Well, I decided to put all of the blogs I've written on my myspace on here, just in case anyone wants to read through what I've written.
General Cronin
Oh yes, that reminds me. I don't know what it was that reminded me, but there was something.
Apparently, General Studies = RE. At least with Ms. Cronin. I just can't seem to escape it! I thought I'd done really well in my essay, even though it was only a page and a bit, and didn't really end, and what did she give me? 12. Out of 25. And the annoying thing is that it actually bothered me. Since I put in almost half of the total effort I could have. So just to spite her, and to escape the lesson, I only wrote half a page on whatever the subject was, I can't recall at the mo, and that included words such as 'Hooooowever'.
Hey, look at that. I almost complained about having nothing to write about, but then I realised I'd written rather a lot today.
Makes you think, doesn't it?
I need a muse.
Observations.
I had an observationali
I started the day watching Batman. And not the new stuff, where he's all dark and mysterious. No, it was the old, 1966 version, with Adam West as Batman. It was the funniest film I've seen in a long while, but it wasn't a comedy. It was full of morals, like Robin saying, about drinking, "Gee Batman, I'd sure hate not to be able to trust my eyes," and how they shouldn't play God and try to solve all of the world's problems by changing the opinions of the world leaders, when they were completely dehydrated. But that's too good to explain, you just have to see it to believe it.
It was really cheesy and unbelievable as well. Batman was bitten by a shark full of explosives while he was on his Bat Ladder, but fortunately they had a can of Shark-repellen
You really must see it.
Then, and this is reality now, not TV, but I was waiting at the bus stop near Morrisons in Kirkham, when I saw some potentially fatal happenings. A truck came hurtling down the hill, towards a stationary car, on the soaked road, and it really looked like it wouldn't stop in time, but, fortunately, it did.
And then, on the same road, minutes later, there was almost another accident. You know how on TV, a little kid always kicks their ball into the road, and then the hero shows up, and saves them? Well that didn't happen. I don't mean the kid just got hit by a car. I mean that the kid just ran straight through the traffic, it didn't seem to slow down or anything, he just managed to run through, unscathed, while concerned on-lookers stared on in horror, at what could have been.
OK, i said it was an observational morning, but what more was there to notice? Except for the large amount of weird-looking people populating Kirkham. There was a woman marching down the street, and I mean proper goose-stepping
Aside from that, nothing. Oh, except on the St. George's pub, there's no apostrophe. Which is an interesting word. If you say it wrong. Ay-po-stroaf.
My Epiphanies
It was back in Biology, on Thursday or Friday, that I was distracted by a something that I realised. I just thought to myself "Hmm, three, that's an odd number." It amused me greatly.
I also realised, just now, that here would be the perfect place to get some research for the journalism piece that my group are doing for the political journalism club. It's on the new regulations concerning paternity leave for men.
I just thought that this was an interesting quote, and relevant to my last blog, as it concerns the Tory leadership, as the candidates' public image could easily sway the vote:
David Davis, for instance, boasted that he had never cooked a meal or, despite having three children, changed a nappy. It is as clear a distinction between him and David Cameron — whom I once bumped into in the Commons carrying his year-old daughter around as he worked — as you are going to get.
Here's the Telegraph's take on the hap's:
Men were offered new rights to paternity leave yesterday in a move intended to reflect the growing role fathers play in bringing up children.
Alan Johnson, the Trade Secretary, unveiled plans to allow mothers who return to work within a year to transfer some of their "spare" maternity leave or pay to the father.
Mothers can take up to 12 months off. They are currently entitled to 90 per cent of their salary for six weeks and £106 per week for the rest of the first six months, but the last six months is unpaid.
In his Work and Families Bill published yesterday, Mr Johnson committed the Government to giving mothers their £106 maternity pay for up to nine months from April 2007, in line with a promise Labour made at the election.
But, in a move not explicitly set out in the manifesto, he said that fathers would be able to take over after six months, taking advantage of the mother's paid or unpaid leave. Assuming that a mother went back to work after six months, the father would be entitled to three months' paid leave at £106 per week, and another three months' unpaid leave. However, if the father took over after nine months, he would be able to spend only three months at home unpaid.
Under the present rules, fathers are entitled to just two weeks' paternity leave at the £106 per week rate, which is usually taken just after the baby is born.
Mr Johnson said: "We think there is a growing interest by fathers in taking a role in the first year of a child's life."
He said the measures in the Bill, which will require mothers to give employers two months' notice instead of one month's if they are not returning to work after maternity leave, would cost the Government about £360 million a year.
The Bill will also give carers the same "right to request" flexible working hours currently enjoyed by the parents of young children.
Unions warmly welcomed the proposals. Business organisations highlighted potential problems for employers, although they accepted there was a case for "family-friend
John Cridland, the deputy director general of the Confederation of British Industry, said: "The business community recognises the aspirations of their employees but the unexpected new right for fathers has caused concern particularly among smaller firms." He said the plans would put "considerable pressure" on firms to match their occupational maternity pay with paternity pay.
But the CBI also said that the right to request flexible working had been "an enormous success" and that the Government was right to extend it.
David Frost, the director general of the British Chambers of Commerce, claimed that the plans for extending paternity leave could be an "administrativ
The Chartered Institute of Personnel and Development said that, with mothers and fathers usually working for different employers, allowing them to divide the maternity leave allowance between them would be "complex and potentially unenforceable"
But a spokesman for the institute said the rules would probably cause few problems in the short term because fathers were "unlikely to be queueing up to take longer paternity leave at current rates of pay".
Duncan Fisher, of the campaign group Fathers Direct said: "Offering extended paternity leave, with the option of some payment, is an important first step towards reforming our leave system and giving parents real choice as to who looks after a baby. But it will not be a practical option for most families until the new paternity leave is properly paid."
I know this hasn't been my work at all, but some opinions on the matter would be a big help! And we are planning on taking a new angle on the subject; bring it down to a local level, to make it more personal and the information more accessible. That way, we can win, and eventually, take over the world! Moohahaahaaa!
Ahem.
More Essay Related shizzle.
From all of the essays I've written, I'm not even sure how much I've taken in from them. And it also seems like anyone can write an essay, if they have basic comprehensive skills. All you need to do is extract the information from various sources, and write it into your own words, so it makes some sort of sense. Or is that just me? I can't even tell if I'm absorbing the information that passes from my eyes, to my brain to my fingers. Maybe it just bypasses my brain.
And now there's the paranoia of whether I've done enough, and if what I have done is actually decent. And the competition in the class of who can do the best, but that's not be worried about until after the hols, when the results come back to us. Hmm, I've run out of things to say. Much like in my essay on the Biological Importance of Water.
Oh, I could write satirically, about the Conservatives. And who's gonna run it. That's always fun.
Fist there's David Davis. Great name. But what's his middle name? Not too much is known about this fellow. At least not by me.
Then there's David Cameron. He tries to make the everyday man's perception of him that he is one of them, a normal, family man. Like pretty much every MP or PM tries to do. But then there was his speech today. He said he wants to run the Tories because he wants to be in charge of a really up-to-date, modern party. At which point, I turned to my mum, and said "Wrong party, mate."
Most of the jokes in my house seems to be about the news, these days. They were talking, again about the Tory leadership thing, about how they were having a race, then they called it a fight, them a battle. So we wondered how Andrew Marr (if that's right, I should really know) would cover it. If you've never seen his work, he does really wacky, often quite cliché reports, in which he talks about what's happening in extended metaphors, so he can show pictures. For example, and this is something he, hopefully, wouldn't say, but if he said "he was a really sweetie," he would then show a picture of a sweet.
And that really doesn't sound funny if you haven't seen his reports before, making it all worthless. Meh.
An overdue update.
Right, this is a blog I was trying to publish yesterday, when I wrote it, but the internet decided to be screwy, so I saved it.
In English Language, we've been asked to bring in a style model for a piece of coursework on informative or persuasive writing. But I don't know who I write like, or who I'd like to try to write like for it. If anyone has any ideas then they would be muchly welcome.
If I remember correctly, then this is the piece that I can write an article for, if I please, if anyone knows, please say. And if it is, I shouldn't find it too hard, with any luck. It's only 1500 words, but I don't know if I've ever written an article of such length before though.
I'm not sure on the other piece, either. It's a piece of creative writing, and I don't really have an idea, I just wrote down anything when he asked for it. But if I'm stuck with it, I suppose it's not too bad, it'll give me direction. Maybe I could use the thing I wrote for the Drama test we did, we were supposed to write a beforetime for Joe Smith, but I just wrote a story, the question was pretty unclear.
So anyway, yeah, ideas.
But speaking of Drama, the pieces we did in the style of "The Office" were amazing! It was just supposed to be a piece to make us think about Stanislavski's teachings (which are bollocks, by the way), but it, and it inevitably would, turned into scenes from "The Office".
'Lazy twat.' 'That was uncalled-for, in a way.'
This week's the last before half-term! It's come pretty quickly, if you ask me, but I just know it's going to be filled with even more work than if we were actually at school. We've just been set our forth essay for Biology, I don't think the other class have had that many. But I am, surprisingly, learning quite a lot learning this way, even though Mrs Hilton-Peet (HP) is just getting the lessons off the internet.
I feel like I need a haircut, it looks pretty tatty a lot of the time, you might have noticed. Maybe a bit shorter than it's been in a while. It seems easier and cheaper than buying new straighteners for hundreds of pounds. Even though the ones I have are slowly but surely dying.
Anyone else's Messenger acting up? Just me?
Ah yes, the cold. I have defeated you!
And this is something that Hazel showed me, which I felt was sufficiently weird enough to be repeated:
Its just like the story of the grasshopper and the octopus. All year long the grasshopper kept burying acorns for winter while the octopus mooched off his girlfriend and watched TV.Then the winter came and the grasshopper died and the octopus ate all his acorns and also he got a racecar.Is any of this getting through to you?
...
I've got a flannel to wash my face, when it gets dirty I feel disgraced. Do you like horlicks, do you like chips, I've got a hundred pairs of lips.
My Cold... My life
Argh, my cold's getting so annoying! I'm always thinking about whether i can actually breathe or not, it just gets boring.
So I've been bingeing on anything that mentions Vitamin C, or I think has it in, to try and battle it. Hopefully that works, and Vitamin C isn't just for preventing. Maybe I'll eat more fruit. That'll be a good idea.
Rob said today, something that I hadn't heard before. He said that you can't destroy the cold because there are billions of different strands, but I thought it just evolved rapidly, and reproduced so fast that it was naturally selected and the anti-bacterial resistant versions survived to keep on punishing you. But then Rob said with all of the billions of strains, you kill one type, become immune, but then there are so many others to carry on giving you colds.
But that's all biology, and if anyone wants to explain then they're welcome to... But I'm not too bothered.
Anyway, I'm glad to see people on the stories, it seems to be doing well, even if I have to egg it on every now and then.
Story Time! 2
Well you all seemed to enjoy the first one so much, I decided to let you have another story time!
Go wild.
OK, a few ground rules then, to come into effect when I publish this. You can only say as many as.. hmm.. five words. No, actually, exactly five words. If that means your sentence ends halfway through, then so be it. And you can't write another comment for another five words, you must wait for the next person to write first.
