tag:witwap.blog.co.uk,2009-11-09:/"Tom, mate your blog thing is ace, you are a quality writer, seriously, in terms of style at least, Catcher In The Rye isn't much different to your blog. Quality." (Stuartalanrook)MokoFeed2009-11-09T11:00:51+01:00tag:witwap.blog.co.uk,2009-05-31:/2009/05/31/what-i-did-today-6205844/T_Stash2009-05-31T09:21:15+02:002009-05-31T10:28:04+02:00 <p>Today, I got up quite early, even though it's half term. I wanted to go to the shops before town got too busy. As is often the case before nine in the morning, a tramp with fully intact clothes was staggering in circles around the square, staring at the sky. Sometimes he looks at the floor, but it was a nice day and he was obviously treating himself.</p> <p>I bought two pairs of trousers and two pairs of shorts. I'm not really thin enough to fit into any of them comfortably. I bought them because I hope one day I will be, but it never really works out like that.</p> <p>The other week, I was eating popcorn and cracked a back tooth on one of the kernels. It was not pleasant and has been hurting ever since. However, I only just managed to register with a dentist yesterday. I rang round lots of places and the NHS is not interested in me, so i had little choice but to go private. As with many things in life, my final decision on which dentist i went with was based on ghostbusters. The one I chose was called Ackroyd.</p> <p><img src="http://canadianactors.info/Dan_AykroydSHOP.jpg" alt="I could only hope" title="I could only hope"></p> <p>I got on the bus to go there and was faced with a tough decision. There were no entirley spare seats and I had to sit next to someone. In this scenario, you only have the walk to the back of the bus to make up your mind and you can't tell if someone is a Venkman just by looking at them. There were a lot of fat people on this bus spilling out onto the seat next to them. Also, this bus goes past a mental home, so there were one or two of them, as well the tramp that I recognised from town this morning and a strong smell of armpits. This was like Russian roulette and I had to make a decision before I was sat with the badmen on the backrow. I threw myself down next to a hippy. She smelt of armpits.</p> <p>The tramp infront couldn't look at things. His eyes were not focused and moved seperately. A mile or so later, he got up to leave. You could hear the gasps around the bus, for he had no back to his trousers and he was not wearing any underwear. Nobody quite knew wear to look. When he got off the bus, I noticed his eyes change as he had a moment of clarity; he seemed to panic when he noticed his flies were undone. All embarrassed, he zipped himself up and shuffled off.</p> <p>I'm trying to think of what circumstances would lead to a pair of trousers getting like that, but it's hard.</p> <p>At the dentist, I got told off for eating too many sweets and fizzy drinks. I've always had good teeth, but not today - I have to come back next week for a couple of fillings. On top of this, the cracked bit of tooth is floating around in my gum somewhere, which makes me a bit sick to think of.</p> <p>The dentist told me how things were and I tried to claim I ate healthily all the time, but he'd just stabbed, scraped and x-rayed the evidence and saw straight through my web of deceit. I leaned over the back of the big dentist chair chewing my top lip and frowning as he called me out. It was the reaction of a small child. I knew the truth and so did he and I fully deserved being talked to like an idiot and the £166 bill I received.</p> <p><img src="http://www.czechdentists.com/dental_chair_modern.jpg" alt="I tried hiding behind it, but there was no escape" title="I tried hiding behind it, but there was no escape"></p> <p>I also knew Ackroyd was not going to be dressed in a boiler suit and I knew he was not going to cross the streamers on my teeth before dragging the bad one into a light trap. But deep down, it hadn't stopped me hoping.</p> <p>I picked up a bottle of water before getting on the bus. On the way home I sat drinking it in a sulk. It didn't taste of anything. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://witwap.blog.co.uk/2009/05/31/what-i-did-today-6205844/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:witwap.blog.co.uk,2008-12-13:/2008/12/13/what-i-did-today-5214576/T_Stash2008-12-13T13:56:27+01:002008-12-14T01:04:09+01:00 <p>Yesterday, I woke up at 6.43. I got up, cleaned my teeth, sorted my hair out, washed my face, used some deoderant and left the house. Someone has written "cock spray" in big permanent marker letters on the deodorant, but i still have to use it as it's the only one there. I wasn't fooled into using it for anything other than its original purpose though. Sometimes, I do nearly brush my teeth with shaving foam.</p> <p>I left the house and it was very cold.I dodged past the german christmas market, which smelled of yesterdays grease and made me a bit sick, and walked to the bus stop.