Walking home to school I got quite irate at stupid people on the footpath. Things you should never do on a footpath are:

1. Suddenly stop and bend over. (I don't like your ass in my face. This especially applies if you're on stairs.)
2. Walk five abreast. Other people would like to walk on the footpath too, you know - there IS an opposite way whether you accept it or not.
3. Cut across other people from one side to the other. What the fuck?

Yeah. Just my little rant for today. Also Ming! Save your brain cells! What have you done? -_-

Also, I forgot to mention Dramatic Fall #4 is never as good as Dramatic Fall #1.

I watched The Passion of the Christ yesterday. You can learn a lot of things from the movie!

1) Don't watch a movie with a room of hyperventilating Asians unless you really have to. I mean what with the brutal on-screen punishment, having a row of people behind you going "OOOOOH AAAAAAHAHA OOHAHOAHOAHAH TSSSKSK OOOH" is just slightly annoying.

2) 90% of Roman soldiers are bastards.

3) 90% of Roman soldiers are stupid and blind.

4) The high priest is a dick.

Yeah. Apart from the aftermovie sermon which I wasn't informed about and promptly didn't listen to it because I wasn't very interested and it was in Cantonese, it was a nice free movie. A very depressing, thought provoking free movie. Poor Jesus.

I GOT THE COKE ANTHEMS!

"fresh from the fridge, fresh from the fridge"...

yeah, sorry - I've been lookin for that song for ages. And lo and behold I stole it from the Coke Website.

I'm very sleepy but it has come to my attention something that really really pisses me off.

So, my pet hate for today:

UNEXPECTED/UNWANTED TOUCHING/CONTACT

My oldest brother (Richard) has a very annoying tendancy of poking me in the shoulder. THERE ARE OTHER WAYS TO GET MY ATTENTION, ONES THAT DON'T PISS ME OFF SO MUCH. I hate being poked. I don't know why, I don't really care why, JUST DON'T DO IT. If I enjoyed you poking me in the shoulder over just going "hey", I would have told you. DON'T FUCKING POKE ME. DON'T DO IT. If I'm not expecting you to touch me, DON'T DO IT. If I don't want to be poked, DON'T POKE ME.

I hope you get the point. Don't ever poke me, ever again, or I shall be very angry. Sleep time.

Oh damn I am tired.

And I have to wake up early tomorrow as well....stupid me learning to play a musical instrument and all. I wonder why I did, really....

(On an unrelated note, TV is addictive, and could take over the world.)

This is something which I think should have been done quite a long time ago. Read the email I sent to Oxford University Press to understand.

Dear Oxford University Press:

I am a Year 13 NZ Student from Macleans College currently studying A Level Physics, and my school has adopted the use of your "AS and A Level Physics through Diagrams" textbook which I have found very useful and informative, with easy to understand language and informative explanatory diagrams. However, me and all the other students using the textbook have one major query about the textbook, which is "Why does it smell like fish"? Our Physics teacher upon being questioned replied that our school paid extra for the fish smell option, which we find rather strange. Do your textbooks offer a different range of smells in different price ranges? Is it the binder's glue that is the cause of the smell that is distinctly fishy? Or is it perhaps the ink on the paper, or the paper itself? Regardless, every time after a period of Physics in school I get a minor headache from the odour of the textbook, and leaving in my bag causes my entire bag to smell reminiscent of a fish-market.

If this is a printing error, can you please resolve it so that other future students, teachers and users of the textbook will not be subject to the smell of decaying animal matter whenever they need to look up the theory behind circular motion? I am sure they will all be grateful to own a copy of your great textbook which does not smell like fish.



Regards,

Henry Chong

Yes, word up to my Physics Class. \o/

Hmm. I'm going to try an experiment just to see how useful my oldest brother is. Let me see if I can go for a week pretending he doesn't exist.

Ants are stupid.

I just saw about 500 in the sink swarming around my dinner plates.