Oh, and please, not the obvious, or crude. But it was inevitable that a pigeon story would turn to crapping.
Story Time!
OK, this, anyone can join in with. Like any blog, actually. But I think it would be interesting if we all wrote a story together! Just write down anything relevant you can think of to happen to the characters.
Or not. Just say you're character, and join the action.
I'll set the scene.
...
Or not. Why is this so hard? I was looking for my old English coursework intro, but I guess I never typed it up.
Does anyone wanna give it a go?
OK, Heather's starting us off. Can everyone else wait, please?
All is right with the world
Thanks for the reassurance on my last blog, and now I feel great!
After forgetting my keys and being unable to get into my house, I did the only clever thing, and took the Amazon delivery round to my back garden, opened it up, grabbed 'xxxholic' (not a porno like you might think- it's Japanese. Or judging by the title, maybe Japenis) and climbed up onto the roof, until someone got back that could let me in. My dad appeared after I had waited about an hour, on the roof, getting strange looks from Dean and anyone else who passed, for some reason.
I keep losing things recently. On Saturday I lost my deck of cards, and today, I lost my phone, only for it to be found by an unsuspecting neighbour. So they traced it back to me, after my incessant phoning of it, in an attempt to locate it. So I went to collect it, I rang the doorbell, it was answered by a guy, whom I didn't recognise, even though I must have lived next-door-but-
Ha! Go me! Remember the biology essay I said I'd been stressing over? I got my result back today! Joint best in the class, with an A/B. And there was me thinking I'd not done enough.
I've got an idea for the journalism comp., too! Everything's fitting into place. Of course, I can't say what my idea is on here, for fear of thievery, and me not knowing how the groups, if we work in groups, will pan out.
Tomorrow should be an easy day. Everyone'll be hung over from the welcome do tonight, so the teachers shouldn't be expecting much, and us sober few will stand out well against the rest, in comparison.
02/10/2005 Weird mood swings
Here's how I was feeling for most of Saturday, with no good reason.
Argh. I've gone all weird and silent again. And I don't even know what the problem is. I was fine all week, especially yesterday (Friday) which was just great.
And this time, for once, I don't just feel like saying 'Ah well', and changing the subject, like I usually do. Maybe retail therapy will help. Or just therapy.
Ms. Perry still hasn't read through my blogs, like she said she would, twice. Oh crap, I changed the subject. Or maybe that's what the problem is.
But the competition starts on Tuesday. The journalism competition, I mean. And by start, I mean the first meeting's Tuesday lunch time.
There are times when I feel so alienated. Like yesterday, at school, last period. A bunch of us were throwing a rugby ball around, and we were mostly having fun, and I was too, to start with. But then they started talking about things I either don't know, or don't care about, so I just stood there, interjecting with a comment whever the conversation came my way.
A lot of the time, things people say just sound moronic, and I know this will sound pretty hypocritical, since I'm not devoid of stupid comments, but since English Language, I've just noticed how people use words in completely the wrong context, or just don't make sense at all.
And that's how I felt on Saturday. Pretty sad, really. It only lasted till about 6pm though, when I arranged to go over to Alex's house, and then I was fine!
And now today, Sunday, for those of you who didn't know, I'm fine! Still! And I've just done the homework I thought would take me all day, in two hours, so I think I've done something wrong there. I'm all alone in the house now, my parents have taken Hazel off to Uni, her first day. Ha, she's got to get up to catch a bus at 6.50 in the morning!
I've just discovered I can touch type! I can type without looking. Well, sometimes, but it's a start.
To be announced
Writy writy write write.
Another lunchtime, and again, Funeral For A Friend are on, even with the abundance of CDs that must be in the Sixth Form's collections. Well, preferably the CDs owned by the people of our common room. (there you go, Tom)
And now I'm at home. Wasn't that quick? I didn't really think about what i would be writing, I just wanted to take the writing virginity of my notebook.
Since my last blog, last night, I've decided I should cut back on my wasted time, and concentrate harder on what matters. I'm going to try to watch less TV, limit my internet time, and, hopefully, not waste as many Free, sorry, Study periods. Which is actually what I'm doing right now, as I type this up from my little black book.
It seems that drafting what I write first in my little book isn't too productive, as a page of it only took me as far as 'to try to watch less TV'
Arsing essay
As several of you out there will know, in biology, we've been set an essay. It wasn't a big thing, and I know it still shouldn't be, since it's really just a test to see how we'll handle it. So I was just going to write the basics, and make do with whatever grade was given to me. But then Aaron got aggressive. He started saying that he wanted his essay to be perfect, and that he wanted Mr Sanderson to have no complaints whatsoever about it, so he has know written about five pages on it. And this made me feel like I should work harder on it, and try harder in general.
So I worked for four hours or so on sunday, and managed only two pages, with many distractions, of course. And diagrams. It's now an adequate three pages long, with more biology-friend
Ah yes, blogs, how I've missed you. My biggest distraction, my greatest love. Well, one of them. But since journalism's where it's at, it's where i wanna be. And on the journalistic front, once again, I bought a proper journalism notebook, as used by influential artistes such as Picasso, just something I found interesting. And hopefully Ms Perry's read through the blogs I gave to her last week by now.
That's your lot for now.
Geez, is there never any good news?
Is it just me, or does good news not get enough coverage? It always seems to be full of death and 'isms, - terrorism, racism, etc. - while good things are just left out. Or do good things just not happen any more?
For example, in the last week, I've heard two memorable stories, about death alone. The first was the story about the four men who died, running. They literally ran themselves to death. You'd think they would stop, and give up, but they didn't. And the ironic part was that they were running for a good cause. The Great North Run, and, assumably, they were being sponsored for doing so. So their deaths was given more coverage than the benefits that the race gave.
The second story is one that I've only heard vague details about, so without more information, it'll probably be no longer than a sentence or two. A man, in Kirkham, the town I live in, committed suicide, by throwing himself of the railway bridge. I only wanted to mention it, because it's so close to home. I use the trains a lot, every week, almost, and it's just not something I expected. It's like the bank robbery, at the Lloyds TSB. Not something one would expect in a small town, and now this.
But now I started to wonder - Have these sort of things always been happening, around me, but I've only just started to realise it, and become more aware of the world around me? Or is it world we live in? Has the world become such a terrible place that this sort of thing will happen anywhere, and there's nothing we can do to stop it, nowhere we can go to escape it?
It's been such a morbid blog, today, but if I had good news to report, then I would.
Today at School
Well, it seems that whoever controls the events in my life in a Truman Show- style Ste-Dome has been reading my blogs, and has noticed that nothing's happening. Or maybe the ratings are low, I dunno.
It could only happen in Drama that me saying, "Keep your clothes on," could actually turn into a good answer. Steve (Mr Nolan) was asking, about one groups performance, what the rules were in an interview situation. I mumbled, "Keep your clothes on," and everyone who heard, laughed, catching the attention of Steve. He asked what the problem was, so Tom told him what I said, and he, after chuckling, said, "Yes, exactly!" and tranformed what I said into a useful statement.
And today (the drama thing was yesterday), there was a large amount of heart fingering. All in the name of science, and education, of course. We got a heart each, or one between two, and basically did, or tried to do what we were told. The stench wasn't as vomit-inducing as I remember it to be with other bodily organs. But then again, nothing other than blood passes through the heart. I have been warned, just now, that the worst is yet to come, with the kidneys and intestines. Five points to anyone who can guess what they smell like.
I handed in my blogs to Ms. Perry, like she asked. Well, implied, really, but that's pragmatics and whatnot. Hopefully I didn't overlook anything too controversial or outrageous before I handed them in. But it might just be a matter of opinion, for example, Rob said that he thought that he thought that my piece about Muslims & Stuff (there you go, Tom) was quite racist, but my intention was only to compile different views, with a neutral position in it all. A little, mini apology there, for anyone out there who thought that it was required.
Ah yes, I've still got to find out who that girl was who did her work experience at the Gazette. If I haven't mentioned this yet, I wanted to talk to whoever she is, because she also wants to be a journalist, and, during her work experience, she had four articles published. So, basically, I want to scope out the competition, maybe get some advice along the way.
Four Whole, Blogless days
Four days since I've been on the internet! And not much has changed. No new comments for me to read, but I suppose that's because there's not been much to comment on.
Four days, and I'm stuck for a topic? I suppose nothing that I can write about has happened in those four days that I can write about. Except in Biology. I thought we'd get off free and easy, since it was a minute before the bell was to go, and still no homework had been set. But Mr. Sanderson managed it. He set us three things, one of which was a huge-seeming essay. An essay on Biology. I had no idea of how to write it. It was intimidating, until I actually thought about it. Hazel had done exactly the same essay, and explained that he doesn't expect miracles, he just wants an idea of how we'd cope.
Has anyone else noticed a primary school that's taken security to a scary new height? Kirkham & Wesham Primary School has. They have things that can only be described as 'Spikes of certain death', although a theory goes that they also double as meat-seeking missiles, which fire at the fatter children, to teach them a lesson. After the spikes have struck them once, though, there isn't enough meat left on them for a lesson to be learnt, and it becomes apparent that they are really just for sadistic purposes.
And then the sign falls away, to reveal the true name: Kirkham & Wesham Maximum Security Primary School.
I really don't know what's happened today. And I'm not complaining, since I was tired and quite depressed at home for the last few days, it was time for a change.
Meat & Journalism
Well, I've done the dirty. Today, I ate meat. Maybe if I actually told my mum I didn't want ham, I wouldn't have had the problem. I just couldn't be bothered taking it off my sandwich myself. Ah well, no one needs to know, it's not like I'm publicly writing it or anything.
Better news, however, on the journalistic front. We've been writing biographies of the idiolect (the words they regularly use) of someone else in the class. I did Rob's and he did mine. So the teacher, Ms. Perry read through what Rob wrote about me, and noticed journalism was there. She asked me if that was what I wanted to do, and after I told her it was, she told me about a Political Journalism competition that was going to be run, with a prize of going down to Westminster to see the goings on. It wasn't so much the prize that got my attention, but the judging. I want to see how my writing compares to that of others of a similar age. She went on to advise me that if I was interested in getting properly into journalism, I would need to put together a portfolio of articles that I've written. So I have. After removing any content that is irrelevant, or too explicit, I'll print it off. All twenty-odd pages of it.
Also journalism-rel
Teething problems
I've been customising myspace even further. Well actually, it was just an attempt to put a logo on my media player, but as you can see, it didn't work, except for the remains of it at the bottom of the screen. If anyone's any good with HTML (at least i think that's what it is, it's in Notepad, if that helps), then some help would be mighty handy.
12/09/2005 A few things to sort out.
It's been a slow few days for stories. Well, that and I've not seemed to notice things in the same way that I usually do. And I've not been encouraged to write as much. I've had so little energy. And I think I've become a hypochondriac after seeing a diabetes advert on TV. The symptoms were very general though: drowsiness, and something else that I can't remember, but isn't unusual to suffer from.
My Media Player won't develop a skip button, but if you listen through them then you can hear what's there. And if you don't like it, tell me. The selection was pretty limited, though. The site that hosts the files doesn't take WMV's, that most of my music's in, only MP3s, that I recognised, so if anyone has any MP3 songs they want to have put on here, just tell me.
