SUTLS

Today, I woke up and did some ironing. I hate this for three reasons. Firstly, I'm not very tall though it never usually bothers me and I never think about it ever. Until I do the ironing. When I lay my trouser leg out flat in front of me, it shocks me how little of the ironing board it takes up.

Another reason is that I feel like a sell out. I can sense me, aged 10 years old, standing in the corner wearing a he-man t-shirt looking at me now with the same look I use when I see somebody buying a Keane album. Despite the fact I have been ironing things for quite a while now, it's like buying socks and kitchen utensils: I have no business doing it. It still feels like my Mum's job. Ironing makes me want to go out and by a sticker album.

After I finished and ate a kinder egg for breakfast (the toy was a car, which is only slightly less disappointing than a jigsaw puzzle) I decided to try and watch an episode of 'Everybody Loves Hypnotoad' which is an extra on a Futurama DVD I got. I wanted to see if it actually had any effect on me.

I concentrated hard on the sounds for 5 minutes and stared directly into his eyes, but I just got hungry. It's still on in the background as I write this. Because today has not been on for long, not too much has happened. So, I will write a bit about this week. There are very few continous storylines on this page, but I always feel the need to update people on what happens with rewards assemblies for year 9 form groups and that took place a few days ago...

Suffice to say, it was another storming win. It turned out tht I didn't reaally cheat with anything in the end - my rallying speeches would have made nazi germany quake though and this has made my competitve edge rub off on the kids in my group.

Out of the 5 celebration slips drawn from the box that contains every slip won by every child in the year over last term, we claimed 3 of them. Each name was met with a boo from the rest of the year 9s and their form tutors. When the overall winners were read out for having the most reward points, there was more booing as I stood nodding with my arms spread out. Everyone has accused me of cheating since, including my own form group. My growing status as pantomime villain has just made victory all the sweeter.

I had a big argument with one of the tutors recently. Without going into detail, it stems from her being a complete dick. This is not just me saying this, but she was COMPLETELY in the wrong which everyone agrees with. However, the powers that be backed her in the argument and later apologised, saying it's only because she scares them whereas they know with me, a later apology would be enough for me to shrug it off and say it doesnt really bother me. I just shrugged it off because life's too short and it didnt really bother me.

Her form was the previous champions and she can't take the fact i beat her. She is jealous and bitter and I delight in winding her up because she can not take a joke. I waited til she was in ear shot before asking the head of year if, "seeing as we're the best form for two terms running, we could have an afternoon trip to the cinema". I'm pretty sure he hates her as well so said yes enthusiastically. She butted in with "yeah, well, we're the most improved, we deserve sometheing". She got a non uniform day for her useless rabble. I didn't need to say anything or even make eye contact. This was victory unlike any other and she knew it. This raises the stakes high for the next assembly before Summer as it is now all out war.

The new Mario Kart is out so we all played that in the evening. Joe Rowan and Lloyd have deicided to be vegetarians. Lloyd is honest and says its rubbish, but won't lose his challenge against Joe. The first one to eat meat before a year is up has to pay the other one ten pounds. They have been doing it for a week and a half. Joe and Rowan sit there going on about how great vegetables are and how they don't miss meat at all. That is definately a lie - I saw the longing in their eyes when I got the hot dogs out.

We then went to watch [Rec] at LNCC (late night cinema club - not an official term). It's very good and very all glory to The Hypnotoad, all glory to The Hypnotoad, all glory to The Hypnotoad, all glory to The Hypnotoad, all glory to The Hypnotoad...

I have been without internet and I have also been very busy recently so I have not been able to write about what I have been doing. However, today was the last day before Easter holiday and I have found that if I squash my computer up into the corner of my bedroom near the window, I can get somebody else's wireless. So I will document my continuing adventures by writing about my day.

I woke up at 6.18 exactly. I know this, because I looked at my phone straight away. I was tired, but not could not fall back to sleep, so I got out of bed. It was hot and the birds were singing which made it feel like Spring. Because I was up so early, I took my time about getting ready. I even had a cup of tea and a Brazil Nut coated in chocolate. Nuts give a slow release of energy so I thought this would be healthy

I left the house at 7.15 and walked across the square to catch the bus. This was unevenful, other than the fact I picked up a copy of the Metro.

