First off, this is going to be a wordy blog, I'm kinda pissed off, mildly amused, and theres's good music in the background. You don't like it, I'll put a TL;DR down the bottom.
Bloody weather. Freezes you in the morning, roasts you at lunchtime, rains on you going home from school, windy after that. Fragging bull, I tell you. Bloody 4 seasons in a day. MAKE UP YOUR MIND!
This morning, I had a look at the thing for the english essay. It said you had to use at least three quotes from the text in each paragraph. I put the thing back in my bag, and went back to undercoating gaunts in a state of shock. Three bloody quotes. I suppose if you had some sort of purple-language filter, it'd be pretty easy to find the bastards. Ah well. Then Denny and Ryan rocked up, Denny flicked through my 'nids book. I should be getting bloody paid by GW, my 'nid advertising spiel was pretty good, especially about the flesh-eating-bug ammo.
Got to school, assembly as slow. Frau Jacka said our lives are based on storylines in fiction or something. Made me think, which was good, because the rest of the thing was painfully boring. Mine is one of those fantasy epics, but with lots of political intrigue, and, since I'm at high school, a shoujo. All teenagers are like that.
Then history, which was researching. I read about the Sunbury festival, and how Queen was booed off the stage for being poofta Poms in '75, then looked up Jimmy Page with his violin stick, to prove a point to Oliver.
Rave, as usual, was not fun. We had a sub, and had to watch some 1994 flick produced by Oprah about Hank Azaria learning about deaf from Reg Monck, or something. That's what it looked like. Every other sentence the old bloke said had some sort of life related fortune cookie statement. Interest was quickly lost.
Recess was pretty slow, I think we did something, but I honestly can't remember. That's par for the course as far as recess goes, we just don't really do much.
Psych. Reading a page on impulsive thoughts, there was a thing about holding a baby and thinking about kicking it. I showed Carl, and we showed Zack, and we all laughed. This mental illness thing is slower than I thought it'd be, and we start watching a movie Friday, when I conveniently have rave. Bastards. I caught up with Aiden and George, and we traded definitions. Spiderman and Donkey Punch for Angry Dragon. We lol'd.
Next was art. Bernice found a thing of chips, which sent a squeaky thing into her face. We all all laughed. I was bored since Mrs Artteacherlady had nicked off, and Tom discovered a new use for the hairdryer, which involved a small plastic bag. The man is a genius, I swear. The girls drew each other and abused each other for making them look fat.
Lunch. Aiden and I laughed at Bernice's thing of chips, then found a coffee machine. Aiden kept an eye out while I dug around the sugar. 'Course, get to the hot water, and there is one measly drop. Bastard kettle thing! Then we grabbed a soccer ball and got the rest. After a bit of kicking around, the girls rocked up, and we had a game. Brad, Hayden and I were outnumbered for the first half, while Nick and Goody had a video camera for some reason. Then they joined in, with OtherAiden, Isaac, Agnik, and Will. Good game.
Then science, which was revision. I got the work done quickly, and Mr Smith said I should do more work, since I'm ahead. Cameron read my psych sheets and got in trouble.
English. Finally. More taking notes, this time on motifs and symbolism in Romeo and bloody Juliet. She must have been pretty good, musta shot fireworks or something, if the bloody fop was willing to kill himself. All this talk on motifs and symbolism made me think, cos I was bored, of course. I think motifs in the blog includes occasional swearing, which is symbolic of the fact that, well, things can be bloody annoying; *snipping, because as much as I need to get stuff written down and off my chest, I don't want all you buggers reading about it; and starting with the weather, which is of course symbolic of the fact that I suck at introductions.
Rode home against the rain, which cheerfully decided to start spitting when the bell went, then got a surprise driving lesson. It wasn't too bad, this first one was just testing the waters, see what I'm up to. We went around the same few blocks a couple of dozen times, then I realised I wasn't braking (didn't seem necessary), but the car was slowing down. A quick headcheck revealed that the dude had his own brake pedal. Bastard! Sure, he's just looking after his business, but hell! After I noticed this, I kind of felt less responsible, since if he had the brakes, meh.
Back home, whinged about Melissa's with Alison, made more gaunts red, and downloaded some Rolling Stones. Paint it Black for the win. Then I watched some Zero Punctuation, and poured out a bit of soul to Lulu. The problems with doing this sort of thing, I find, is that people can be fickle bastards, and as much as I trust Lulu, she's pretty cool and not stupid, there's always a niggling doubt that you said too much and that the subject will hear of it. Blargh.
Anyway. Tomorrow, I'mma go to Seaspray with the entire running team to run around on sand dunes. If I survive the bloody bus trip up. Then we get "the best chips around", but we have to pay for them. See how things go.
Catchyas.TL;DR; slow day, made me think, she knows too much *shifty eyes*.