If you're not a regular, or on my contact list, then can you please set your space to 'Public', so I can actually view your space, and repay the favour by leaving a returning comment
10/09/2005 What they want to hear.
I've been thinking about this for a while.
A lot of the responses that people give to each other are just what they want to hear. It applies to so many situations.
Such as small talk, you ask questions like 'How are you?' just to make conversation, most of the time, like if you are talking to someone over the internet, you don't really care if they're alright, if you can even tell, and then the only response that they give you is 'Yeah, I'm fine, thanks', because they know that you don't really care. Questions like that are just filler questions, to, hopefully, proceed into an actual conversation. They are mainly used out of politeness, asking a question that they'd expect, so as to not be caught off-guard.
Talk isn't as small with people you know better, though, for obvious reasons, such as that you actually care how they are.
In lessons, we are only taught how to pass the exams, not how it applies to life. The teachers don't seem like they'd need to be too qualified, sometimes it seems like they're only teaching from a syllabus, like anyone who can read could do. It could even be that the exams aren't getting easier, it's just that the teachers want to make as many people pass as possible, not only for the sake of the students, but also so they get a bigger budget for passing the most students.
We've been told, recently, to ask more questions in class, so that we actually understand the syllabus better, but also so we get more of an understanding of the relevance of the work we're doing, but outside of lesson time, so we manage all of the class work.
I had more ideas of situations when I started this blog, but they've disappeared.
07/09/2005 You know!
I had an immense feeling of pride. It was our first lesson of English Language this year, with Ms. Perry.
It seems like English will be a really interesting course. I can't really explain it, the whole thing just caught my attention.
Anyway, the pride thing. Ms. Perry was talking about how we'll have the opportunity to go to several conferences, for speaks from writers, and the Chief Examiner, to get and idea of what the exam board wants. So she was talking about how useful the Examiner's speech will be to us, when she said that it will be useful to anyone with an interest in journalism. It was then that the moment happened.
Everyone in the class who read my blogs turned to me. Smiles all round from Tom, Darron and Emma (and possibly Rob, but he was at the opposite side of the table, I didn't manage to see).
So that's the moment. Nothing much to other people, to them it was just a passing comment, but it meant a lot to me. Even though it just confirmed something I already knew - that you read my blogs - but also that you take an interest in me *wipes away a tear* I love all you guys!
Now how do I recover from that one?
Nothing more to say, really, which only highlights my last few sentences. A mockery, of course, but that doesn't mean it's not true.
I'll shut up now.
05/09/2005 Writers' block
As you may have noticed from the lack of blogs with a subject, I've not really had a lot I can write blogs about in the last couple of days.
There have been several subjects in the news of recent weeks that would be a suitable topic, such as the damage caused by Tornado Katrina, and how the government have struggled to get enough aid to those affected.
Or I could be yet another commentator on the debate on whether Muslims are Terrorists, and if those who claim to be Muslim Extremists are actually taught to do so by Allah, and if so, does that make any person who follows Islam a terrorist? This subject has been brought to the surface by the bombings of June 7th and 21st (I think those dates are correct), while the government wonder who is to blame, and how to deal with the problem of saying it's Muslims, without them claiming racism.
However, on the other side, there are Muslims with a completely different viewpoint, who say that these terrorists are not following the teachings of Allah, they are mere extremists, who could have been from any religion, it needn't have been Muslims. But it was. And what other motivation could they possibly have to want to hurt so many innocent people, than the belief that they are doing the work of a higher being? Unless they want justice to be served for the mistreatment of Muslims, but this is completely the wrong way of going about it. A lot of the time, religion does more harm than good.
There's also the subject of benefits. A lot of these terrorists live off the government that they hate, they make us pay for the attacks against us.
I should probably leave that there, the whole subject of terrorism was supposed to be a mere passing comment, before my onslaught of complaints about my writers' block began. But it seems it rapidly disappeared, to be replaced with an oh, so serious blog, about current affairs. Of course I won't get much of a relevant response to this, I never do with the serious blogs, whatever the subject.
Ovaries and Out.
02/09/2005 First Day of Sixth Form
After only a few responses to my last blog, I thought I'd write a more positive one this time around. The comments were probably mostly left out because the subject matter was too depressing for the majority of people I believe regularly read my blogs.
Anyway, on with this one.
As you've probably guessed, the subject is today. My first day at Sixth Form at Carr Hill. We met up in the common room we clearly claimed for ourselves, after ditching the plan of meeting up at the old place where we congregated- down by Science. I was pretty surprised to find that most of our old group were there, I think only Tasha, Luci, Henry and Laura were missing, not that they were mentioned at all, all day. Except Tash, by Tom, I seem to remember. So we all met, and caught up, some played a bit of chess, then we got going.
Our first talk of the day, of many, with Mr. Beale. Hmm, not much to report on that front.
And I can't even remember what we did after break. The whole period between break and lunch is a blur, I just remember vaguely, some time with my new tutor, Ms Fry, and my new tutor group, 12CFY, with Alex, Darron, Jess and Maxine, so it's pretty cool!
At dinner, I followed Jess, Darron and Maxine out of school, to the chippy, but to my shock, there wasn't much of a vegetarian menu! Well, that, and I wasn't too hungry. So while everyone else got a bag of chips, I just bought a Lilt, and stuck with my 'Go Ahead!' biscuits and Chicken flavour 'Potato Heads'. Now did you really need to hear that?
I went back up to school with Aaron and Claire, and went to the common room, to find Brendan and Alex immersed in a heated game of chess, in which Brendan didn't realise when he put Alex into check, throwing the whole game off.
The bell went, signalling the end of dinner, so we proceeded into tutor, before going back, to experience our first Free period. And what a thrilling time we had. I finished Brendan's half of the chess, ending it with a stalemate, on my part, so I actually didn't lose! Then, after tiring of the broken 'Guess Who' set, and finding nothing else of interest in the common room, I pulled out the old favourite. The Emergency Frisbee.
We went out in the sweltering heat, at least it seemed like in, in comparison to the positively chilling temperatures of only that morning. We attempted a short game of Extreme Frisbee, but as you cab guess, with only Alex, Darron and I, our imaginations were not captivated for long.
We went back inside, to get ready for yet another talking at, by Mrs Clancy. She repeated the same things we'd been hearing all morning, with a few extra facts thrown in, for good merit.
We then moved on to see Mr. Ollerenshaw, which no one ever looks forward to, but we only saw him for a couple of minutes, before we had to go in for our last talk of the day.
The last talk was with Mr. Beale, and the Head, Mr. Davies. More of the same from them really, before they sent us off on our merry ways, a whole half an hour early! How generous of them!
I was shocked to find that my concentration actually lasted most of the day. I don't know whether it's because I've grown as a person; or the Omega fish oils had gone to my head (for concentration); or it's because now I actually have some aspirations in life, something to actually drive me to succeed; or some cunning mixture of the three. I think I'll continue with the Omega tablets though, just in case.
Hey look at how much I wrote on not even six hours of school!
31/08/2005 Things I've realised
My blogs of recent days have probably seemed quite self-centred, and this one won't be much different. This is because I have been my main, but not only, source of entertainment for the last few weeks. I have been left alone to think, for a majority of the time, in which time, I've thought things over, and realised a lot of things.
I've realised that I only need myself, and the company I hold, to enjoy myself. I don't need alcohol, or particularly money, although money's always useful, to have a good time. I've seen people under the influence of alcohol, and some other drugs, having a lot less fun than I, with my sober friends, as they suffer from the negative effects.
Also, off subject slightly, but I don't see a problem with being a 'light-weight'
I've also learnt that I don't always trust people as much as I probably should, I often judge people off appearances alone, and the stereotypes of the sort of person I expect them to be. I suppose it's a 'once bitten, twice shy' scenario, a couple of bad experiences with a certain type of person, and I don't trust any more, when they can't all be bad people, surely.
However, I'm not always strongly opinionated. You may know that I don't often do favourites, and in the same way, I don't take sides. For example, if there is a division between my friends, I try not to take sides, I try to treat them equally, even when they clash. Sometimes, though, I hold back opinions, even if it makes me seem like I'm not an individual, so as to not cause offence, I avoid confrontations
Of course, I'm not always best informed on the situation at hand, which means that I can't be as understanding as I'd try to be. This is probably because I don't always listen, I'm easily distracted, so I miss important details. I'll try to work on that.
Maybe that's why I'm not very emotional. I'm not often overcome with emotion, I sometimes smile if other people are, even if I don't understand what they are raving about so much.
I sometimes feel that I'm only here to watch, I only input if I feel I have something funny to say. Like the 'Ray Bradbury Theatre', if you've ever seen it. Characters joking about a film, but not changing the outcome at all.
And after all this, I'm feeling pretty depressed, so I'm gonna stop now. It was a pretty deep self-psycho-an
And I'd just like to say that the things I've mentioned aren't true for everyone. There are several people that I feel truly comfortable around, with whom these things are meaningless. And a lot of these things, I don't mean, some just seem appropriate to say at the time, but I won't change them now, as it's still a very deep insight into the way I think, and it's all very confusing
I'm baaaack
No more need to worry, I have returned, and with an hour or so to kill, I hope to get some serious writing done. Well, maybe not serious, But covering the necessary subjects nonetheless.
We return to school on Friday, although it's not really a return, we have evolved, broken free of the restrains of a uniform, of compulsory education. It's not a big change though, really, we're just in a slightly more relaxed atmosphere, but with greater pressure to do well, since most of the weaker students chose the subjects that they were better at.
It'll be good to catch up with the people I've not managed to see all holiday, but I'll probably end up just talking to the usual few, after a while.
Friday should be a doss, and that's even according to a teacher, apparently. It'll probably start with Mr Beale talking to us all, giving us timetables and planners, if they're ready, and introducing us to life in Sixth Form.
Of course this is all speculation, and the things I've mentioned should only really take an hour, I have no idea what the rest of the day will entail.
Sheesh, I'm getting bored just writing this, and you poor things are actually reading this. Now that's dedication.
Well, unless I can think of something interesting to say, which I can't, there's really no point in me continuing writing, so I'm just gonna stop.
Until next time, gerbye.
29/08/2005 A blog, for the sake of blogging
I'm sorry, my people, I feel like I've betrayed you. Well, not so much betrayed, as neglected. I only wrote for you once, yesterday, after increasing the dosage a day or two before, leaving you to go almost cold turkey.
Now I know it's embarrassing, but I won't deny that I heard you pining at my door, begging for a blog, and I'm not trying to trick you poor folk into thinking this will be some epic, Pulitzer prize winning blog, it's nothing special, a mere apology for my absence, and having a life outside of my future, in the here and now, rather than my journalist life in my future. Wow, that was a pretty long sentence. But I've written longer.
That should be sufficient sustenance until my next blog
28/08/2005 The Great Kirkham Bank Heist
By now, if you're local, you'll have probably heard something about the attempted bank robbery in the Lloyds TSB, in Kirkham.
I'm really kicking myself now. I found out about it, vaguely, from my mum, at about eleven, on Friday, the day it happened. This must have been a test for me, it could have been my first big story as an intrepid reporter, but no, this didn't even occur to me, I just dismissed the story, while being a little shocked that it would happen in merry old Kirkham. I returned to my menial existence, without a care in the world, and now nothing like this will ever happen again.