I arrived at school and got some photcopying done. The head of english was in front if me in the queue to photocopy a picture of Spider Man. When I went up for tutor time, I encountered problems. I have a naughty boy in there who is permanently on the brink of exclusion, but I have adopted him as my sidekick. He has a mohawk and his own you tube channel where he gets up to such shenanigans as pretending to piss on people or sellotaping his entire head and pretending to be a zombie. He's pretty funny.

He was raging round the class telling me he was going to nut the head teacher cos hes a fucking knob. They had apparently just had an argument. I told him not to and said i'd give him chocolate if he didnt. During period three, he was called in from his hole in the isolation room to have a meeting with our two headmasters. He didn't nut either of them so I gave him some chocolate. I like to think that is good form tuting.

I also did my reward point totals for the term. I cheated again so I could win. With one year 9 form tutor I have a friendly rivalry so it's important to beat her. One of the others I think is an absolute fucking moron who I hate, so it is even more important we beat her form. We did last time and she sulked that its because she didnt include some sub total she was whinging about. Tough fucking luck, you condescending and miserable slag. She's such a jobsworth, she won't have it in her to cheat and in this dog eat dog world, sometimes you have to.

I've just realised that this all actually leads on well from my last entry - it deals with the same themes, characters and emotions, even though they're months apart.

At break time, I went into the staffroom only to find someone had stuck a sheet with pictures of me all over it on my desk wall. Each one had a caption which insinuated homosexuality. It was next to an illustration of me entitled "Gaylord", a photo of me with a speech bubble saying "I like men" and a caption of "The last of the great gayolutionaries" and a picture of spiderman (my nickname around school because apparently i look like Peter PArker) which said something about going to a gay bar. On one of them I was wearing a hat called the gay hat. The (slap)head of english sat chuckling in the corner. He is getting too big for his boots - he has been relentless this week. I can try and slate him for his one dimensional offensives, but they are pretty good.

I have easter to think up a reply. It might involve my sidekick and a bald wig. Of course, I personally wont mention youtube but if it happens, it happens.

The runner up in the ongoing year 9 arm wreslting championships challenged me. I accepted and only just won. That child is inhuman. The title holder wants a piece now so I will do lots of arm training throughout the holiday. Later on in the day, the female champion (who beats most of the boys) challenged me. I said no for health and safety reasons as i didnt want to hurt her. In reality, there was little danger of that, I just didnt fancy losing to a 14 year old girl. It's her last day too, so that danger is over.

When I went down to the school gates for crowd control at the end of the day, someone shouted at me to ask how Mary Jane was. I said obviously fine as my spider sense wasn't tingling. They didn't know how to reply so they laughed moronically before shouting "PETER PARKER!" and running off. Man did I feel stupid.

I was supposed to go to London straight after school, but the train is 20 pounds cheaper at 6am tomorrow so I opted for an early morning journey. Instead I went to the shopping centre. I went on the escalators in jessops and walked down them quickly. It made it seem like I was going dead fast. I didn't go there just to do that though.

I haven't done this page for ages because of the Germans invading with their microwaves. All their sausage making and wooden frogs have cut oof our internet connection so I can only go online from other people's houses. Now I am at Rowans in what may be an Arctic Supreme.

However, yesterday I woke up at 7.05, even though it was a school day. Regular viewers of this site may realise that this is late - it's because it is the last day of term before Christmas Holidays and I couldn't care less. I didnt arrive at school til twenty past 8!!!

Today, I tasted victory. It was the christmas term awards ceremony and we won. Some people may recall my crushing defeat at last years one and my vows for revenge. This year, we crushed everyone and now the other tutors are seriously bitter. We celebrated like a horde of savages, unlike last years form, and I punched the air and winked at my closest rival. Now people are out to get us.

One tutor was walking around muttering about how its only because she didnt give any reward points to her group in the morning for diary checks etc (I give mine 3 each without fail, one more than last year) and another began whinging about how its only because she couldnt get totals off her best pupils in time (I invented mine up for any absentees and made sure they were high). I also waited til the evening before the assembly to submit my results and sent the class out on that day with one final mission of begging teachers for them. The deadline was supposedly a week earlier.

