has heard of a lot of things in her life,
but THAT is just taking the biscuit.


You know when people lose something , they say they've merely misplaced it? (other than their virginity of course, be honest, have you ever heard someone say that they've "misplaced" their virginity?)

Well... I've "misplaced my punctuality".

Was I late?

No... the Universe made me arrive at the required destination at a later time than previously estimated. 


Trust me to be late on the one day I needed to be in on time. We were in a new Study class on Friday because our Study teacher was Mrs McKay, who left last term. 

Why did I need to be in on time? I didn't have a clue who the study class would be supervised by or which classroom it would be held in.

The good thing was, I ran into Caitilin (who was apparently on my bus) on my way to the office, if were getting lost, we were getting lost together.

When we finally found the class, which was literally half a metre across the hall from our old Study class, it was boiling. Like attempting to study in an oven.

Mmmm... Roast, toasty succulent humans.
That's what the cannibals would say anyways.
Of course, my school isn't full of cannibals.
Nope. We draw the line at thief's and paedophiles.

No matter, we literally walked inside the classroom and right back out, we were called for a prefect meeting in the old staff-room.

Which brings us to our new segment...

  • The walls are grattified with posters that no-one would ever care about reading.
  • It's uncomfortably hot in there.
  • You're able to hear the distant calls of past conversations, a polite exchange of words between teachers who really dislike their jobs, or their pupils, or one-another.
  • It smells of rotting plaster and broken dreams
It's not a huge space, but they expect us to sit our exams in there... sure thing  bro'. We'll easily fit in a hundred kids in that space without having them sitting on each-other's laps...

*gasp* The reading says the atmospheric sarcasm levels
are presently at "Dr Gregory House" level.
That's like a 15 on the Richter scale.

The prefects dragged seats from the cold-bar to the staff-room because our school is so poor we can't afford janitors we are genuinely nice kids that just want to do everything we can for our school. 

One of them had a brown stain in the middle of it... Trust me to pick that one.

Had a sit down in the library with Jennifer following the meeting because there wasn't any point in going back to class. 

Mrs Fulton then hobbled towards us and rolled her eyes in a typical Fulton fashion when she discovered that the one person she wanted to speak to (Librarian Ms Haggarty) was busy.
MRS FULTON: Hello girls.
ME: Hello, how are you?
MRS FULTON: My foot is a bit sore - my other one.
ME: And you still came in.
MRS FULTON: *grins* I still came in. 
Our English teachers have a tendency to be a little... flaky. To say the least. Mrs Fulton seems to be the only one who comes in, whatever the weather. Actually, that's the reason she put emphasis on the fact that it was her other foot that was hurting. She fell over on her way into school because the ground was icy. She was hobbling for ages. But she still came in.

I swear the English teacher my class was supposed to have last year broke a nail and took three months off for it.
MRS FULTON: I've been taking paracetamol for the past couple of days. Yesterday, I took three paracetemol before school and I swear, I was *looks shocked, dazed, confused and delusional. In one look* and my mouth felt rubbery. 
I took the opportunity to tell her about my Paracetamol and piritin episode during the English exam.  She took it much better than I had anticipated she would, it's all about finding the right time to bring these sort of things up.
MRS FULTON: But you did quite w...
ME: *looking shocked* I got a B!
MRS FULTON: Well... Maybe we should do that more often then!
ME: Did anyone know that you were zonked out on Paracetamol? 
MRS FULTON: The scary thing was that they didn't! 
I can't imagine how Mrs Fulton would act when stoned on paracetamol...


Maybe that's for the best.


The collage of boobs in the common room has grown significantly.

As a writer (am I allowed to call myself that without sounding pretentious and insanely self-absorbed?) it's kind of my duty to observe human behavior and comment on it.

So what did I notice about behavior in regards to the "collage"?

The males sat facing the collage of boobs straight on.

The females sat with their backs to the collage.

Obviously, there was a couple of exceptions, but for the vast majority, this was the seating plan. 

I preferred the magazine cut out, a picture of Dawn French with the caption "Would you?"

Going to emphasise that ""Would you?" was the genuine caption.