So now I'm on the lookout, I need to avenge my ignorance, and cover the next big thing, so I don't disappoint myself, and my readers again.
25/08/2005 Results
Well, it's what everyone's talking about. And writing about, unless they're too busy getting stupidly drunk at some party I wasn't invited to, probably partially because I only stuck around long enough to get my results.
The day started off, just like any other. Except it wasn't. I was awoken at about seven, either by my dad moving around, or the feeling of impending doom in the pit of my stomach. I lay there till about seven fifty, when my alarm went off. Stupidly early, I know, but it's either that, or being woken up by one of my family, and holding a grudge against them all day, from taking me from my subconcious safehaven. Anyway, after watching TV for an hour, I got ready, which took my mind away from what was ahead.
We left the house at around nine forty-five in the car. Inside was my mum, and me, with a shake in my bones and a nervous grin on my face. We arrived at school, and I walked in, with my mum shouting behind me to be quick, she had to get to work. I talked to a few people outside the doors, who seemed pleased, with their results, not necessarily to see me. I was pointed generally in the right direction, just inside really. I wandered round a bit, wondering where it was that the results were located. I found it, and my tutor, Mrs Patterson behind one of the desks, so I said a brief, 'hello', before collecting my results from Mr Partington.
I held the envelope in my hands, half expecting to have a deep and meaningful moment, where I stared for it for what would seem like an eternity, but fortunately, nothing of the sort happened, it would have taken too long. I turned round to find Mrs Gould and Mr Brown behind me, who immediately urged me to open it, which I did, surprisingly without any nervousness.
I went out, to compare results with those I'd seen on the way in, before being told that I needed to collect my Leavers' Book, and fill in my form to enter Sixth Form.
I queued for a while, before realising we were only waiting to collect a form, which needed filling in, before queuing again to hand it in. I took one to the side, and filled it in, before, accidentally, pushing in, between Rick and Tom. Not somewhere I'd want to find myself (har har). I handed in my form, with my Sixth Form classes chosen, without hesitation, even though I was contemplating changing Drama, but I realised it wasn't something that should be done on the spur of the moment. So I left them as they were.
So here are my results:
A* in Science (double award)
A's in Drama, Mathematics and English Language
B's in Graphics, General Studies, History, Music and English Literature
C's in Art and RE
I'm quite proud of those results, apparently I beat Hazel, marginally, which is always good to know.
I'm also quite shocked at my C in RE. That has to be my best grade in RE, ever.
Not sure about Music though, since Mrs Holding (the music teacher) said that I almost definitely entered with nearly an A, before moderation, so unless my entering grade changed, or I didn't get a single mark in the exam, then something's up.
Anyway, since I'm being paid per grade, I'm getting £145, which may not be a lot to you folk who work for you money, but to me; not to sound like a clichéd TV show; Kerching *does thrusting arm movement (like I know all of you are doing)*. So with my newfound riches, I shall be buying some things for Sixth Form, such as stationary, clothes, and the like.
Oh, and I have decided that my desired destination in life, is as a Photographic Journalist, since I can do the journalist part myself, and the photographs will only mean more lovely money. And my dad will only be too willing to get me into photography.
Moshers Vs Chavs
It's an age-old battle. The yobbish chavs, against most of the rest of us, and apparently, if you don't look just like them, then you're labelled a 'mosher'. Today, for instance. I cycled up to my gran's, to get something for my mum, spotting some of them, on the way. After leaving empty-handed, I cycled back, again past the chavs. Girls, by the way. According to them, because I was wearing a white shirt and shorts, I'm a mosher. Granted, my hair is quite long, but really, is it necessary to shout, "come on then, mosher" to random passers-by?
I found something that's new to me, the other day. Chav pride. No, it's not a bunch of them, marching through town chanting "we're here, we're chavs, get used to it." Quite frankly, that would be terrifying. Although it would get them all in one place, for a mass cull. For that sort of thing, a football game would be as good a place as any to do it.
Of course, in life, 'moshers' will ultimately win. The chavs may pick off one or two of us, and probably several of their own while they're at it, but the chav attitude can't be unlearnt. Moshers, in whatever form they take can always take out any piercing they have, and look more respectable, but the chavs will always be cursed with the aggressive attitude and way of life that they have chosen.
Another thing, we have so many names for them, such as 'chav', 'scally' and 'townie', to name but a few, but all they can think of to call us is 'mosher', give or take an expletive or nine.
They also don't seem to like people on bikes. I was shouted at today, while on a bike, and another person; who may remain anonymous, depending on whether or not he leaves a comment; was knocked of his bike yesterday, without even a look at the perpetrators before the attack.
Well, that's my two cents, as they say, any input's welcome. However, usually when I say that, no one responds.
Woo! New do!
That's right, my hair's been cut, the second time this year, and it's only August!
It's pretty similar to my last cut, but I'm not complaining, it looks good! No pictures for you though, you dirty monkey. You can wait till Thursday. Of course if I haven't actually seen you this holiday, you won't notice much of a difference.
I've said too much already.
21/08/2005
Update
Just a few things that have happened today.
I've been all alone since 7am, when my parents left, after making sure they made enough noise to wake me up. They've gone off to do a photography show, as my dad's quite into his photography hobby, and wants to make back some of the money he's put into it back. He has, and because he has, we all have also been frantically trying to prepare for it, if only to calm him down. At the last update, they were doing well, so unless for some reason they lose the money, they might come out of this show better than the previous shows, which have been, well, failures.
After it turned out that my girlfriend, Heather, wasn't coming round, as she had forgotten that today was her mum's birthday, I ventured out to Treales. I might as well have not bothered. There is absolutely nothing there. Except the pub. And the freaky rag dolls wearing human clothes. It's either some small-town ritual, or, now that I come to think of it, I didn't see a single person there, that wasn't in a car, and just passing through, or at the pub. Maybe the people of Treales are all cursed to live as rag dolls. Nah, there are far better curses to cast on people.
So after being all alone, with only my mind for company, as if that isn't punishment enough, upon my parents' return, I'm being forced into performing manual labour, as I haul what's left of the photographs back into the house.
In my desperation for entertainment, I turned to E4. I actually found a decent show. It's called 'My Big Fat Obnoxious Boss'. It's similar to the show 'The Apprentice', except they completely mess with the contestants, the person that they think is the boss, is actually an actor, like the rest of the company. They set them completely irrational tasks, and act in a totally unprofessional manner, and just generally have fun with them.
The boss was firing someone, and said "On the one hand, you're apparently completely unreliable," he paused. "On the other hand... get the hell out."
I saw a story on the news the other night about a guy who tried to rob a CCTV camera shop. Good plan.
Is that everything? I think it is.
Oh yeah, I think I need a haircut. It's beginning to engulf my face.
21/08/2005
Straight Edgers
Apparently I'm a Straight Edger. I read a description, and it seems I fit the profile.
You don't know what it is? Neither did I, until I read a profile on Elftown. They're people who don't do drugs, because they don't need them to have a good time.
I won't refuse a drink, if I get invited to a party, so I don't seem rude, but I don't drink excessively, partly because by the time I've forced down some beer, someone who's drunk too much comes along and makes a total fool of themselves, something that they later regret. I also don't really like the taste of beer or lager, and I have to wonder if anyone does, or if they just do it for the effects. And the moobs. I don't really want a beer belly and matching beer boobs.
And smoking. Next time you light up, just think about what you're doing. Breathing in something other than air, that the body doesn't need, unless you're already addicted, and given yourself a nicotine depletion that needs to be replaced by your tobacco. At least I think that's what happens. No really, you're just condemning yourself to a slow and painful death. And you're paying money for it. Hmm.
21/08/2005
Do I do anything?
Do I do anything? Why yes, yes I do. Aaron seems to think that I don't do anything at all, I just sit around, wasting my time away, but I don't. It's a holiday. You're meant to enjoy yourself. Even if I'm not doing much at all, I'm usually enjoying it. He thinks that my cycling trips are a waste of time, when for me, they're very much the opposite. They give me time to think, and be alone, while at the same time, I get some exercise, and explore see the beautiful things that I would otherwise simply ignore.
I also write on here, which gives me time to think, while I practice my writing, for English Language next year. I'm pretty sure this is something like what we'll be doing in, oh, two weeks, in the lessons. I need to get ready for Sixth Form. I'll do that after pay-day. Oh, sorry, I mean results day. Anyone else getting paid for their results?
19/08/2005 Swearing
Have you noticed how swear words are really over-used?
If you swear too much, they just become meaningless, the words that were meant to emphasise your anger, or your point, become every other word. And then you only use them because you think it makes you sound hard, or rebellious, or because your friends are all the same way. If you're heard speaking like this, when calling someone a c**t is actually a term of endearment, it's hard to take you seriously, you might as well be calling us "big meanies".
It's no wonder you're all unemployed, if you speak like that, you'd intimidate any customers or colleagues, if you did actually manage to get a job in the first place, since you're all underqualified
This is, of course, all an intricate attack on chavs, and all they hold dear, - their cider - not through anger, but through transferred resentment from my dad, at all the yobs who our taxes are wasted on, if it's not on their homes, it's on their prison cells.
'Where's this going?' you may wonder. I do too, honestly, so let's just leave it at that.
17/08/2005 Damn chavs
I was at the bus stop yesterday, waiting to go into Warton. It seemed like a normal day, and it was, really, I'd done the same thing a few times before. There was something in the air. The chavs came out in their masses. Some girls passed me, wondering aloud if I was a guy or not, people were just going about their business. But there was a definite buzz though.
Then, two guys, riding along the pavement, on a moped, one with a helmet on, the other with only a cap to guard his thick skull. But with the way he was wearing it, which was barely at all, it was merely perched atop his head, it wasn't going to stay on. It didn't. They stopped, out of my view, and the guy went back to collect his hat. Unfortunately, he glanced at me to see me looking at him, since all I had to entertain me was New Found Glory in one ear.
He had a problem with this, apparently you should never make eye contact. He walked towards me, claiming I said something to him. I tried to tell him I hadn't said anything, to get rid of him. But he was one of the aggressive ones. He carried on advancing on me, claiming that my denial that I said anything, was actually me calling him a dickhead, and pushed me into the road, towards oncoming traffic. I stepped out of the road, finding myself with my back against the bus stop. He pressed himself against me, looking up at me. "You think you're big do you?" As I towered over him, "you think you're hard." Or something along those lines.
Somewhere along the way, he had dropped his cheap cider. My fault, of course. Or so he claimed. He called some friends of his over from across the road, to back him up, and told them that it was my fault he dropped his cider, and made the bottle split. He told me that as it was my fault, I should pay for it. Fifty pence. Because I was catching the bus, and of course, because it wasn't my fault, I resisted, saying, "I don't have any money spare." One of the backup chavs chipped in, "'I don't have any money spare'? Is that mosher talk?" (By the way- what the hell?!)
After some threats, I decided it was easier to just give him the fifty p, just to get rid of him, and pulled out my wallet as he struggled to count to five, my deadline before he "cracked me one".
He calmed down, slightly, as he saw a tough looking girl over the road watching, and decided he'd done enough, so he walked away, while three of the girls who he'd beckoned over asked if I was all right.