I have had threats and people have tried snitching on me to the head of year. To be honest, all this childish bickering makes things taste even sweeter and I will just cheat harder next time. Now I know how hate fuels Fred Durst in such a focused way.

But best of all was still to come. Students get green slips for doing something particularly good. All the green slips for all the students are kept and five are picked at random for a prize draw of a ten pound amazon voucher. Four were drawn (none from my group) and there were no surprises or complaints about who won. Then the last one was read out to stunned silence. After a couple of seconds, our section of the room started cheering, closely followed by everyone else.

I have the naughtiest child in the school, but I think he is ace. His slips about bad behaviour are always comedy gold. Here are a couple:

1) After school detention for cracking open a raw egg in class, adding flour, sugar and salt and drinking it, despite warnings not to. When I asked why, he said "because someone said it was good for me"
2) After school detention for removing the contents of someones pencil case when they were out at the toilet and glueing it all to the wall. Then glueing their work to the table
3) Isolation for going on a french field trip and going up to a vending machine mechanic and saying "je deteste le french"

Anyway, he had one green slip in there, a pity one from me and out of the hundreds available it was picked out. When his name was called he woke up without a clue what was going on. We pushed him up to the front to receive his prize from his arch nemeis ("he's a gay boy, I 'ate 'im"). The rest of the assembly was filled with laughter as he slouched at the front with the parade of good kids looking more out of place than anything i'd seen before. He was puzzled and uncomfortable. At the end, he returned to me and said "What's going on?". I told him to go on to his first lesson and go back to sleep.

The day passed in a blur of doing nothing constructive. After a year long bet, I was given a make over by one of my year 8 classes. I looked like a cheap whore and couldnt remove the mascara and glitter.

At lunch time i was invited to the library party to eat party food. We started packing it away just as my year 11s turned up. They were hungry and wanted some. I told them no and taunted them with a half eaten chocolcate cornflake cake. Someone crept up behind me, stole it and then ran off cackling. When I caught up with her, I challenged her to actually eat it, bearing in mind it may have my spit on it. After a short deliberation, she did. I laughed at her, told her I had herpes and walked off looking like a backwards slut.

I dont have herpes.

School finished and I was happy. But the evening was to get bad - a less severe sequel to the worst day in recent memory that happened last week (i may do a retrospective blog one day, it was a good one). Both involved my grandad and the van.

First thing, we went round to my polish grandads to wish him a merry chistmas. His wife and my gran died about a year ago. The night was getting depressing from the start when he began talking about how great marriage is. Then he got out old photos. Kate commented on how happy everyone looked at my Dziadek's wedding and that set him off crying. But he would not rest until he'd wound himself up into a blubbering wreck and took us on a tour of the darkest edgar allen poe tribute ever to be told in bad broken enlgish.

"I hear her walking at night, I hear her voice and sometimes call back, whe's with me all the time but I know I will never hold her hand again! I pray to her, and hope she can hear, I can't stay away from her grave though don't know what good it does... I try to be strong though I'll never be happy again!"

We kept trying to change the subject but this was a slippery task, literally everything could be linked to marriage or death or grandma. The safest option is usually pointing out the hideous picture of me as a baby that greets you when you walk in the front room. But that was grandmas favourite picture. She put it there, like all the others, so he can't move it and dusts it frequently. Then rowan played a dancing reindeer. Grandma bought that and used to love such toys. Rowan did a dance to lighten the mood. Dziadek used to love dancing with Grandma and met her in such a way. I asked him what his plans were for Christmas Day. His deadly serious response was "Sitting here crying". It was horrible and uncomfortable and significantly worse than Grandmas funeral.

We eventually left but knew he was just going back in to look at his wedding photos and we all felt depressed. We didnt fancy leaving him like that, but knew there was nothing we could do. The best thing about all this, is that Grandma and Dziadek genuinely seemed to hate each other.