</p> <p>Recently, we have lots of different people giving out the metro. The last one was great. I came to think of him as my guardian angel - he always said hello and wished me a nice day. If a tram was on it's way down the road, he'd warn me. Likewise if the weather was going to take a turn for the worse, he would let me know. Then one day, he wasn't there. Maybe he thought that he had taught me all he could and moved on. Maybe there's someone somewhere that needs him more. Maybe he just decided it was a terrible job having to get up early and stand on the freezing streets of nottingham at half 6 giving papers out to mardy tired people every day. Who knows. The new guy is very non descript. He just gave me a metro. That's it.</p> <p>The bus driver was the one that barks at everyone. When you get on the bus, he goes "ahhhh" and when you give him the money, he goes "taaaa". He gets louder and higher as the syllable goes on. I used to hate it, but now I'm buzzing. If I'm at the back of a queue of people getting on, as I was today, I always have the giggles by the time I have to interact with him. I have never heard him communicate in a different way in all the time he's been driving the bus.</p> <p>School was average. I only had three lessons and with it being close to the end of term, I did nothing constructive in my free periods. At one point, one of my tutees threw a skip at me (a crisp, not a large bin. she's only small). I ordered her to pick it up. It took some persuasion, but she did. Then, ten minutes later, I find said skip with a smiley face drawn on sitting on my desk. In other words, I found an act of war.</p> <p>I gave the skip to the girl's best friend and made her pass it on when she next saw her. Then the skip turned up on my desk again. I gave it to our student service help desk, who sent a message to the girl in class that said she had to come down there at once. This normally means theyre in trouble. When she got down, she was handed a skip. Twenty minutes later, the skip was in my tray next to student services. So I went into the school computer system, found out the girls home address and mailed the skip (now in three pieces) to her.</p> <p>I hope I don't get it back, because I have run out of amazing and clever things to do with it.</p> <p>I also had a microsoft paint drawing contest with one of my 6th formers. Last week, I won. The title was "egg cup". Once loads of teachers had marked them, mine scored an average of 9. Hers got 3.5. This week, in "parrot", I got 9, she got 8.9. Turns out she cheated too and downloaded something of the internet. In conclusion, I am awesome.</p> <p><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/media/photo/parrot/3063985" title="parrot"><img src="http://data5.blog.de/media/985/3063985_c69a24f02d_m.jpg" alt="parrot" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a></p> <p>In no particular order, I did these things too: swore at my year 11s, ate some chips, put some data in the computer, taught a class how to write their name in Japanese and drank a strawberry milkshake.</p> <p>After school, I went to Sheffield to watch Slipknot. Support bands were Children of Bodom and Machine Head. Largely, I hate metal music and had no interest in these, so we went up fairly late. Poor old Withers, who is metal to the very core, had to go up by himself in order to watch all the bands. When we met him in the arena, we were greeted with metal horns and massive two pint drink (called a gint, with a soft g), held aloft. </p> <p>This is the thing about metallers. There is no irony. The metal horns are a legitimate form of communication. Greasy long hair is not unnatractive and dirty. Stupid beards are a status symbol and black, baggy clothes are in fashion. Metallers are also incapable of change (hence why there are so many middle aged people who still act and dress like that) and they are also unable to accept other forms of music.</p> <p>I was the least metal person there. My floppy fringe, coloured, fitting clothes and big black glasses could have got me eaten, but people were all there for just two things: to take their tops off whilst beating each other up and to cheer every time they heard the word fuck. Thus, I went largely unnoticed. With Rowan being on crutches, him and I exchanged our standing tickets for seated ones and sat down to watch the spectacle. It was a good show and I enjoyed it, though was disappointed not to have heard more singles. I think having that opinion is also frowned upon by metallers. They pretend they like the obscure album thrash tunes, not the ones with melodies that everyboy's heard of, but I'm on to them.</p> <p><img src="http://sapporo.cool.ne.jp/zonelove/ChrisFehn.jpg" alt="Cock Nose from Slipknot" title="Cock Nose from Slipknot"></p> <p>As we left, most people were still half naked and sweating, walking in circles and undefined lines around things whilst grunting and clenching their fists. Every now and then, one would shout 'Slipknot!' or thrust their middle finger at something (sometimes an authorative object, such as an instructional sign or a parking attendant, sometimes just randonmly). That's another thing, metallers hate authority. You just cannot tell them what to do.</p> <p>On the way home, Pete was drunk. He mumbled something about "pissing in your shit face" to Joe before lighting a cigarette and smoking it out the window whilst we all coughed. We got home at about midnight at which point i played left 4 dead for half an hour before going to sleep.</p> <p>My favourite slipknot is cock nose.