The girl, a short while later, drove past, stopping to ask if I was alright, before telling me she'd go and sort him out.
I was a little shaken, but all that had really happened was the colour draining from my face, as the adrenaline rush kicked in, and the small dent in my wallet.
It was amazing how much like Devvo he was. It's on fat pie, if you haven't seen it.
Do you think that counts as robbery? If I was threatened to give him my property?
And do you think it's going too far to say that chavs are terrorists? It seemed like that was his aim to me.
15/08/2005 Warning: I write in sentences.
Pleeeeease don't write to me in slang or text language. I'll only have to decipher what you're trying to say, by which time I'll have lost all interest in replying, or listening to what you have to say. The occasional "u" is ok, but when it gets to this sort of standard "dat is wot a was jst sayin bout," it's time for you to start to learn English. I'm not completely innocent to talk like this, I admit it, there have been messages sent, with grammar and spelling that I am not proud of, but it was all in the name of getting the most into my 10p text. But, as you can quite blatantly see, I've seen the error of my ways, and gone on the straight and narrow. I may omit a "g" at the end of an "ing" here and there, but that's merely out of laziness, or when I need to send a message quickly, I don't make the effort to change letters, such as from "I"s to "a"s, and it depresses me to think that some people actually talk in the same way as in the aforementioned quote, as well as write in it.
Do I sound stuck up? Or just angry at those who choose to write in 'Fuckwit'?
Vegetarianism
I've not eaten meat since before my holiday, that's about seven weeks, I think. But does that make me a vegetarian? I don't feel like one, I don't have the whole "meat is murder attitude" that Aaron has, and I've not gone out of my way to not eat meat, I just haven't eaten any. I was never big on the whole meaty front in the first place, all I ever really had that was meat McDonalds, and I hardly ever had that.
So now you know. Doesn't that make you feel better?
I know I'll get some big response from this from Aaron now. Unless he read that sentence as well, in which case he'll refuse to write anything, to try and prove me wrong.
Holidays
Is anyone else getting bored with this holiday? I need to see people more! I've only seen about five of my friends for most of the holiday, I don't know how I am with other people any more, or if I'm still the same person I was before. I've forgotten most of the stuff that I learnt in revision for the GCSEs, which makes me worry about next year, but I really can't be bothered to try and re-learn it. Not yet anyway.
I'm half looking forward to results' day, as I can finally find out how I've done, and also see some people I've not seen in quite a while. However I'm also half dreading it. I don't know how I've done, and I don't know what to expect. I can't remember how I thought I did in any exam, I only thought about during, and for a short while after each exam. I'm pretty sure I did my best, but then, if my results are bad, then it's going to terrify me for next year, if my best isn't good enough.
I didn't realise how worried I was about things, until I wrote it out. But I guess everyone feels at least something like this.
Ah well, no point fretting about it now, that can wait till the night before results' day, when I s**t my guts out. OK, I'll try not to do that. I might need my guts if my results aren't bad.
10/08/2005 Vocabulary
I have recently decided that I must extend my vocabulary. It must become more fantastical, incorporating such impressive sounding words as:
Incorporating
Engulf
And many other such words that I may or may not add.
I will also try to enunciate more (speak more clearly), to further myself in my quest for perfection.
Sign up now!
As you will have recently heard, through national Press, we are at war. The enemy: The Isle of Eyre. Sure, they're only a small country, and it would surely be suicide if they were to launch an attack, but they've got some oil, and I want it!
So who will join me against him? Hmm, that makes it sound like some sort of Pile-on, or a Gang Bang. Anyway, join me, and together, we can defeat this tiny, rather defenceless country! And get a nice bit of oil while we're there!
I'm also pretty sure he called us all "Doody-heads."
Ah, screw it, I'll do it myself. Unless you have some urge to rape and pillage, in which case, you're welcome to join me.
09/08/2005 Bleugh
It seems I've fallen into another slump. So far this holiday, I've been fine, getting along with my family, having fun, most of the time. But just today and yesterday, I felt myself begin to tire of them. And it's not just due to lack of sleep, in fact I slept longer tonight and last night, than before. Maybe that's the problem.
I should cheer up.
07/08/2005 Rant about nothing at all.
I never know what to talk about any more. Yet still I want write more. I'll try.
Well I got a girlfriend. There's something. And it's been fun, someone completely new to get to know, and have fun with, someone to talk to when no one else is around. Ee, just listen to me, eh?
Anywho, I went on another biking escapade today, to Lytham and back, about 10 miles. And I'm bloody knackered. It took me a couple of hours, I think, but that was with a few stops, and staying in Lytham for about 20 minutes.
This is just something I've wanted to get off my chest, especially whenever I hear Boulevard of Broken Dreams, by Green Day, as I just have: We get it. You walk alone. Or wore cologne, whichever one it is.
I saw Charlie And The Chocolate Factory on Friday. Great film. Well, Johnny Depp was awesome, anyway. One of the best lines, (you should probably only read this if you have no intention of seeing the film, or you already have) "Yes, everything in this room is edible, even me. Although that's called Cannibalism, and that's frowned upon in most societies."
I warned you I had nothing to say.
03/08/2005 Finally something's happening!
Ahh, later today, something's finally happening! I probably shouldn't say what though! That's all I'm saying.
Wow, my shortest blog ever. I feel like I should lengthen this somehow. Nah.
30/07/2005 Another lonely Saturday night in
Saturday night, and I'm all alone, as so often happens. Ah well, the day's been fun enough, the train journeys were odd. Me and Aaron annoyed a convict, who then spat on the side of the train as it pulled away. There were some eediots at the back, who we mocked at every opportunity, after seeing one of them in town. Especially one kid. He was just picked on by everyone, all the time. We dubbed him 'Prozac Boy'.
But you know the problem with public transport? The public. I'm sick of hearing people's conversations on mobile phones, they always talk so loud, over the noise of the train, or bus. And you only get to hear one side of the conversation. It would be more interesting if you could eaves-drop properly, but you can't, you only get to listen to them sound like retards as they speak baby speak, to someone you can only hope is a baby.
Am I becoming a grumpy old man? I saw the show, and now that I think about it... I sound pretty similar to them. Nah, I'm reasoned in what I say, aren't I?
28/07/2005 Stand-up
I know, I'll do some observational comedy.
If the best way to a man's heart is through his heart, how do you get there? His Culinary artery?
If you play with fire, you get burned. Can you apply the same sort of concept to Dynamite?
I'll add some more later. If I observe any more.
Improvisation
I didn't come here with anything particular to talk about, so if this is just babble, you'll understand why.
Hmm.. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, I didn't know what to talk about. But anyway, I'll just write whatever pops into my head, if anything.
Sixth form. There's a topic. What do we do? Do we get sent somewhere on results day, and get told what we'll need for each subject, or just wait until the term starts, because that seems a little late. And what if we don't get the necessary grades? What then? Do have other people been told this, or am I the only one that doesn't know what we're supposed to do? I could actually ask my sister (She asked me to actually refer to her by name, so just for future reference, her name's Hazel), since she's been through it, but, you know, she's all the way downstairs!
And is it too late to change our options, if we want to? So if anyone knows anything, please tell me!
25/07/2005 My Biking Adventures
As soon as I complained about having nothing to write about, I went out, and it struck me. As I nearly struck something. Well, someone. I went out on a venture on my bike, for no other reason than just to get some exercise.
My biking, and my desire to explore somewhere I didn't know, and had lived near for most of my life, led me to Warton. I was going down the road, when I saw my old tutor friend, Nathan Kellow. I tried to stop, but for some reason, I pulled the front brake, almost going over the handlebars, which would've caused me to severely smush Nathan.
Which leads me to another biking trip. I was, again, in Warton, and I was sat on a bench, watching people as they passed by, and seeing the funny looks they gave me. I got up, and mounted my bike. I proceeded to ride, when it seemed that I was under the influence of something. I eventually realised that my front tyre was flat, and I didn't have anything to fix it with. I returned to my position on the bench, reluctant to start my journey, walking home.
I came to terms with the fact that I had no option but to walk, so I made my way, pushing my bike, systematically getting stabbed in the leg by the pedals.
When I reached the housing estate where I live, I couldn't be bothered pushing any more. So I got on my bike, and rode down the hill, even though I knew it couldn't be good for the wheel.
Here's the spectacular bit. I attempted to go up the curb (is that right?) but without any air in the tyre, the wheel just hit it, throwing me off. But I held onto the handlebars, as the bike tipped over, I flew off, landing on my feet. I just kept on going, just kept walking. I could never do it again.
So there you have it, an amazing feat of pure luck, and one before which was... mildly interesting...
Maybe it's time I developed some... dare I say... common sense *shudders*.
Gah, I'll be thinking I need a job soon. Pssh.
21/07/2005 Are you a Goth? I think you'll find you are!
St. Mary's Catholic Church
This is a newsletter that St. Mary's church in Colorado Springs sent out this week:
If Your Child is a Gothic, Reform Through the Lord!
Listed below are some warning signs to indicate if your child may have gone astray from the Lord. Gothic (or goth) is a very obscure and often dangerous culture that young teenagers are prone to participating in.
The gothic culture leads young, susceptible minds into an imagined world of evil, darkness, and violence. Please seek immediate attention through counselling, prayer, and parental guidance to rid your child of Satan's temptations if five or more of the following are applicable to your child:
-Frequently wears black clothing.
-Wears band and/or rock t-shirts.
-Wears excessive black eye makeup, lipstick or nailpolish.
-Wears any odd, silver jewellery or symbols. Some of these include: reversed crosses, pentagrams, pentacles, ankhs or various other Satanic worshipping symbols.
-Shows an interest in piercings or tattoos.
-Listens to gothic or any other anti-social genres of music. (Marilyn Manson claims to be the anti-Christ, and publicly speaks against the Lord. Please discard any such albums IMMEDIATELY.)
-Associates with other people that dress, act or speak eccentrically.
-Shows a declining interest in wholesome activities, such as: the Bible, prayer, church or sports.
-Shows an increasing interest in death, vampires, magic, the occult, witchcraft or anything else that involves Satan.
-Takes drugs.
-Drinks alcohol.
-Is suicidal and/or depressed.
-Cuts, burns or partakes in any other method of self-mutilatio
-Complains of boredom.
-Sleeps too excessively or too little.
-Is excessively awake during the night.
-Dislikes sunlight or any other form of light. (This pertains to vampires promoting the idea that His light is of no use.)
-Demands an unusual amount of privacy.
-Spends large amounts of time alone.
-Requests time alone and quietness. (This is so that your child may speak to evil sprits through
meditation.)
-Insists on spending time with friends while unaccompanied by an adult.
-Disregards authority figures; teachers, priests, nuns and elders are but a few examples of this.
-Misbehaves at school.
-Misbehaves at home.
-Eats Goth-related foods. Count Dracula cereal is an example of this.
-Drinks blood or expresses an interest in drinking blood. (Vampires believe this is how to attain Satan. This act is very dangerous and should be stopped immediately.)
-Watches cable television or any other corrupted media sources. (Ask your local church for proper programs that your child may watch.)
-Plays videos games that contains violence or are of a role-playing nature.