In such situations, theres only one solution - We went to McDonalds. I was convinced the cashier was flirting with me until Kate pointed out she was just laughing at my make up. Then, driving away, the van broke down. We sat in the car freezing for fifty minutes, waiting for the AA. Not even the mcDonald's tea or the rave could warm us up. When the AA man turned up, we thought he was a twat, so wrote "cock end" backwards in the rear window for when he was towing us. it turned out he'd be towing us from the other end and was actually quite nice.

We got back to Rowans at about 11 and were all cold. I decided to stay here rather than brave the walk home. I am now on the settee in an Arctic Supreme sleeping bag, contemplating whether to take Dziadek up on his offer of dinner today.

Today, I woke up at 6.39 and burst my toe. When my alarm started going off at 6.45 I ran back to my room. This was to get to the alarm quickly and to warm me up because the flat was freezing. I caught my foot on the kitchen door frame. I had a split second where it didn't hurt, but I wasn't fooled and braced myself. Then it came. Although this is meant to be a polite blog, stubbing my toe hurt so much that I started calling the doorway a fucking cunt, i think more than once.

I tried to put the pain out of my mind and hobbled to the bathroom to get ready. I noticed I was leaving a trail of blood behind. I looked down at my foot and saw that my little toe had split down the side and had chunks of flesh dangling from the back. I felt a bit sick. I dressed it up, finished washing and putting my clothes and shoes on.

If it hurt before, trying to walk whilst wearing shoes was a lot worse. Unfortunately it was cold outside and going to work with bare feet was not an option.

When I got to school, I could feel the blood squishing around in my sock. I went to the man in charge of organising cover teachers and requested a day off to go to the hopsital. When I told him the damage, he gave me his blessing. I set some work for the classes I'd be missing and hopped back down to the bus stop so I could get to A and E.

The waiting room was a dour place full of people cradling their arms or raising their legs. They were all staring mournfully up at Tricia on the TV. I deliberately sat in a place where I couldn't see the screen as I don't like to be reminded that such useless and parasitic people exist. The nurse came out and called a name - "Amreen Saddiq" or something similar. Nobody responded. She came back out and tried again ten minutes later, but was met with just more blank looks. On the third attempt, she cornered the only Asian lady present and insisted it was her turn to be seen. The lady said she wasn't the patient in question. A small argument ensued - of course she had to be lying as she was Asian and it was an Asian name.

The nurse only gave up when she consulted the receptionist to ID her and was told the real Amreen had left. The imposter sat down laughing and didn't seem at all bothered by what had just happened. Maybe the NHS had a reputation for racism (as well as everything else) that I wasn't aware of. If I'd have thought quick enough, I could have been Amreen. It would have saved me half an hour's wait.

Then some commoners walked in. The man was dirty with a crap moustache and the woman was angry. She sneered at everything. Clearly, life owed her something. They had three children who were obviously all born within nine months and a day of each other. From the foul mouthed lashings they received, I found out that they were called Sienna, Kylie and Jordan.

Sienna wanted a chocolate bar from the machine. How dare she quietly request anything from her mum. Jordan left his seat to stretch his legs and was met with an almighty and genuinely chilling telling off. The three kids all sat there peering down through their greasy hair and thick glasses at the floor, looking dejected. It was as if they knew what life had instore for them. I could smell chip fat.

Dad was trying to work the payphone but to little effect. Mum stared at the rest of us viciously for doing something we were all unaware of. I suppose she blamed us for not being hateful and bitter. Then, in a whirlwind of profanity, the pair of them stormed out dragging as many of their doomed children they could carry. Apparently, the fucking phone fucking jacked his forty pence.

Five minutes later, they returned to pull a frightened Jordan away too, but not before fixing a stare at the payphone and calling it a wanker. I'm sure they get more than 40p a week for doing absolutely nothing anyway, so they should probably just calm down and be a bit more philosophical about the whole affair. Their hasty retreat showed no signs of injury so I concluded that they were more than likely just there for the warmth.

The nurse came out again and called for Mr, before trailing off pathetically. I knew she was calling me, my surname is difficult, but after the previous incident I wanted to see how she'd deal with it so I kept quiet. She shook her head at the piece of paper she was holding. There was a man with a square head wearing a builders jacket in the room and with my name being Polish, I half expected her to grab him by the ear and march him off to the consultants room. But she didn't. She gave up and called for Tom. In my years of strangers struggling with my name, this was perhaps the laziest and most useless attempt at reading it out. I got up and wonkily trudged to the next room.