</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://witwap.blog.co.uk/2008/12/13/what-i-did-today-5214576/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:witwap.blog.co.uk,2008-08-29:/2008/08/29/today-i-woke-up-at-8-30-and-went-for-4655886/T_Stash2008-08-29T23:09:46+02:002008-08-30T19:20:04+02:00 <p>Today, I woke up at 8.30 and went for a run. It was long and I got tired. When I got home, I stripped off to my shorts and lay in an empty bath for ten minutes. This is because the bath was cool and because I didn't want to get sweat anywhere else. There was a lot of it. When I climbed out, I decided to go to the gym. I go here a lot but have yet to lift a single weight. Instead, I use the sauna, steam room, jacuzzi and sometimes the swimming pool.</p> <p>This gym is good because it is small and quiet. I used to go to a virgin gym and all the muscle boys looked at me funny when I strolled around like I was Corey Feldman. My big shorts and inappropriate t shirts gave away the fact I'm not really into shouting at people in a manly fashion whilst I try and lift physically impossible things. If you time it right at this place, you can normally have it to yourself. Unfortunately, I didn't realise today was Dawn of the Dead. </p> <p>I walked into the pool room to be confronted by an old woman's swimcercise class. They all looked pathetic and stupid and made me angry just for being there. I stopped in my tracks as they all turned round and stared at me with a look that fell somewhere between suspicion and what looked like actual hatred. I shrugged at them (not sure why) and went to the steam room instead. </p> <p>After my run, I wanted nothing more than to lie down across the seats and relax. I realised that the bench would be covered in other people's sweat, but I am only hygienic to a point so I decided to go for it. Five minute later, when I sat up, I saw a big black pube on my arm and regretted my decision. Sickened, I moved on to the sauna.</p> <p>Upon entering, an explanation was sat in front of me: Pube Man. This blog is family orientated so I will not go into why he is called this, though I'm sure you could have a reasonable guess. He left instantly, maybe in a state of embarrassment. He probably sensed exactly what had happened - I'm sure everyone that attends that gym has had one of his pubes on them at some point. I watched him move to the jacuzzi and made a mental note not to go in there. The image of the cocktail that would be bubbling around in it the minute he stepped in made me shudder violently. This did mean I had the room to myself though. Sharing a sauna with someone is like going in a lift with them and I don't like it. I have also had bad experiences. Here is one example...</p> <p>A few years ago, I was slumped in a sauna, resting my chin on my chest and picking my belly button with my locker key. A man entered in a flamboyant fashion (ie a mince), looked at me and said "ooooh, do you need a hand with that!". I think it's safe to assume he was gay - when I picture the scene he walked in on, it can't have been alluring enough to give a straight man a curious moment. In actual fact, it must have been a bit repulsive. I declined his offer, but didnt want to leave immediately, despite that being my first instinct. I didn't know whether that would be seen as an act of rudeness or homophobia. Even though there was lots of room, he came and sat right next to me. The next minute was one of the most uncomfortable of my life as I turned my head away from him (incase he was staring or winking at me) and concentrated hard on not doing anything that might inititate a conversation. In the end, I ran away. This was at the YMCA gym and was not the first such instance.</p> <p><img src="http://images.broadwayworld.com/upload/13097/Dead%20Zombies.jpg" alt="Aqua aerobics of the dead" title="Aqua aerobics of the dead"></p> <p>Just then, back in the present day, I noticed the old women were finishing in the pool and dragging themselves out. I did not want any of them joining me, so thought quickly. When it is really warm outside, I often see old people blowing on themselves or waving their hands in front of their face. They obviously don't like to be uncomfortably hot so I threw as much water on the heater as possible in order to warn them off. They wandered around the edge of the pool in a directionless manner, bumping into one another. Someone did approach the sauna and swiped at the door handle haphazardly. They missed and their hand squelched on the glass and slid down, leaving a watery stain. Deterred, the lady shambled off. After a couple of minutes, the frenzy died down and everyone slowly dissipated. By this point, the sauna was far too hot, so I left.</p> <p>In the changing room, Pube Man was in the shower. I stared intently at the ceiling and went straight to my locker, banging into the wall more than once.</p> <p>After this, I went to the library to print some stuff off. On the way I saw a proper hunchback.