I killed them all. I know, they weren't hurting me at all but they piss me off. Big seething black moving mass of little things - what a paradox. At least they didn't die thirsty.

NOW LISTENING TO: Dave Brubeck - Benjamin Christopher David Brubeck

Damn jazz rocks. Anyway, today as I was walking home from school I was stuck behind a smoker. Which brings me to by gripe for today:

I HATE SMOKERS (as a general rule)

I mean, I wouldn't mind if they killed themselves quietly, I support free rights to do stuff, but when someone in front of you starts smoking and you can't really get away from the smoke they are slowly killing you and I hate that. It's like suicide - kill yourself, but don't kill me. Smoking should be banned in public and reserved to rooms of smokers, where they all just breathe in this huge smouldering cigarette situated in the corner of one such establishment and through the containment of the smoke they will not kill everyone else in sight.

I hate most smokers that I don't know, really. I suppose the ones I do know are alright generally, because they are considerate in that they don't smoke in my face. That's one way to piss me off.

/end rant

I thought about the "graffiti" incident today during my study period.

If graffiti is writing scribbled onto a surface, since my handwriting is quite horrible, whenever I take notes in class or write anything in school I'm graffiti-ing all over the place and that's against the school rules! Therefore, all my school books should be subjected to a ritual of burning and sacrifice for going against the school rules. Doing homework, schoolwork or any kind of writing in school is WRONG!

So says the rules of the school. Everyone in my school should be pointed out the fact that writing is now not permissible in school.

(Or is my logic just horrendously flawed?)

First, the not bad things about today.

Macleans Idol

Yeah, our school is going to hold its own idol competition. And I'm in it. I still can't decide what song to sing, if you have any suggestions or ideas feel free to tell me. There are plenty of ways to reach me.

(On a related(?) note, me and a few others caught our house leader singing that song that goes "Ain't no mountain high enough" - the name escapes me but it was quite funny. And also, she read my essay and didn't get angry! Yay! ^_^)

Now, the not so good thing. Ie the Problem of the Day (tm).

Anyone who knows me for about a day knows how unorganized I am. Recently as a way to combat this state of confusion and "help me, I don't know what class I have next!", I've written things on my left arm since if I wrote reminders to myself on pieces of paper, I'd lose the pieces of paper anyway. I like to call my left arm my personal walking notepad - I don't even have to reach into my pocket, all I have to do is look at my left arm.

Well today, Miss Hall (music teacher, I think she used to live in South Auckland which could be a reason why she has mean streaks on certain days) came up to me and the conversation went something like this:

MH - "What's that on your arm?!"
me - "Oh, it's my walking notepad. I used to write notes on pieces of paper but I'd lose those pieces of paper."
MH - "Get rid of it."
me - "...are you serious?"
MH - "YES. You know that school rule about graffiti? That includes drawing on your hand. Go and wash it off now."
me - "...okay."

I then proceeded to go to the nearest toilet (in this case the Art Block toilets, which are the cleanest in the school anyway) and washed it all off, using in the process about half the soap in that tank of liquid soap and a whole lot of water since vivid doesn't come off easily. So, the effects of this punishment:

- 5 minutes of not having music
- Approximately 7 people's worth of soap wasted
- Me having to copy out all my notes all over again
- The psychological scar I will have for the rest of my life
- Some kid in Afghanistan died

I knew better than to argue with her when she's on a mean streak. I mean, it actually wasn't that hard to wash it off (it just took a lot of soap, thats all). But now in the safety and comfort of my own home I'm going to see just where she gets off at controlling what I write on myself. I mean, it's my body and all right? First, she said there were "drawings on my hand". Are drawings comparable to notes? Let's look at a dictionary definition.

drawing n. 1 art of representing by line with a pencil etc. 2 picture etc. made thus.

I agree that I did make an image using a vivid. But are notes to myself considered art?

art n. 1 a human creative skill or its application. b work showing this.