-Uses the internet excessively and frequently makes time for the computer.
-Makes Satanic symbols and/or violently shakes head to music.
-Dances to music in a provocative or sexual manner.
-Expresses an interest in sex.
-Masturbates
-Is homosexual and/or bisexual.
-Pursues dangerous cult religions. Such include: Satanism, Scientology, Philosophy, Paganism, Wicca, Hinduism and Buddhism.
-Wears pins, stickers or anything else that contains these various phrases: "I'm so gothic, I'm dead", "woe is me", "I'm a goth".
-Claims to be a Goth.
If five or more of these apply to your child, please intervene immediately. The gothic culture is dangerous and Satan thrives within it. If any of these problems persist, enlist your child into your local mental health centre.
~St. Mary's Catholic Church
[Hey, it didn't have what I wrote before... That'll be why people didn't know what to do then. OK, just count up how many apply, and leave a comment. I got 27 out of 37. Not bad. That's about 73% gothic.]
19/07/2005 My Blogs
After the response that I got to my last blog (or the lack of it), I guess that no one at all is reading these blogs. Or they just can't be bothered. Or everyone in the world (or just everyone I know) is busy. So I guess I can now write any sort of crazy-ass stuff in here, and it won't make any difference, if no one's reading it. Hmm... Interesting.
Thanks for the correction, and the reassurance, Tom.
I could've sworn I wrote more of a blog than this.
18/07/2005 The long, long Summer holiday
I thought that I should probably go for a slightly less offensive subject than my last one, so here goes.
Is it just me, or is this holiday lasting ages? I shouldn't be complaining, really, usually I can't wait for the holiday, when school's tough, but now I just can't find things to do! I've spent most of the time either watching TV or on here, and it's depressing! My only company is my family, except when I occasionally go out, with people, or just when I want to get away from my family. And I can't be arsed with a job, which my parents are urging me to get, especially when it seems I can survive perfectly well on my £10 a week, and it's probably just a sub-conscious protest against having to get a job, because my sister's never worked a day in her life, and she's 18, even if she doesn't get out much.
I probably do about the same as most people, it just seems like more, since I don't get a lie-in, life in my house continues as usual, with my parents going out to work early in the morning. My mum always decides to wake me up, she doesn't seem to realise that I might actually want to sleep.
Hmm, maybe I could use my time more usefully. At the moment, this is my only way to express myself, and prevent myself from going completely insane, however tempting that may seem. I could write songs, or stories, or poems, spur my artistic flair. If I could be bothered, I would. Maybe I'll just use my time to get fit, I did randomly decide to cycle about 5 miles, which wasn't so tough, even though it's been a while. But the seat is a real pain in the arse. Literally.
So, to conclude, if anyone near me wants to do anything this holiday, please, feel free to ask me, I'll probably be available.
By the way, is anyone actually reading any of my blogs? Could you leave a comment if you read this one, so I know.
17/07/2005 JoHos
We actually had some Jehovah's witnesses at the door today! I've been around Jehovah's witnesses since primary school, and I've got nothing against them, unless they try to convert me! If you know me, you'll know I'm not at all religious, so this came as quite a shock.
I went to the door, wondering whom it could be, and saw these two people brandishing leaflets and a Bible. The guy closest to me did all the talking, showing me quotes from the Bible, about Jehovah, and how 'we all face dark times', religious stuff like that. He talked for quite a while, and I struggled to keep a straight face. He said 'goodbye', left me a leaflet, and as he reached down to pick something up, I thought, "Whoa, why are you bowing to me?" I was relieved when I saw he was just taking something away.
I went into the living room, to see what Claire and my sister thought. As soon as I saw them, we burst into a fit of laughter, and I dumped the magazine thing on my sister, which Claire was desperate to read. Purely for comedy reasons, of course.
I will surely be smited by the God of Doorknockers now.
Sorry if I offended anyone (Just thought I should add that)
12/07/2005 My Career
If you know me, you'll probably know that I don't know what I am. Or rather, what I want to be. I suppose that my A-level options will seem pretty random to most people, but it's the stuff that I'm good at and/or enjoy. I've recently been thinking that I need aspirations in life, in the long-term, mostly thanks to Aaron mocking me for my lack of them. I've been watching TV, for some ideas as to what I could be. Journalism appeals to me, not just from watching TV, and seeing all of the places that the presenters get to go to and all the things they do, but also because I enjoy writing, which I have discovered pretty much just in writing these blogs, and in English lessons over the years.
What do you think I should do?
Of course I could follow the dream I had when I was a bit younger: to become a detective.
Or my dream from even before then, to become a train driver!
And of course, and you other guys will really hate me bringing this up if you read it, but I could always become a rapper! I did gain some useful experience in Year 6, when I rapped about school life, along with Aaron Fletcher, David Hartley, and Michael Clark, we were the Prefect Rappers! Yeah! ... Good times..
Holiday Part 3 - Return of The Ste
Thursday 7th July
Me and Aaron went to a waterpark on Thursday. Or at least that's what my parents will tell you. We were actually dropped off there, but when we saw how little there was to do for £8.95 for the day, we were put off. We saw that there was another price for if we just wanted to go in for two hours, which was about how long our attentions would last, but that was about £7, so it just wasn't worth it.
So we went off for a trek to Torquay. It looked like a really long way, all the way along the coast of Torbay, but it only took us a couple of hours. I thought that if we were gonna be out there for that long, I might as well use it to work on my tan, since so far it's only a tan were my jeans and t-shirt doesn't cover, so my arms and face. Anyway, we walked, and walked, and walked some more, and on the way, there was of course, no escaping the shameless tat. I bought some of those exploding banger things, and a beaded necklace, and Aaron bought some bracelets, which broke as soon as we left the shop.
We were walking, and I'm pretty sure it was because I was topless, but these girls drove by, and one of them stuck her head out of the window, screaming 'WOOOOOOOO' at us. Which was funny.
We got to Torquay, and realised we had pretty much nothing to do. We found ourselves in a magic shop, and were dazzled by some simple card tricks, which we bought.
We left Torquay pretty soon after, tired, and went back to the cottage, finding ourselves watching Shaft. Heh, Motherf*cker. Not as good as House of a Thousand Corpses though!
(Ohmyf*ckinGah, i wrote all this out already, but it didn't save it. Arse. So I took this from somewhere it did save. At least I don't have to write it all out)
After a while of watching the film (42 minutes in, by the DVD's clock), my parents came in, so we turned it off. It didn't really seem suitable for them. We never did see the end of that film.
We ate, and went out. We found ourselves sat on a bench, looking at passer-by, and being told to cheer up. Scary. This Chav girl walked past, looking at us. Me and Aaron returned the stare. She walked away, saying that "I just got evils of someone that doesn't even live in our country". Which, of course, we laughed at. I hope she heard. When we told Alex, he joked that she might have meant 'county'.
Friday 8th July
This was to be our last day in Devon. When I heard, I didn't want to leave, since we'd only seen our new friends once or twice. We had originally planned to stay there until the Saturday, but my dad couldn't be bothered, so when it seemed the decision was final, we went along with it.
I dragged Aaron to Torquay again, against his will, after we'd packed, for no reason which was apparent to him. We walked, and, by no accident, ended up in The Pit. We messed about in there for a while, and went on the computer, for our last bit of money, before getting ready to leave. I left my details with Jim (the shop owner), in case any of them wanted to contact me. So far, nothing.
We went back, after realising the time, to catch a ferry, and arrived back in Brixham a while before my dad wanted us to be back, so we could set off back home.
When my dad got back, from looking for us, we left.
The journey back was an odd one. It went faster than the journey there, for some reason. We listened to some old 60s songs, on tape- retro- and sang along, or made up words to the songs we somehow knew, while Aaron asked about each song "Is this The Beatles?" Which was fair, since they were all obviously trying to sound just like them. There were also lots of traffic jams, but we made it, possibly because my dad was going about 80mph wherever he could!
We got back at about 9pm, after being in Devon for almost exactly six days, having arrived and left at around 3pm. Just a little fact for you there.
Well, if you managed to get this far without getting bored, you deserve a reward! Here, have a cookie. Ah, I've finally finished. Now I have NOTHING to do. More blogs!
10/07/2005 Holiday Part 2 - The Two Tow...ns
Monday 4th July
Hmm, not much to say about Monday, really. But I'll try to drag it out, so it seems like more than it actually is.
We got up, and did general morning stuff, and then we went off, to catch a ferry into Torquay. So we did. Yes, we managed it that day, instead of just staying in Brixham all day again, which would've been thoroughly boring.
We wandered round, thinking we'd only find more shops trying to sell us more shameless tat. And there were, but only a few, nowhere near as many as Brixham. No, the shops in Torquay are very similar to those in Preston or Blackpool. The whole place looked just like Blackpool, except somewhere you'd actually want to go, as it's only sparsely populated with chavs. We also noticed that there were a lot less old people than in Brixham, as we had seen that pretty much the whole of population of over 60's were going to Brixham, on a single ferry.
After a while, I actually thought we were in Blackpool, it looked just like it. Except clean. And with a blatant drug culture. I could've got so stoned. But I didn't. There's easily available 'shrooms, in shops, and you could by seeds for Cannabis plants. Eeh.
Me and Aaron walked about for a bit, looking for something a bit different, not just shops that are in every town, and we found it. The Pit. A hobby shop type shop, with cards... wait, no, I'll give you a tour, that'll be easier. OK, as you walk in, there's the counter on the left, and directly ahead is a food counter. On pretty much all the walls, there are games for almost every console, for sale, with consoles around to play them on, before you buy. In the middle is a big box of cards, and past that, more consoles, and videos and DVDs, and computers available to go on.
I think that's it for the tour. Oh, and the shop owner's called Jim, and he told us that there were a few people we might get along with, who come in pretty often, so we waited for them for a bit, then when they didn't show up, we went back to Brixham, to drown our sorrows in the pizza that was waiting for our tea.
Tuesday 5th July
Tuesday saw our return to Torquay, in the hope that we might find the people that Jim told us about. We went straight to The Pit, and waited. And waited. Finally they came; Sam, and his girlfriend, Sam. Confusing. We talked to them for a bit, they juggled, with Aaron's juggling balls, and we threw the basketball around a bit. That's pretty much all we did from when they arrived till when we left. We arranged to meet on Wednesday, but that's a different story altogether.
Wednesday 6th July
We went to The Pit, to find that Sam (the guy) had actually beaten us there, and was on his own, but was apparently gonna meet his friend, Antony there later. Antony arrived, which we didn't actually realise, since he didn't introduce himself at all, he just ran off with Sam. They ran off, apparently because a guy in the shop was this guy called John, who Sam had stolen Sam off, and he was a bit of a psycho, as we saw in the few minutes he was there, as he said 'ah, f**k' as he just knocked some paper off the table.
John walked off, pissed off, and Sam and Antony returned soon after. We were later joined by their cool lesbian friend, Amy, who seemed a lot like Claire, in some ways, but I won't go into that.
Me and Aaron had a laugh with them, and they seemed quite like us, using lots of innuendo and sarcasm, and for a bit, the way Antony and Amy fought made them seem like a couple. It was only later that we were told she's gay. Anyway, Sam left, telling us that he was just meeting Sam, and we stayed there, thinking he's be coming back. He didn't. Antony phoned him, and he found that they were on the way back to Brixham, without us! Probably for some alone time. Naked alone time.