</p> <p><img src="http://www.bfi.org.uk/education/teaching/disability/images/03_teaching/hunchback.jpg" alt="Hunchback" title="Hunchback"></p> <p>The library used to be an exciting multicultural hub - like mos eisley in star wars. Things have changed recently though and now everyone there is Polish. I am allowed to be racist toward Poles because I am part polish; this is one better than having a Polish friend. I was annoyed because they were all in front of me in the help desk queue asking stupid questions that could not be understood and if they could, were no doubt so straightforward that anybody who had ever been out their house before should not actually need help with. This made them take ages. I had to sign up, get a new library card and book a computer, which I eventually did. However, when I sat down at the computer my password didn't work, so i went straight back to the help desk to queue up behind a fresh line of Polish people. There was an English woman behind me, muttering to nobody about how slow the queue was and chanting "come on, come on hurry up." I instantly hated her with a passion.</p> <p>She walked off in a huff and I saw her sit at my computer. It was booked under my obviously Polish name and the screen said so. I saw her fling her head back before stomping over to the queue again. Rather than waiting, she stopped a passing employee and said "Excuse me! I'm trying to use that computer over there but some Pole has wandered off and left it, so I can't". I turned round and said, in my poshest english accent, "why, I believe that's mine and I've only left it because I have a problem with my password. That is why I am currently queueing up." She shook her fat face, made a sound like a horse and then stormed off. I was glad I made my point because what I really wanted to say was "that's mine you fucking whale, get in the queue like everyone else and book one for yourself". I sorted my stuff out and then went back home. No hunchbacks. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://witwap.blog.co.uk/2008/08/29/today-i-woke-up-at-8-30-and-went-for-4655886/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:witwap.blog.co.uk,2008-08-02:/2008/08/02/what-i-did-today-4534965/T_Stash2008-08-02T22:59:56+02:002008-08-02T22:59:56+02:00 <p>Today, I woke up at 9am French time. The weather was overcast and rainy and for once, it made the temperature cool. This was nice for trying to sleep. I cleaned my teeth and washed before heading downstairs and doing not much of anything for a little while. I like having nothing to do. I know some people get bored, but most of the time I seem to be busy so I appreciate times where I can do nothing but stare at flypaper and be half impressed and half repulsed, even if this is supposedly a sign of depression.</p> <p>My Auntie Helen and her husband Tony had stayed overnight en route to somewhere else in France. I find it hard to refer to Tony as my uncle as he's only been like that for a couple of years and isn't that much older than me. It has nothing to do with hatred. Dad and Tony had decided to go fishing so made my Mum go and pick up some maggots when she went for croissants. My Dad came up with this hilarious joke - to hand Tony a stack of plates to put round the breakfast table with maggots squirming around on the second tier. He found himself hilarious but as usual, my mum was not impressed with his antics. Tony found the maggots, was slightly surprised and laughed a bit. But that was only half my Dad's joke. He then proceeded to mind game Tony. </p> <p>"Would you like a croissant Tony... have that one there. No, not that one, the one next to it". Again, Tony laughed nervously. He was then offered very specific pots of jam, cups of coffee etc, the implication being that they were all teeming with maggots. The problem is, you can never quite be sure with My Dad and Tony ate breakfast in a state of nervous awareness. There was nothing actually there, which made My Dad proud and smug.</p> <p>Helen is Dad's sister and about 15 years his junior. She knows his tricks and shared a tale from their childhood that goes like this: One April Fool, my dad tied a flag in a lavender tree in their garden. That was it. Only Helen was very young and always has been an easy target. The trick progressed in a way nearly only my Father would devise and then find amusing.</p> <p>"Helen, there's a flag in the lavender tree"<br> "No there's not. You're April Fooling me."<br> "Ah, ok, if you're sure. But supposing there actually IS a flag in the lavender tree, you would actually have just made yourself a fool with that decision."<br> Helen told us that she was young enough to actually be concerned about being considered a fool, so walked towards the window. My Dad let her get nearly there before casually saying, "But of course...". Helen stopped in her tracks. "...If, as you originally suspected, there is no flag, then in a few seconds you will be an April Fool." </p> <p>This game of cat and mouse continued for about half an hour until Helen broke down in tears screaming on the floor and my Gran (their mother) was forced to run into the room to see what the fuss was about. Of course, the fact that there was a flag in the tree became redundant. But the genius of it was, that my Dad had actaully made the effort to go outside and put one ther. Even better than that was that if you consider that he is 15 years older than her and that Helen actually remembers this, that would have made him around 19. There are only 4 other people in the world capable of this kind of thing. 