Creative? Hmm. I don't think I was spurred by some flash of artistic inspiration to write things like "do the washing" on my arm. (Though some strange person probably WOULD call it art)

creative adj. 1 inventive, imaginative

Definitely not inventive. Definitely not imaginative. THEREFORE the writing on my arm was not creative, not allowing it to be art and therefore not a drawing! Ahah! But what about graffiti? Is that restricted to just drawing? Hmm.

graffiti n.pl. (sing. graffito) writing or drawing scribble, scratched, or sprayed on a surface.

It's not drawing but it most definitely is writing. Guilty on that account. So I did "graffiti" on my hand. The school policy on graffiti is, uh...let me look through my homework diary to find some points I think look relevant.

Keep your diary, including the cover neat and tidy. No graffiti.
(Last time I checked, my arm was not a diary.)

the definition of acceptable behaviour is clearly understood and where students show consideration for others.
(I was considerate! I didn't wave my arm in people's faces! I didn't yell out "LOOK AT MY ARM, YOU FUCKERS!")

That's all I saw that looked relevant. No rule concerning me writing on my own arm. But wait! What's this clause here that looks important?

Students are under the school's authority from the time they leave home until they return home.

So by going to school I signed away pretty much all my rights (there goes your speech on human rights, Miss Warner!) and allowing the school to decide what's good for me and what isn't. And a part of the school doesn't think I should be writing on my hand and therefore justfully punished me for it. Wow! I can get punished for writing on myself. I bet that's a bizzare thing to happen in schools. Or is it? You know, schools kind of remind me of a prison. A few things they have in common:

- A uniform.
- A drug counselor.
- A counselor, in general.
- Regulated activites.
- The authority has full control over you.

At least in prisons they feed you.

So by going to school, I basically let someone yell at me for writing on my arm, go figure. I'll probably do it again just to see if I can get an essay from it. This is intefering with human rights! THIS IS A HUGE OBSTRUCTION OF JUSTICE AND ALL THAT IS GOOD AND PURE AND SO FORTH! I have a dream - that white people and black people and even Asian people can write on their own arms and not be faced with punishment and discrimination (har har you arm writer you). But then again, what can I do? I'm an anomily in the "well run" system. I am a bug. The Macleans Matrix says I must be made to cease and desist in a way much like America. I'm just a student being oppressed.

Oh well. That's life for you. Dinner time.

Okay, I'm pretty freaked out by that container of urine in my house.

Yes, I said container of urine.

Now why would there be a container of re-used saliva and regurgitated liquids within my home? Well, Richard is a med school student. And, for the next 24 hours, he has to take a leak into that bottle sitting on his desk. It's really freaky, it is, the urine's kinda gone orange and kinda looks like beer gone wrong, what with the froth and all. At least it doesn't smell - or not yet at least. Crazy Med School students, them.

According to OKCupid, some shootoff from TheSpark, I am:

The Boy Next Door

Random Gentle Love Dreamer (RGLDm)

Kind, yearning, playful, you are The Boy Next Door. You're looking for real Love, a lot like girls do. It might not be manly, but it's sweet. We think the next three years will be very exciting and fruitful ones for you. Your spontaneous, creative side makes you a charming date, and we think you have a horny side just waiting to shine. Or glisten, rather. You enter new relationships unusually hopeful, and the first moments are especially glorious. If you've had some things not work out before, so what.


Your exact opposite:
The 5-Night Stand (Deliberate Brutal Sex Master)

On paper, most girls would name the Boy Next Door as their ideal mate. In the real world, however, you're often passed over for more dangerous or masculine men. You're the typical "nice guy:" without just a touch of cockiness, you're doomed with girls. A shoulder to cry on? Okay, sure. But never a penis to hold. More than any other type, Boys Next Door evolve as they get older. As we said, many find true love, but some fail miserably in the search. These tarnished few grow up to be The Men Next Door, who are creepy as hell, offering backrubs to kids and what not.