I went through the motions to find out I'd broken my little toe only, but in three places. One of the cuts around the back of my toe was deep enough that apparently you could see the broken bone through. I'm not flexible enough to notice this by myself and am glad. I would have been less calm about the whole ordeal if I had known this. The thought of walking on bare skeleton horrifies me.

They gave it a lot of attention, but told me they had to do so as the risk of infection was present. I wouldnt want to end up losing a leg or dying because I stubbed my toe, so I soaked up all their advice whilst thinking of a more manly way to explain how I injured myself. I'm not sure if there really is a heroic way of breaking a little toe. I had my toes glued back up and strapped together and then left. Though it was only lunch time, I went back home instead of back to work. I watched Neighbours, Doctors and Diagnosis Murder, occasionally breaking for cups of tea or food.

I also found a bit of flesh on the door frame.

Today I woke up at 6.42. This was deliberately early because I have bought a replacement for my broken kettle. I havent had a nice cup of tea for ages because the old kettle was broken and I have had to boil the water on the cooker. I am unable to decipher the science behind it, but water cooked in a saucepan usually creates a frothy layer of scum when I put a tea bag in. I wanted to be up so I had enough time to have a drink free from this tyranny.

I also had some honey nut loops, but not until after I had washed a cleaned my teeth. I left the house at 7.26 to catch the bus. When I got to work, I did very little. I sat in the library first and stared at nothing in particular. Then I went in the staffroom and stared at a window. Then I wandered around a bit before going up for form time. I have had more naughty people added to it and as a result, tutor period is hard work. In fact, in order to have a positive male role model, the naughtiest boy in school is now under my charge. I like him because he thinks everything is gay and everything thinks its funny. To put it into context, if, for example, a computer mouse is not moving smoothly, then that computer mouse would be gay because it thinks its funny.

Everyone was late. When I quizzed them why this was, they said it was because Jesus lives. I was confused. It turns out there had been some religious nutters at the gates creating a scene and telling everybody just that. One child's father threatened to punch them and the head teacher even got in an argument. He said that he was the head and that the people had to leave. They said they wouldn't as they had permission from a higher power. The headmaster asked them if they'd been in touch with the local education authority. When they scoffed at his pagan ways, he informed them they'd obviously not gone high enough and called the police. The party was eloquently broken up when one child shouted "He's dead! Get over it!". With the police just arriving, they took the hint and disappeared. It always seems to be that God loves the strange ones the most.

The rest of the working day was fairly straight forward. I was given a cookie by one of my year 11 brats and then got into quite a bitter argument with a friend of theirs over whose biscuit had the most chocolate chips in. It wasn't mine. However, with half the evidence being eaten, I was determined not to lose this battle of wills as it was against a regular sparring partner. I don't think anybody was fooled.

At lunch I saw one girl (daughter of the angry parent who threatened the Christians) storming around shouting "I'm going to punch that fat cow in her face." She was talking about the librarian. She ran off and slammed her thumb in a set of fire doors so hard that we couldn't open them to free her. When we eventually did, she had to go straight to hopsital, bawling her eyes out. This is what my mother calls the naughty fairies.

I then taught my year 11 class for the second time in the day. Being intelligent enough to learn from my mistakes, I now know that chcoclate chips are gay and decided not to turn biscuit eating into a contest again.

I ended up getting a lift home so did not have to use the buses. I was grateful as I cannot help but fall asleep on them. I got in just in time for Neighbours. The new beginning and ending to it is absolutely rubbish. To be fair, I always think that when they change it, but I cannot see myself warming to this one. The new characters think they're funny too.

I loafed around eating hot dogs and Quality Streets (though the nice ones are all gone and I'm having to go through the purple chocolates with nuts in) before going to meet the others at the band practice room. We were unsure about whether we'd do much as Lloyd is only just out of plaster, but it was quite good in the end. Rowan was in a vulgar mood and kept doing crude things to any object that stood in his way. I was not impressed, even though Joe was. I came home and had what turned out to be an Ovaltine flavoured Quality Street. Disappointed, I went to bed.