3 of them are my brothers. I'm the last one, and thinking about it now, this fact makes me a bit sad.</p> <p>Eventually, Dad and Tony went fishing. Fish are rank and if I'm going to do nothing, I'll do it properly - not under the pretense I'm taking part in some kind of sporting activity. Thusly, I opted out. After a while though, I decided to run to the pond, 3.75 miles away, just to irritate them. When I got there, I kept giving my dad useless tips and telling jokes about fish and fishing. Fish kept jumping out the water in the centre of the pond, so in my wisdom, I told dad to watch for them, then throw the floating plastic device on his string to where he'd just seen one land. this meant he actually knew there'd be one around, as there clearly weren't any where he was. He gritted his teeth, but 2 minutes later my hilarious exclamation that motor pike and side carp were the fastest fish in the world gave me the response I was after; he lost his temper and told me to shut up. Then I changed tact and began commenting on his ongoing lack of success. I was totally buzzing of myself, but he was glad when I eventually left. However, this didn't happen with out an appearance from Mong Utan.</p> <p><img src="http://www.corpus.cam.ac.uk/cccbc/photos/committee/mr_tickle.gif" alt="Artist" title="Artist"></p> <p>I'd heard the legends before. My dad told me he lived in the woods around the pond and came out to either fish or annoy fishermen. His arms are an awful lot longer than they should be (like an Orang Utan) and he is retarded. I wondered whether he was communicating in French, but my parents assured me that it wasn't and that he was just simple. With him standing next to me and making me feel slightly uneasy, Dad just turned round and said, right in front of him. "Have you checked out the size of his arms?". Mong Utan started chanting something, then ran off to some other fishermen. One of my favourite things in life is watching people with stupid runs. Normally, I don't target people who I suspect of being mentally handicapped, but he WAS funny and he looked so happy that I didn't feel bad for thinking this. When he stopped, I then watched him reach out about 6 metres into the pond and catch a fish with his bare hands, before barking like a dog in the face of the permit checker.</p> <p>The permit checker then came over to us and said things I didn't understand. Dad grinned and in his best smug face said "avec pleasure". That is my Dad's humour again for you. </p> <p>On the way home, I got out the car and tried to take a spy photo of mong utan next to the permit checker. When the flash went off, they erupted in French, the only words of which I could understand were "photo" and "flash". Assuming these have the same meaning in English, I realised they were onto me. I ran away before jumping into the car and instructing them to drive home quickly. </p> <p><img src="http://www.sfca.co.uk/about/roach400.jpg" alt="These are apparently the ones Dad caught" title="These are apparently the ones Dad caught"></p> <p>Dad caught three fish. Every one was smaller than his hand. Tony caught none. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://witwap.blog.co.uk/2008/08/02/what-i-did-today-4534965/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:witwap.blog.co.uk,2008-07-31:/2008/07/31/what-i-did-today-4526867/T_Stash2008-07-31T22:55:33+02:002008-08-01T02:13:47+02:00 <p>Today, I woke up at two different times because I am in France. One time was english and this was 9.30 am. The other was French: 10.30 am. I have been here about 5 days and I am still unsure about which time to go by. I tend to flicker between the two as and when it suits me.</p> <p>I cleaned my teeth and wandered downstairs. Despite the fact this was a sleep in for me (no matter which time zone i go by) I was still tired. There is one reason for this - loir loirs. They are French rodents that live in trees by day and roofs by night. They make the transition by jumping from one to the other whilst I'm trying to sleep. This makes a loud noise. Then they squeak and race each other round the loft. According to someone who stopped by the house today, their eyes are so attuned to the dark that if you turn any lights on while theyre around, they freeze and their pupils widen over the whole of their eyeballs. This has made me think of two plans:</p> <p>1) Find out where they live and wake them up in broad daylight. Then run in circles around them so they can't sleep.<br> 2) Go into the attic with a torch. When they invade, shine it on them, then kick them in the face one by one.</p> <p>In all likelihood, Ill do neither and just get woken up again tonight. A bit because I can't be bothered and a bit because I haven't entirely ruled out the chance it cold be the Blair Witch.</p> <p><img src="http://www.nifty.com/season/mini06/photos/f_dormouse_mini01.jpg" alt="These are what keep me awake" title="These are what keep me awake"></p> <p>I went downstairs and sat at the table, doing some work. I then got emailed a news story about a space bear who, in a fit of greed, ate a whole jar of sweets. Only the jar got stuck on his head so the police shot him, thinking he was from outer space. I have a habit of changing stories in my mind to make them better and i think this is one of those times. It might have been a tub of popcorn. Either way, I spent the following ten minutes drawing a picture of this before giving up and eating a ham sandwich. This was because it was lunch in France time. An hour later, I had another one.