ALWAYS AVOID: The Nymph

CONSIDER: The Maid of Honor, The Peach

---

Yeah. Thought someone might be interested.

My personality according to Dr. John Edwards is:

ENFP - Extroverted Intuitive Feeling Perceptor

Warmly enthusiastic, high-spirited, ingenious, imaginative. Able to do almost anything that interests them. Quick with a solution for any difficulty and ready to help anyone with a problem. Often rely on their ability to improvise instead of preparing in advance. Can usually find compelling reasons for whatever they want.

--

Anyway, today I woke up and William told me Richard wasn't home (older brothers, Richard being the eldest). Then he came home, after finding me a very nice CD (thanks Rich) and went to sleep at approximately noon in bed with his girlfriend. -_- I'm amazed they both fit on one bed, considering its a single bed. How dodgy/potentially illegal. I had Wendy's for dinner. Academy of Strings practice today too, it was great having not played the cello in a week, it was nice. Mm.

Fucking hell. Some stupid Girl Guides girls just ran up to my house and asked me if I wanted Girl Guides biscuits. I would have said yes if they weren't dressed like sluts. What is wrong with teh youngin's?! They proceeded then to fuck around with the awesome weather machine which Thomas gave me the little shits and run all over my caving stuff which I had set out to dry. Grr.

And as for the party thing, I have an excuse. If I tell it to myself often enough I'll also believe it. I'll just say I fell asleep and my brother was online. >.> But if any of you read this I really wanted to go, the real reason I can't is because my brother isn't home and I'm lazy to call people and I suck cause I can't find DVDs etc.

Yeah. I just wanted to complain about annoying Girl Guides who don't seem to understand "No I don't have money on me" as a cue to FUCK OFF BECAUSE I DON'T WANT YOUR BISCUITS.

Sorry about the language. I've been swearing a lot lately. I've just noticed it at camp...-_- But I probably have been for a year. Oh well.

BACK FROM CAMP!

Oh my god. Best five days of this year, definitely. Definitely definitely the best five days of this year. And again! BEST FIVE DAYS OF THIS YEAR.

I suppose it really helped that I wasn't going there with high expectations. All the time when people keep bitching about how little food there is I'm enjoying it. All the time when people are complaining (ahem, Brandon) about shit that's happening, I cruised through it. And, Camp was fun. I did so much shit and it was all wicked. In no particular order, let's start with some random thoughts.

- There was a playground! Imagine 17-18 year olds (with the exception of me) on a playground, and the hilarity that ensues.

- There was a dairy about a ten minute walk from the campsite! I must have been there about three times in the five days and spent like, $10. (Which reminds me, Brandon owes me $20.)

- I walked around barefoot 94% of the time. The only time I had shoes on was Tramping, Mountain Biking (which wasn't really that, but more on that later) and Caving.

- The food...not too shabby considering they have to cater for like 300 people. No mean feat I can assure you. The hot chocolate was pretty much sugar water with food colouring, but the macaroni and cheese dinner one night was very nice.

- I met so many people it wasn't funny. (Well, in a strange way it was, but in a cool not funny way. I digress.)

Well, what did I do in five days? I'll just copy off the sheet.

Abseiling

This wasn't a highlight for me. More like a midly enjoyable filler activity. I don't know about you, but controlled falling just doesn't really do it for me. It was pretty freaky to start with when you look down and you're like SHIT but then when you actually start falling at the speed of a walking fat American, it's like meh.

Rock Climbing

This was alright. I show my general ineptitude at all things physical by ruining the harness for one of the rock climbing stations, thus preventing everyone behind me from climbing that rock face. ALRIGHT! I did climb the easiest rockface. At least I tried my best. And I can say that I ruined the harness because I tried so hard. Yup. -_-

Caving

What a huge contrast to what I thought it would be. I expected that I'd just go for a walk through a dark hole. And hell yeah, caving is walking through a dark hole. Only fun! Who knew that getting your clothes ruined and smelling like crap was so much fun? Sliding around, squeezing through impossibly narrow corridors and all those stalactite things. And that water, oooh nice cold water. Best activity I did on camp. Kamal agrees with me, therefore we are correct and all those losers who enjoyed sitting around doing jackshit like those Korean girls in our group are wrong.