We eventually made our way back to Brixham, and we went to Amy's house. We listened to some chowns, as they say, and watched an awesome film. House of a Thousand Corpses. So weird. By Rob Zombie, check him out!
Me and Aaron left her house at about 9, starving, and tried to find our way home, off some vague directions. We found our way home, but it wasn't without it's injuries. I was brutally attacked by the churchyard gate, i still have the bruise and the scrape to prove it! But I soldiered on, and we made it home, and... that's about it for Wednesday.
Thursday 7th July
Me and Aaron went to a waterpark on Thursday. Or at least that's what my parents will tell you. We were actually dropped off there, but when we saw how little there was to do for £8.95 for the day, we were put off. We saw that there was another price for if we just wanted to go in for two hours, which was about how long our attentions would last, but that was about £7, so it just wasn't worth it.
So we went off for a trek to Torquay. It looked like a really long way, all the way along the coast of Torbay, but it only took us a couple of hours. I thought that if we were gonna be out there for that long, I might as well use it to work on my tan, since so far it's only a tan were my jeans and t-shirt doesn't cover, so my arms and face. Anyway, we walked, and walked, and walked some more, and on the way, there was of course, no escaping the shameless tat. I bought some of those exploding banger things, and a beaded necklace, and Aaron bought some bracelets, which broke as soon as we left the shop.
We were walking, and I'm pretty sure it was because I was topless, but these girls drove by, and one of them stuck her head out of the window, screaming 'WOOOOOOOO' at us. Which was funny.
We got to Torquay, and realised we had pretty much nothing to do. We found ourselves in a magic shop, and were dazzled by some simple card tricks, which we bought.
We left Torquay pretty soon after, tired, and went back to the cottage, finding ourselves watching Shaft. Heh, Motherf*cker. Not as good as House of a Thousand Corpses though!
09/07/2005 Holiday Part 1 - The Wandering of Brixham
Well, if you've been wondering where I've been, you can probably guess from the title why I've been away.
OK, if you didn't, I've been on holiday. It was to Devon. I didn't really think it would be too special, just pretty much the same as the holidays to the same place in Cornwall since I was four. But it was. Probably because this year, I got to take a friend along, Aaron, instead of having to rely on my endless charm and wit to make a friend, which is damn tiring.
This is how the week went:
Saturday 2nd July
We set off later than usual, at 9am, rather than 4am, since it's not really anywhere near peak holiday time. We (oh yeah, the "we" I refer to here is my mum, my dad, and me) picked up Aaron from his house, expecting quite a big suitcase, since he had warned me that morning. He walked out of his house with a huge, solid suitcase, there was no way it would fit in, at least without taking everything out, and starting again.
So we set off, starting our six hour-ish journey, from the Northwest, all the way down to the South coast. It actually seemed to pass faster than usual, with Aaron there, we just talked about random crap, and played some games, like Trivial Pursuit, and anything else that was even slightly portable.
We arrived at about three, and went into the cottage, for our first look round, aside from a virtual view. The living room was odd. Well, it still is, I suppose. Anyway, there was a section of the room with blue, orange and red decor, like a kids' mattress or something. The dining room was generic dining room style, and the kitchen was a similar standard.
Upstairs was a different story. The first floor, that is. The bathroom was fine, and my parents' room was, too, except for the en suite shower that leads straight into the room. My room was the best though. The master bedroom, it couldn't have been my parents', since you had to go through it to get to Aaron's room. It had a huuuuuge king-size bed. Ohhh, I need one! And my view was amazing, right over the harbour, you could see for miles, it was awesome day and night.
Anyway, after we'd looked through all of the rooms, and all of their many cupboards and drawers, and seen all of the many clocks and vases, we ventured out, into the wilderness that is Brixham. Very hilly. The contents of Brixham: shops that sell shameless tat; food, which was mostly fish&chips, and ice cream. All of the other shops were CoOps. OK, maybe not all, but there were a hell of a lot. About six or seven!
That was about it for Saturday, with the time we had remaining, and since sitting around for ages is very tiring.
Sunday 3rd July
We got up, eventually, at about 10.30am, which is probably the latest I've ever slept in, it's just so boring, especially if you can't sleep.
The original plan for Sunday was to go over to the more greatly populated and shopulated town, Torquay, by ferry, but apparently we'd barely explored Brixham, so we spent another day there. So it ended up pretty similar to the time we actually spent in Devon on Saturday, just wandering up and down, exploring the many, identical, shameless tat shops. Some weren't too bad though, I managed to get a decent basketball for £2.39 in a sale, and some sunglasses, just for when we left the dark shops, to stop myself being blinded. I also managed to get a cool studded belt, for £9, which are about £20 anywhere else. Which was good.
That's about it for Sunday, and by the end of it, we had thoroughly exhausted everything there was to do in the shops of Brixham, except for the pirate ship, which seems just like a boat which had been turned into a glorified shop, with an entrance fee.
01/07/2005 Ugh, Leavers' Do 2
This was the Carr Hill leavers' Do. It's as much for me to remember it, as for me to tell you lot.
It started off fine, everyone was just meeting up, talking, comparing who looked better, and seeing if anyone actually came in a better car than our Rolls Royce (with a driver called Jeeves!). No one did, of course.
Then we went inside, had some drinks, as you do. The meal started, and everyone rushed to grab a seat with their friends. The first course came, berries and melon. Then the second, chicken wrapped in bacon, and stuffed with what was possibly garlic. The third course, strawberries and cream.
At that point I was still having fun.
We had a quick listen to the music, before rushing outside, upon realising what it was.
I spent most of the night walking from one person to another, just wanting someone to talk to. So many different people. There was Claire, Alex, Rob, Henry, Tom, Lesley, Laura, Darron, Rick, Smithy, Luci, Tash, Rosie, Maxine, Chris, Danni, Bharat, and probably others that I've forgotten. Sorry guys.
You know I noticed something last night. It was only people I knew well that actually made eye contact with me. Everyone else just looked straight through me, it was weird. Was I even there? It's not like there's something wrong with me, is there?
So by the end of the night, I was pretty tired and bored, and depressed at being totally invisible to most people. On the bus I just didn't talk. People seemed pretty weird to me. Like I really wasn't there. I didn't talk, I just listened to everyone.
I got in at 1.30 this morning, after I called a second taxi, whose driver I actually talked to, but it was probably just to be polite. I was woken up at about 8.30 this morning. Maybe that's why I feel like crap.
29/06/2005 Leavers Do
Ah, the Leavers' Do's tomorrow. I'm ready! Except shoes, but meh, I'll just be cheap and wear school shoes!
I actually got a haircut! My gawsh! Apparently I look like one of the Beatles, but at least now it's tidy. It looks a bit short, but that's just compared to how it was before. It should be good though, tomorrow, I mean, there are more of us going to this than went to the Christmas one, I just hope there's enough space for us at a table though. Must take a camera.
Who's going to Sixth Form next year? At Carr Hill, that is. Can you leave me a message if you are, and if you're doing any of the same things as me, please? I'm doing Biology, Physics, English Language, and Drama, on the off-chance that you actually didn't know.
Comment! Yes, you, Bitch!
27/06/2005 Moooooosic
I've added soooo much music to my PC today. I just pulled out some of the MP3 CDs I've never bothered to look at before, and actually found some really good music on them! Some are the CDs other people have given me, others are from Computer fairs, with the top 40 albums for a month on them (not as bad as it sounds), and they only cost £10!
I now have:
Ash, Alexisonfire, At The Drive In, Billy Talent, Blink 182, Bloc Party, Bowling For Soup, Brand New, The Bravery, Caeser's Palace, Choking Victim, CKY, Coldplay, Dashboard Confessional, Emery, Evanescence, Fall Out Boy, Fear Factory, Fightstar, Finch, From Autumn To Ashes, Funeral For A Friend, Good Charlotte, Green Day, The Hives, Hoobastank, Hot Hot Heat, Incubus, InMe, Keane, The Killers, Lostprophets, Maxïmo Park, Muse, My Chemical Romance, New Found Glory, Queens Of The Stoneage, Razorlight, Red Hot Chilli Peppers, Senses Fail, Spineshank, Stereophonics, Story Of The Year, Sugarcult, Sum 41, System of a Down, The Thrills, Thursday, Tsunami Bomb, Underoath, The Used, Yellowcard, Zebrahead, {Turn.the.Sky}
There you, that's everything on my PC at the moment. If you like or want any of it, just ask! It should be quicker to send now I know how to Zip it (thanks Rob)
26/06/2005 A-Levels
OK, at the moment I'm down to, for A-levels, do Drama, Physics, English Language, and Biology. But I'm really not sure any more. I mean, I'm not sure what use Drama will be to me. It'll be fun, yes, but I'm not sure if I need it. And Biology. I'm not bad at Biology, but I don't really like it, and I don't know how well I'll do next year. Sure, I'll probably have enough help from Hazel, my sister, who's doing it at university, but I don't know if I can be arsed.
I don't really know what the other options are, either, I just picked the ones that seemed good at the time. Meh, I can always change at Results day, right? Right?!
Hypocrites.
Argh.
I give and I give, and what do I get? Nothing.
I asked for something off one of my friends yesterday. I didn't get it, because apparently, I should buy it myself. This from a person I have given loads to, without asking for anything in return. Yet still this happens.
Maybe I'll think twice next time.
22/06/2005 I JUST WANNA SLEEP!
Every night I am awoken.
I cannot sleep. Every night, it comes to me.
Noise.
One thing or another, always wakes me, or stops me getting to sleep.
Birds. Chirping at any time they like: up to about 11pm, and as early as about 5am. Do they have nothing better to do? And it's always the same noise. "Do doo do do" (OK, it's not 'do's, but that sort of thing. <My Gah, there it is now!>)
And if it's not birds, it's people. Cars, starting at midnight. Who goes anywhere at midnight? Maybe it's that weird guy next door, who never leaves his house, and seems to have both genders. Or maybe there's 2 people. He's probably nocturnal.
Anyway, back to drama. I say back to, I mean start.
Horlicks? Never! Another thing: that damn milkman! What does he think he's doing?
20/06/2005 I can write my name!
Type Your Name With Your...
Thumbs Together: strephen
Nose:sadtrewp[oihje3wnb
Tongue:ew6tep,urenj
Chin: saztr6g5ew3pohgbye3wnbhg
Foot: st5e3wphyuen
Eyes closed and one finger: stepgen
Back of your hand: seytrp;[jhnrn
OK, I guess the title was wrong, I can't write my name. Try it!
19/06/2005 Big Fascist Brother
I was revising history, you know, as you do, when if all you've done for at least the last year is write the Squidgy Chronicles. Anyway, I was revising- well, learning- history, and I noticed something:
Hitler put the following people into concentration camps:
Prisoners, priests, 'work-shy' (chavs), politicals (anyone who might cause a disagreement), Jews, tramps, homosexuals, the mentally ill, and travellers.
Does that sound familiar to you?
Big Brother, anyone
Wacko Jacko's "innocent". With a name like that, how can we believe him?!