</p> <p>I sat outside in the sun for a bit watching lizards zipping around the walls. Unlike other French animals, they run pretty silently so it's a pity I wasn't trying to sleep. Mum and Dad's friend came round and told us about a local who got a "tick on his todger". He died. His obituary must have been funny, not that I'd have understood it. I know how to order a croque monsiuer and a return ticket to Paris in French, but I don't know the French for tick or todger. </p> <p>I have never bought a croque monsiuer or a return ticket to Paris.</p> <p>In the evening, I went for a run. Round here, there's nothing but woods and hills. It was also nearly 30 degrees so if I felt unfit in England, I felt doubly so here. I ran for just over 3 miles before stopping to walk after I'd gone up a huge steep hill. I felt dizzy and thirsty as I zig zagged past a French family having a barbecue in their front garden, or jardin. They shouted something at me but I just became anxious and confused. They didn't want a croque monsiuer or a return ticket to Paris and I'm sure "run Forest, run!" is the same in any language, so I had no idea what they were banging on about. Crucially, I also didn't know how to respond except to turn up my headphones and run away. As it happens, that's exactly what I did.</p> <p><img src="http://www.gradinamea.ro/_files/Image/articole/original/024_croque_monsieur.jpg" alt="je voudrais un croque monsieur, s" title="je voudrais un croque monsieur, s"></p> <p>Eventually, after almost 5 miles, Mum and Dad came past and picked me up. We drove to a lake where I went for a swim around an island there. This took about 15 minutes and was very refreshing. Between the car and the water (and back again), I was careful to avoid todger high grass. I think this will probably be a life rule from now on. </p> <p>When we got home, we ate dinner and got attacked by probably the biggest moth I've ever seen. I'm not usually scared by these, but this one was about the size of my hand. Mum ran off screaming. I tried to remain calm, but it swooped and attacked me. It actually punched me in the face and I shrieked like a small girl before scrambling upstairs on all fours. I composed myself and went back downstairs to get rid of it. It was nowhere to be seen, so i crept very carefully. Mum yelled and I ran again. Apparently, it ambushed me and punched me in the back of the head, though fortunately I didn't feel it. </p> <p>I picked up a huge pair of gardening shears and as it charged me from across the kitchen I started snapping at it. We actually circled each other, but it had the advantage being able to move across three dimensions. Although I came close with the shears, I realised that this was going to take time I didn't have, giving him the advantage. Whilst Mothra and I were locked in our tango of death, Mum was still cowering behind the stair railing, squealing during tense parts of the battle </p> <p>Then Dad told me to turn all the lights off except for the outside one, so I did and it left. And that's all that has happened today so far. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://witwap.blog.co.uk/2008/07/31/what-i-did-today-4526867/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:witwap.blog.co.uk,2008-04-12:/2008/04/12/what-i-did-today-4033771/T_Stash2008-04-12T12:56:56+02:002008-04-13T10:00:17+02:00 <p>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.</p> <p>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.</p> <p><img src="http://minutillo.com/steve/weblog/images/hypnotoad.gif" alt="All glory to The Hypnotoad" title="All glory to The Hypnotoad"></p> <p>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. </p> <p>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...</p> <p>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.</p> <p>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.</p> <p>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. </p> <p><img src="http://minutillo.com/steve/weblog/images/hypnotoad.gif" alt="All glory to The Hypnotoad" title="All glory to The Hypnotoad"></p> <p>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.</p> <p>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.</p> <p>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... </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://witwap.blog.co.uk/2008/04/12/what-i-did-today-4033771/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:witwap.blog.co.uk,2008-03-14:/2008/03/14/what-i-did-today-3877980/T_Stash2008-03-14T21:04:36+01:002008-03-14T21:15:11+01:00 <p>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.</p> <p>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</p> <p>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.</p> <p>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. </p> <p>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.</p> <p>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.</p> <p>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.</p> <p>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.