Archery

Despite me not having done this in like a year, I fluked getting a yellow on my first arrow. ^_^ Andrew Wallace fully had the mean aim, all he'd do was raise the bow, let go, and it'd find its way to where he wanted it to go. No aiming, no mess, just fucking load and fire. I didn't really do very well but I was the only person to pop the balloon attached to the targets which were waving in the wind and whatnot.

Water-based Activity

Better than I thought. I managed to stay very very clean compared to everyone else, the stupid bastards, heh heh. Basically, we all build rafts and played a game down a river. The only gay thing was that on my raft were two useless girls, Kate (I don't know her last name) and Sarah Fels. Kate kept yelling at me and Andrew to paddle while just leaving her paddle in the water, making us turn and forcing me to compensate for her cockup, and Sarah Fels didn't seem to understand the concept of turning on a raft.

Speaking of Sarah Fels I've just noticed (I can't believe it slipped by me) that she has a huge ego. Backtrack to Archery for a bit. She boasts she's going to beat everyone because she's done archery for three years and she rules at it and blah blah huge fucking pile of shit. For half the time, all she did was shoot her arrow over the target. I wonder what she did for three years, learn to use her fingers? And then there was the tramp, where "she totally ruled" and held everyone back. And there was pistol shooting where she held her gun at the barrel, increasing the chance of her shooting her fingers off (not sure if that's a good or bad thing) and got a few fluke shots and said she ruled and shit. She took like 5 minutes to shoot once, and held us all back. Then she missed the target after about five shots. And Kurt beat her score by miles.

Enough about Sarah Fels.

Pistol Shooting

Damn I suck at this. I don't have a particularly steady hand so you can imagine what happens. I did hit the target once though, which I'm quite, uh, proud of. (Hey, at least I hit the damn thing!) Kurt ruled though. He shot lying down on the floor, gangsta style, it didn't matter, whatever he did, he hit the target.

Screen Printing

I put "Congrats, you now have sars" on my T-shirt. Hilarity ensued.

Tramping

Hooray a walk in the bush. That's what I thought. But it was fully wicked! Sure, climbing up like a 70 degree slope which is muddy and smells like arse isn't too good, but going downhill kicked arse. I can't believe I went so far either, amazing. I fully thought I'd collapse about halfway through, but I made it and I was fine after. Strange. (I do, however, have a mean sore thigh from that stupid uphill shit.) The fish and chips we bought from the takeaway were legend too. Mmm. (Speaking of the shop, they fully made a crapload of business when we were down in Ngaruawahia - and the chicken burger I bought from them was hell nice.)

Mountain Biking

Not exactly mountains. Just a ride around the campsite. It was alright even though the name was misleading, I hadn't been on a bike since last year's triathlon so it was kinda nice.

Dr. Edwards Workshops

Mixed feelings on this one. At times he was droning on and on, but he makes really good points, even though my book I doodled in says otherwise. They didn't really have to be that long though, he could have been more precise and to the point rather than waffly. I suppose he's getting paid shitloads so he doesn't care.

--Other things that I can say--

Accomodation was, strange. There was a disturbing white stain on my mattress in the cabin me and seven others (Byron, Ryan (the saf one), Kamal, Kurt, Heusen, Kev, Yu-nan and Christian) were in. The ladders to the top bunks (I was on one) were designed for five year olds, or midgets. One of the two. The food was alright as I said before, there's always something I didn't really like and something I liked.

The showers sucked. I fully tried not to take a shower but I couldn't stand it after caving. There was fully no pressure, the hot water was fickle...but I suppose at least there was a shower.