Did anyone else hear Wacko Jacko's lawyer saying that "Michael has told me that he'll never have children in his bed again". Wait, isn't that what he'd just been proved innocent of doing? Hmm, something's not right here! And, as you'll see on the link below, not only is Jacko a cradle-snatcher (harsh, but probably true), MJ is also an evil Sith Lord. No denying that!
Here it is: http://spaces.msn.com/members/dangerm0use/
It's on the Blog page. Hope you don't mind, Tom! And if you do, too bad! Hehee
15/06/2005 Chav Political campaign
Choose Chav.
Choose no job.
Choose no career.
Choose a dysfunctional, violent family.
Choose cheap cigarettes, crap modded cars, white cider and fake Burberry.
Choose poor health, high cholesterol and state benefits.
Choose a rat infested council estate.
Choose no education.
Choose tacky flammable marketstall sportswear.
Choose hunks of worthless 9crt 'gold' jewellery.
Choose attacking pensioners for their money.
Choose gangsta rap and ruling the playground like a tough hood, when in reality you're a fucking coward.
Choose hanging in the bus shelters with the other losers, spitting on and vandalising everything in sight, stuffing junk food into your mouth.
Choose the embarrassment of 50 fucked up chav brats you only spawned to gain extra benefits.
Choose no future.
Choose Chav.
Thanks for that Tom, now we know what they stand for! (originally from chavscum.com)
14/06/2005 chavs
Something we were talking about in the English revision class: what does chav mean?
We've got the definition, it's even in the dictionary, sure it's not that accurate, but it's there. But what does Chav mean? We were talking about it because Mrs. Evans had heard something on the radio about it. People had phoned in, saying it's an acronym, "Council House And Violent", (which appalled Mrs E, for some reason), another was "Cheltenham Average," created by the snooty posh Cheltenham women, a name for anyone who wasn't them.
So what do you think? Any ideas, just leave a comment on here.
13/06/2005 Kirkham club day
Kirkham club day. AKA Kirkham's way to show it's closemindedness towards other faiths. Sure, I'm not religious at all, but if Britain is supposed to be a multi-faith society, how can other faiths live here when all other cultures are shut out?
Gah, I just wanted to go to Preston, there was no escape from the Jesus battle standards, I feared for my life. Then there were what seemed to be a display of whores throughout the ages, with women dressed like Victorian prostitutes in the parade, and also the Chavettes, the whores of today, who I'm told weren't in the procession.
And I saw all that in however long it takes to rush through all of the Bible bashers from near to Londis, to the train station. Oh, and while we were waiting, we saw some rebellious Scots, obviously another tribute to the past, as they went in the opposite way to where everyone else was marching!
The whole thing shows how people are still stuck in the past, what is it, the 600th anniversary of Kirkham. Score. And the sad thing is to see the amount of people who actually care!
Maybe they're just in for the carnival, and in the hope to stab someone with their Lambrini bottle, or to steal a wallet and blame it on the Carnies.
Just randomly, WHEN WILL THE CRAZY FROG AND THE BIG RINGTONE FAD JUST DIE?!?
09/06/2005 Exams and stuff, generally
OK, Ste's number one fan: now I'm worried!
Anyhoo, I was just wondering how everyone else was finding the exams. GCSEs, I mean, anything else, and you can babble your nonsense elsewhere. Just as I do.
Is it just me, or are the exams not as hard as you expected? Look:
Art: Well it's art, how hard could it have been?
Music: Meh, could have been worse, but its too long ago to remember now, like two weeks. Anyway, it turns out i walked in with an A/B, so that's better then I expected!
English Lit: Probably the hardest one there's been, but that's only because I'm not that good at Lit. I think I did quite well, for my standards, anyway.
RE: DON'T CARE
Science Paper 1: Pretty standard, I didn't really notice a transition between the sciences at all!
General Studies: General Knowledge. 'Nuff said.
Maths: I actually thought it wasn't that bad, the first 7 questions or so were straightforward, then the rest were slightly harder, but not impossible. Obviously. It's a bit unfair otherwise.
English Lang Paper 1: I actually liked it. My description was fun. My story was a bit dumb, but the spelling and punctuation were accurate. And I managed to make it about a guy who didn't know he was being trained as a spy, even though he was being sent 'across mine fields, under barbed wire, and on the shopping list was weapons grade plutonium'. Good Times.
Graphics: Much better than any of the practice papers. Probably because there were only three design questions, max, and the rest were theory questions. Oh, and there wasn't a restriction on the amount of colours you could use on any of the design questions, was there. WAS THERE?!
History: Not that hard either, I wasted so much time revising for it, seeing how much of the information I actually used! Especially seeing as I am NEVER going to use it again. And that's a promise.
Well that's the last one I've done so far, and now there's only 6 left!! As far as I'm concerned, the hardest ones are over, and the huge block of exams this week means that most of the exams are over and done with!
07/06/2005 Ste's Lil Stalker?
OK, who the hell is 'Ste fanatic number 1!!!'? Just cos it wasn't who I thought it was... hmm, who else could it be?
Anywho, while I'm here, I might as well rattle on for a bit. Don't you think that 'Breathalyse' seems like such an Americanised word? "You've been breathalysed! Ooh yeah!" OK, I don't know why it would be Duff Man saying it, it just seemed to fit.
Ah, memories, I heard something being said I've not heard in ages: "It's Meester Greg, with a leg for an arm, and an arm for a leg!" *Pictures it in head* HA! Wow, now that would be COOL! and oh, so useful!
Aah! The Pot Noodle Horn!
06/06/2005 Ste dumps his load
Ugh, depressed. At home, at least. At school, I'm fine, I'm with people i actually wanna be around, or i could choose not to. At home, I can't. I try to shut myself away, claim I'm revising, which I generally am, when I'm not doing anything, and there are just constant disturbances, like yesterday, I was having a break, watching Doctor Who, as you do, and Hazel walks in, and sits down, having never watched an episode before, just to annoy me, i swear.
It all began on my sucky birthday. Maybe, because that day sucked, the rest of the days of my life as a 16 year old will too. Or, it's just a teenage thing. Or an emo thing.
I need a shrink
No, really, I mean, a double personality, depression.
Oh... just realised how pathetic I sound. Meh.
That's why I'm glad Hazel's not going on holiday with us this year. I just need some space. Lebensraum, if you will.
Hmm, there was more I wanted to talk about... (Now you Ste fanatics will know that I usually plan this stuff out before I put it up) Ah well, if it comes to me, I'll put it up, but otherwise, you'll just have to grin and bear it.
05/06/2005 Star Wars rant
We saw Star Warts Episode III: Revenge of The Sith(alis), last night. Utter Crap.
We met just before the film, everyone was happy, i got some Maltesers, £2.40 for a small bag! Anywho, we went in and of all the people, put of 7 or 8 others, i got stuck next to my sister. I made the most of it, trying to have fun like I usually do at a boring film. I just couldn't, she sucks the fun out of EVERYTHING.
So i had to make my jokes to myself, in my own head, almost exploding. OK, i exaggerate. Slightly.
So towards the end of the 2hr 10 minute-ish(!) film, i had started renaming some of the characters, rearranging letters and stuff, I managed to make Analik Skywanker, try it. Oh, and don't forget Gay3PGay, the most useless, campest (if that's a word, and if it wasn't before, it is now) robot with a man-bulge in the whole film. Ohh, and there were plenty! Probably...
So I unleashed my many Star Wars jokes on the others, because i couldn't while the film was on, and apparently I was showing off. When the others left, leaving Claire, Hazel, and me. I was just messing about, and Claire said that, when they put headphones on, that they weren't being very social, so i karate chopped the wire between them. So Hazel shouted at me, because "they have clips on," and also I should "stop showing off," because my friends had gone. And that was exactly what she was doing because Claire was there. What a hypocrite.
So she ruined a perfectly good night.
02/06/2005 Morbidly obese
Morbidly Obese.
What a great phrase. Unless you are. Then I guess it kinda sucks.
Well, there you go.
13/05/2005
Revision
"Live off the fatta the morbidly obese." How's that for paraphrasing? Ha, shove that up your smoke and pipe it, Steinbeck.
OK, if what I'm saying doesn't make total sense, it's cos i'm just writing completely off the top of my head. Yeah, OK, so I usually go through what i'm gonna write, thinking up crazy or dumb things to say on here, but so what?!
Argh, everyone's trying to make up revise, and i just don't wanna! I blame those damn food companies. i thought they were just out to please me, and look out for me. But no, they just want the cash. The cash and the LADIES! Money-hungry bastards. Try and take my frisbee will you? Ok, that last thing was totally unrelated, but still.
Damn you aspartame! I'll 200 times as sweet as sugar you!
26/04/2005 grandparents
They came round the other day, for my Aunt's birthday. We had a thrilling game of Scrabble. Wait, no, it was two. Lucky me. Well, at least it was more interesting and mentally stimulating than usual. Speaking of oldies, I saw my other grandma on Tuesday. For the first time since about Christmas. It may seem mean, and what i say next will sound childish, but... She started it! OK, she doesn't approve of my long hair, so she calls me a 'donkey', even though I bare no resemblance to a donkey, that I know of. Anyway, the way I see it is, if she's just gonna insult me when I do go there, why should I? So I don't. Oh yeah, and when I did see her on Tuesday, she didn't say a word to me. Ah, well.
Aaron came round another other day, for an intensive revision sesh. That's what we planned, anyway. We wanted to work from 10 till 8, in 2-hour blocks, with breaks in-between. We managed 2 of these, before we got bored. It's amazing how much we got done though, not doing the usual Saturday stuff, loads more free time. Oh, guess what else we did! Aaron actually suggested we play Scrabble! Coinky-Dink? I think not.
Hopefully that was the first of many revision sessions, cos then I'll actually be encouraged to revise! I should really start taking them more seriously on my own.
22/04/2005 Thoughts of the day
OK, where to start?
Well i got my suit on Tuesday, for the Leavers' Do/Ball (or "prom" for the more American(ised) of you out there). It's nothing special (from what i remember), but it looks OK, and actually fits, unlike pretty much all of the rest of my clothes.
I went to the Young Enterprise presentation evening last night. We were easily one of the best ones there, if not the best, in some areas, but what did we get? Jack all. Damn you, Badger Man! So that was with the people in the presentation, and anyone else who could be arsed going, i.e. Harris. I suppose it wasn't a total waste, it looks good on a CV, and we get some sort of qualification, methinks. Meh.
I was just looking at one of my friends' pages, emojames (www.myspace.com/emojames, I think). it's frickin hysterical, check it out! Ah, yes, and finally, the constant bout of questionnaires that have been going round. I'll try to get some of those up on here, just in case you care. Here's a sneak peak:
"Do you believe in yourself? No, I'm an atheist.
Oh, yeah, now this will be the final thing, I promise, I think. The Squidgy Chronicles! It's a little project that Tom, Rob, Emma and I have been working on in history. Well. What else is there to do? Anyway, we basically just rip into Fuller, and anyone else who springs to mind, or says anything that could be twisted to sound how we want them to sound. Basically, making Fuller sound racist in everything she says.
25/12/2004 first blog!
Ok, I've added loads of tunes, but i'm not really sure how this works!
Talk to me if you like what you see though
well waddya know? no seriously.