</p> <p><img src="http://carla247.typepad.com/amazed_confused/images/peter_parker.jpg" alt="Peter Parker" title="Peter Parker"></p> <p>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.</p> <p>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.</p> <p>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.</p> <p><img src="http://www.eltecelevator.com/imgs/escalator_3d.gif" alt="" title="They move anyway, so when you walk down them it makes you feel like your running"></p> <p>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. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://witwap.blog.co.uk/2008/03/14/what-i-did-today-3877980/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:witwap.blog.co.uk,2007-12-22:/2007/12/22/what_i_didd_today~3477983/T_Stash2007-12-22T12:20:41+01:002007-12-22T12:20:41+01:00 <p>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.</p> <p>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!!!</p> <p>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.</p> <p>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.</p> <p>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.</p> <p>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.</p> <p>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:</p> <p>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"<br> 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<br> 3) Isolation for going on a french field trip and going up to a vending machine mechanic and saying "je deteste le french"</p> <p><img src="http://www.chinhpham.net/forums/image.php?u=4&dateline=1130103966" alt="Egg" title="Egg"></p> <p>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.</p> <p>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.</p> <p>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.</p> <p>I dont have herpes. </p> <p>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.</p> <p>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.</p> <p>"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!"</p> <p>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. </p> <p><img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1133/750976603_ccdec363eb.jpg?v=0" alt="DEATH!!! IT" title="DEATH!!! IT"></p> <p>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.</p> <p>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.</p> <p>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. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://witwap.blog.co.uk/2007/12/22/what_i_didd_today~3477983/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:witwap.blog.co.uk,2007-11-17:/2007/11/17/what_i_did_today~3310414/T_Stash2007-11-17T14:11:07+01:002007-11-17T14:43:22+01:00 <p>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.</p> <p>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. </p> <p>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.</p> <p>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.</p> <p>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.</p> <p>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.</p> <p>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.</p> <p><img src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/165/370539947_75926a9a21.jpg?v=0" alt="Extreme wishful thinking" title="Extreme wishful thinking"></p> <p>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.</p> <p>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.</p> <p>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.</p> <p>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.</p> <p>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.</p> <p>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.</p> <p>I also found a bit of flesh on the door frame. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://witwap.blog.co.uk/2007/11/17/what_i_did_today~3310414/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:witwap.blog.co.uk,2007-11-09:/2007/11/09/title~3271672/T_Stash2007-11-09T19:23:39+01:002007-11-13T19:40:21+01:00 <p>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.</p> <p>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. </p> <p>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.</p> <p><img src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/79/267755256_79a6c60b12.jpg?v=0" alt="Apparently" title="Apparently"></p> <p>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.</p> <p>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.</p> <p>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. </p> <p>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. </p> <p><img src="http://www.bestdeal.org/Merchant2/graphics/00000010/Nestle%20Quality%20Street%20EG478.jpg" alt="A potential minefield" title="A potential minefield"></p> <p>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.