--Entertainment at night--

First night's entertainment was Fear Factor, where people tried to get skittles out of a tub of baked beans with their head (and the tub wasn't changed, ever - so the later people had to deal with recycled spit too), drinking lots and lots of milk, throwing around a spicy sheep's heart (yes, sheep).

Then after, there was the man-o-man. High/low points were:

Shern. Doesn't seem to be able to keep his shirt on (much like everyone else in the competition)
Sam Forde. A bunny suit, then red undies and a leopard skin top? Uh...
Rikky. With a T-shirt that says "testosterone man", he really should have won.
Fraser. Best pickup line ever - "If I throw a coin what are the chances of me getting head?"
Chris White and Steve Arnold. Imagine wrestling in a jockstrap and tighty whities between the two, who were covered in baby oil. Yes, nudity ensued. Yes, Steve Arnold lost his underwear.

Second night was some lame attempt at a singalong. As nice as the idea was, it doesn't really work if only the ten people around the guitar can hear the guitar. I don't think we even finished a song. Saving grace was John Boden's mint solo performance though. Nice.

Third night, hot pools! Oh yeah they were good. Oh very much so. Despite rumours that someone took a dump in the pool and Teyla had her period in the pool, it was still good. There was this strange smell, but I hope it was just the sulphur.

And last night, the concert. Skits from houses, and the teacher skit. Oh man, the teacher skit was funny. Miss Rowbotham trying very very hard to keep a straight face. Ms Warner being Judge Hardass. Rule 69 about Sexual Harrassment! Arunum trying to copy Rikky's eclipse gum ad rendition, fully bombed it did. What a loser. I think he changed his name to Daryl for some stupid reason as well. The skit which involved KFC, a black guy, and a Steve Irwin impersonation.

---

The view was good. The camp environment was nice, there were fully sheeps and cows and horses there. There was even a horse that looked like a cow. Crazy. The camp was great because of the people, no less. All those new people I met, good mates, random hilarity, it was shitloads better than school. Huge props to the school eh.

Yeah. It was wicked, wicked. I'm probably going to forget by next year, but at least I'll have this blog, maybe.

Also, Kevin didn't believe I was my brother's, uh, brother. That's all. (And Philip Wong is a tosser). Oh yeah, and Brandon doesn't stop complaining. ^_^

---

I'm tired. Supposely there could be a get-together. I'm angry, I can't find my Monty Python DVDs. I don't have any mode of transport anyway. Once I blog, I'm going to call him and tell him I can't find it. Yes. Well, that's it. I don't really remember anything else about camp. (Oh yes, Tineke got really shitty at me. Must be because I keep pissing her off. >.>)

Things I purchased today:

- Rachmaninov Piano Collection Volume 1 (A shitload of his preludes and etudes.)
- Dave Brubeck - Take Five album (very nice)
- Kings of Swing (some random music, only bought it for Duke Ellington's The A Train, really....recording isnt too great but hey)

Each CD cost me like...$3. I love cheap quality music.

Also, I got the poplypropylene stuff - we went around to three different warehouses, the first two were out of stock on long sleeved ones (which is the requirement...) I think the reason they're out is because everyone else is 200% more organised than I am. We finally got it (there was a crapload here) at the Warehouse in Panmure. $17.99 for a longsleeved navy blue polyprop top. Not too bad, I suppose.

Now my Angry Mum (tm) wants me to pack stuff. Blarg.

Hmm, I am going to go to Botany Town centre tomorrow to go look for some polypropylene shirts (or whatever its called) for 7th Form Camp next week. They'd best be cheap and readily available or I'll be in shit...I thought my brother had some but turns out he doesn't. Bastards.

Anyway, two songs that recently picked my fancy:

Incubus - Megalomaniac (This has a FANTASTIC video...could be studied for English, really. Great art style too.)
Simple Plan - Perfect.

Oh yeah, our band has a name now. I think. "Fistful of Fives". Well that's what I think it is. I'm past caring. That's about it.