Lucas had his concerns about our new additions to the common room...
LUCAS: I think we should take that down... What happens if Mrs Murray sees it, comes in to tell us to take it down, looks up and sees that *gestures to the collage of boobs*.
We all had a laugh at that mental image. Mrs Murray would go absolutely ballistic. 

Other than the pornography and crude captions, we all had some good conversations about music and movies. 

Rachel and I were trying to decide what was the best comedy out of:
The Hangover: Part II
Horrible Bosses

Sara also pulled a "silly face".
ME: That is such an attractive face...
SARA: That's how I managed to get Andrew. 
Hah! Cute.


Kelly's leaving the class.

I complained about the fact that she has to leave the class for the rest of the day. 

Three people have jumped from Standard Grade to Advanced Higher, by passing Int 2 and Higher completely.

One of my best friends, Megan, was begged to bypass every. Single. Level of Art Qualification and go straight onto the hardest level that Secondary schools are allowed to teach.

Yes, she's just that good at art.

Now, Kelly is a talented artist (with the defining quirk of producing work that looks better when viewed upside down) who was cheated out of a qualification by what can only be described as the hipster, wannabe art critics down at the SQA. 

She has never been good at the writing part of Art. The art department have never helped her with this, so she hasn't improved. This is the main reason she didn't pass Higher Art.

Now, why is it that she should be forced to drop the course that could let her do what she wants to do in college (art) just because she couldn't do the writing that no-one sat her down and helped her with? Why should she get kicked out when half of our class are crashing the course? Explain to me how it makes sense to re-take a course that puts more importance on writing than the course she was previously taking, the course that didn't have an exam that focused solely on writing at the end?! 

Look. I'm pissed off for her.

The class was more of a laugh than an fest of anger and grief over losing "one of our own". 

We began to talk about words we had difficulty spelling.
 BEV: I always had difficulty spelling "Cupboard". Cup-board? *confused face* Who made that one up?
ME: I could never spell "Restaurant". (Yes, I did manage to spell that correctly) 
KELLY: I used to have  problems spelling "Special".
Oh the irony.

There was a moment of silence, followed by laughter. 
KELLY: *Looks confused* S-P-E-C-I-A-L?
ME: Yeah, you got it! I remember Michelle's sister couldn't spell Banana's without singing "It's Banana's, B-A-N-A-N-A-N".
We all think for a second.
ME: Why can't Gwen Stefani spell Banana's?
MEGAN: Because she's an idiot. 
Mr McDonald wasn't happy over the noise levels.
MR McDONALD: Why are you two making the most noise?
KELLY: Because their awesome! 
This is one of the reasons I love that kid, she's always got our backs!

I walked her half-way home after Art, where she told me that she named these guys:
KELLY: I named one google, because he wears goggles. I'd have called him Goggles but that's too simple.
ME: I know right, that would have been stupid! 
I then went up to the common room and played a game of "Bounce the filthy ball off the table and try to get it into the Styrofoam cup that is attached to said table with blue tac I luckily had in my bag with me that day" (Abbreviated to: BTFBOTTATTGIITSCTIATSTWBTILHIMBWMTD.) Catchy name, huh?

The Mosh Monkeys (Lucas and I) won 2-0. Sara squealed whenever the ball entered her "safety bubble". She really dislikes the state of our Common Room.

Had a chat to Caitlin about her holiday in Florida.

Somehow, she told me about the time Lily sent her a picture of Shamu's penis.

She then suggested I google it.

Going to skip ahead to Double Maths because I literally have no thoughts on how to end this section and I refuse to end it on the mental image of me googling Shamu's penis.


Probably the fastest double period of maths I've ever had. 

Mostly due to the fact we spent our time talking about Big Brother and doing the easiest work in the entirety of the Higher Maths course.

Mr Shaw had some awesome one-liners, but it's now 1am on Sunday morning, so I can't really think of what they were right now.

Megan came round with Buddy (her cute little dog) to "collect" me after school, Buddy then jumped up on my Mum and viciously face raped her.
FACE RAPE: Aggressively licking someone's face who is unwilling to be licked. Not to be confused with:
FACE SEX: Aggressively licking someone's face because you are both horny wee buggers.
It was hilarious. I went home at 11.30 and asked her if she had washed her face. 

She replied yes, and that she's also brushed her teeth.

I told her not to smile...

Lauren xxx

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