Oh! I remember what happened today now. I was late to school. The story can be summed up in the punishment essay I wrote.

Victims of Circumstance

Yes, this is a late essay. Yes, I typed it because I believed it would be faster so that I could get this punishment out of the way and then get onto doing things I want to do or other things that I have to do (such as homework, since I’m a hard out A Level student). And yes, I had no good excuse for being late. Since I’m typing this out and I have an approximate typing speed of 90 words per minute I’m going to guess this will take me no more than 8 minutes to complete. But just to be fair on you teachers who want me to actually do some tedious pointless essay, I won’t use paragraphs so you get more bang for your punishment, so to speak. Anyway, the typed font will be much more legible to whoever is reading this as my normal handwriting can be quite poor, which any of my friends can tell you. Anyway, where was I. Yes. Victims of Circumstance. (Mrs. Figgins if you’re reading this, hi! Please don’t be angry, I’m not trying to be cheeky. If you really, really really want a handwritten essay just tell me and I’ll write all of this out by hand.) Victims of Circumstance. Well, I was thinking about this when I went to school today and knowing I was late I didn’t bother running (I actually left my house at 8:25 so there was no way I’d ever get to school on time), but while walking I saw this busload of students who were now officially late go past me. When we reached the teacher on duty, who was doing his duty taking down names for lateness, the bus had unloaded students. Even though it wasn’t the student’s fault that the bus was late, the teacher on duty still gave them all essays, claiming they should walk to school if their bus becomes late. Now, there’s a bad argumentative point, I thought silently in my head, but who wants to argue with a teacher? All you’ll get is two pages which is double the annoyance, really. But back to the point – his claim was that everyone should be in walking distance to the school and we should all walk to school. And if not, go to another school. Well for some it just isn’t technically possible. I know, out of zones students have to handle their own means of transport and get to school on time. I know, it’s their problem. But I think in the case I encountered the day I silently accepted my essay and walked off to form-time, the people on the bus were victims of circumstance. Think about it, nobody wants to get an essay – nobody in their right mind, anyway. (I certainly didn’t arrive at school late for the overwhelming joy of writing (or in my case, typing) a one-page essay.) Those students were just caught in a situation they had no control over. Let me go over my evidence. Firstly, like I mentioned, nobody wants to be late to school. Secondly, none of the students on board the bus had magical time powers, so when the bus was late, it was late. They could do nothing. And if they chose NOT to take the bus, they’d be even later. So why burn them for making the right choice spontaneously? I know if I was a teacher I’d rather my students arrive a little late on a bus than get stressed out running to school and getting the same punishment anyway. So pretty much my point is, you gotta have some flexibility. Not everyone wants to be late. It was a perfect, legitimate reason why they were late, because their mode of transport was late. (Most people who walk are just lucky their legs are obedient 99% of their lives and don’t charge any money). It’s not like any of the students deliberately told the bus driver something along the lines of “hey sir, slow down, I want to be late to school so I can get punished with an essay!” I...don’t think so. Yeah. That was pretty much what I wanted to say. I know (and so does Mrs. Figgins) that some people actually read essays...well she does, anyway. (Hi again, how’s things up top, Mrs Figgins?) Is this the case in the top office? Do you guys hire someone to go through piles of late and automatic essays, or do you just shove them through a shredder? I hope someone reads this so they understand the point I was trying to put across. If I was kind and generous I would write the essays for everyone on that fated bus ride. But unfortunately, I am not kind and generous. If you office ladies read this, hi! Thanks for doing a great job. If you office ladies run this through the shredder, no hard feelings. You’re probably just doing what you were told to do. Anyway, I think this is enough. I have homework to do now. Perhaps some other time, when I get another essay, I can discuss something else that rags me. Until then.

Yup. That's what happened today.

Well, nothing happened today. Oh wait, there was something...a band practice, yes.

I'm hallucinating things. I thought someone was tapping at the window but when I turned to look they disappeared. Then I saw a black horserider, but it was only a leaf.

I blame porn, that or all the little children in Afghanistan.

There's this really annoying shithole which is on the footpath which spews up gunk and rotten organics and other strange and smelly items, on the way walking to school. It's been there since the start of the year and nobody's bothered to fix it. It quite frankly pisses me off.

Of course, that has nothing to do with anything. All it means is that I have to jump over it every time I walk to school. Whic his a pain. But that's about it.

Anyway, where was I....um....uh.....

Hmm. Oh yeah, my first ever fan (of my music) asked for permission to play one of my parodies on his school radio. Naturally I said yes (who doesn't want to be on radio?). Yeah. Interesting point for the day.

I can't think of anything else to say really, other than the school orchestra this year is really bad. We struggled through old music and the new music sounds like the rear end of a hippo. Especially Lord of the Rings. It has so much potential, it's just that we're not playing it very well. (We doesn't include the cello section, we're always right. Always.)

Yup.

That's it.

Ok, tagboard and commenting on posts should be up now. Cher.

See, unlike other Blogs and internet little diary little record of thingsy things, I don't have to apologize for not updating because nobody reads this shit anyway.

Well, at least I hope not. I don't think anyone does. But in the rare eventuality there is one greasecovered nerd eating a sandwich through his pimply face reading the wondrous exploits of, well, me, I'm going to look into setting up one of those fancy flash-as comment/shoutout boards, which will probably end up with insightful remarks like "cool" and "okay" and "suck".

Anyway. What happened today, let's see..

I suspect one of my friends has brain damage.

You see, it's funny that the worst drugs aren't the illegal ones but the legal ones. Think of alcohol. Think of how many people do very very stupid (funny, but very very stupid) things while totally tanked. Think of how many people lose their livers. Think of how many who need to spend another $25 for a new pair of jeans. You get the point. But...what if it wasn't just something material (like a liver)? What if something much more crucial was impaired and stabbed and left bleeding to die?

This said friend of mine has the following symptoms which I, even though it's my brother who's in med school not me, think are very fine symptoms of fucking your brain up.

1. The attention span of a doorknob. In other words, ask him a question, he'll look like he's thinking of an answer, but then comment on something completely different. For example when I saw him when the bell went for hometime today:

Me: "Good luck for tennis."

(pause)

Him: "Man, my hole has a pencil case."

2. The intelligence of a baby. Only a baby would willingly screw up their pencil case (or a retard, but the IQs are roughly the same). I watched him mutilate his pencil case today in Physics, completely ignoring the fact that we actually had an obligation to work as hardout smart A level students which actually didn't feel like failing like last year. Instead of doing much needed practice on circular motion and simple harmonic motion, he chose to destroy his perfectly functional pencil case, nylon layer by nylon layer. At the end of the period when he had destroyed the four outer layers of it and made a huge hole in the only remaining layer, I nicely pointed out to him he had just destroyed his pencil case. He looked a bit shocked after I told him that.

3. The retard smile. You know those people who you know are tripping out? They like...stare kinda a bit past you, and keep smiling like they're being given head by some invisible assailant? Yeah. That was him today. For example (in the same physics class)

Me: "Hey, is it period versus the square root of l?"

(pause)

Him: "What?" (With a big cheesy grin)

He then proceeded to twink a penis onto my hand by means of impression. The lil' bastard.

I think he's successfully scared me off alcohol now. I would almost vow to never get drunk, but where's the fun in that...I swear, a funnel and 10 beers every weekend can't be good for any 17 year old. I suppose I should be happy he isn't smoking and he's keeping the liver damage to himself like a good boy. (At least he's dying happily)

If you are reading this O dear brain-damaged friend (which I don't know how you would be, seeing that I never give out this address...which could also be why nobody ever reads this) - HELLO! Yeah, that was the end of that anecdote.

I have physics homework to do. Which really should have been done yesterday but I digress.