</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://witwap.blog.co.uk/2007/11/09/title~3271672/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:witwap.blog.co.uk,2007-10-06:/2007/10/06/what_i_did_today~3095333/T_Stash2007-10-06T21:04:54+02:002007-10-07T12:02:23+02:00 <p>Today, I woke up at 8am. The night before, I had gone to the fair. I like to think that all the noises and lights only attract simple or common people, but that these are the main reasons I go every year (along with the food). In fact, this was the second night running that I had been. The only rides we went on were the Freak Show and the Fun House. Rowan, Lloyd and I left the Fun House battered and bruised and in Lloyds' case, pouring with blood. He had taken a running dive onto a floor made of metal rolling pins and managed to remove a huge astro turf scab from his elbow. However, he looked fairly amazing zooming along the floor. </p> <p>We had also tried to wedge ourselves into a barrel that rotates 360 degrees. We got half way round then pathetically dominoed each other into a painfall heap. The 3 of us then tumbled around inside the contraption until we untangled each other and dragged ourselves out. It was not for the faint hearted and today I can barely move my neck and shoulder.</p> <p>The freak shows main attractions are lots of boxes and windows with no lighting. It also has a 3 eyed fox. I have yet to locate the third eye, but I dont mind as I have noted it has a marble growing from its forehead. This is something you don't often see in the animal kingdom.</p> <p>We ended up going to the St John's ambulance people to patch up lloyds arm because it would not stop bleeding. It took three people and lots of paper work to put a plaster on. All the while, a woman told me she wanted to be elected mayor so she could have slaves in underpants and could cut people off on the phone. I will not vote for her.</p> <p>Today I went up to Lincoln with my Mum. I picked up my new pairs of glasses and decided to opt for the green lenses. They are relaxing because they make me feel like I'm underwater. Later I switched to the yellow lenses, which make me happy because they make it seem sunny, even when it's not. If I'm being honest, they also make me look way sweet.</p> <p>In Lincoln, we did various things. I drew a zombie in my Mums' notebook in a coffee shop first, then went to look around the town. Lincoln has a very steep hill and we walked to the top of it, then walked down again. Whilst we were doing this, we passed a watch shop. I went in because I needed a chain for my pocket watch.</p> <p>I did not really know what to make of the inside. It was all dark green and brown and smelt of museums and old. There were ancient clocks everywhere. Every single one of them ticked loudly. Because they were all out of sync with each other, it made it seem like every second was much shorter and there was something unsettling about this. The thought of working in here terrified me: the sound of clocks remind me of getting old and here there was no escape. Every time one ticks, you realise that was another second you will never get back. Even if it wasn't a very interesting or exciting second, its still gone forever.</p> <p><img src="http://www.coylesauction.com/images/Year2003/112503/beehive%20clock.jpg" alt="Clock" title="Clock"></p> <p>The shop also reminded me of the Tell Tale Heart, especially when I noted the little old man who worked in there and his horrible beady eyes. I walked past the many delicate mechanical constructions that took up spare space and approached him at the counter. Then, judging by his reaction, I asked him the most insulting question he had ever heard.</p> <p>"Do you have any pocket watch chains? I don't want anything flashy, just a chrome one or something"</p> <p>All the hearts inside the wooden panelling quickened and amplified.</p> <p>"May I suggest you go to a common jewellers, for this is a proper watch makers"</p> <p>The sarcasm and malice in his voice told me I had trivialised his profession and I should leave at once. So I went out the shop and to the slug and lettuce to eat battered carrots and garlic bread. We went in some other shops afterwards, but none that were really worth writing about. </p> <p>On the way back we stopped off in a pet super market. My favourite animal in there was a giant rabbit. It lay down with its arms and legs spread out to the side and I appreciated how lazy he looked. There was also another kind of rodent there and I think it was called a Genk. They were entertaining because they were stupid. One would run around a spinning wheel, trying its hardest to go upside down. Then another would jump in and try and go the other way. They would end up hitting each other and falling out. I laughed at how thick they were, before remembering the fun house last night.</p> <p><img src="http://www.gotpetsonline.com/pictures-gallery/small-animal-pictures-breeders-babies/rabbit-pictures-breeders-babies/pictures/rabbit-0002.jpg" alt="They had normal sized rabbits too" title="They had normal sized rabbits too"></p> <p>We stopped off at my grandparents on the way home to pick up some washing they had done for me. We didn't stay long as Joe, who had joined us in Lincoln, had to be back before sunset. This was because the headlights dont work in his car - and not because of anything more sinister like being a vampire or whatever cant stay out in the dark. </p> <p>I am now writing this because I have lots of work to do.</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://witwap.blog.co.uk/2007/10/06/what_i_did_today~3095333/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:witwap.blog.co.uk,2007-09-30:/2007/09/30/title~3061089/T_Stash2007-09-30T09:28:04+02:002007-09-30T09:33:23+02:00 <p>Yesterday, I woke up at 9am. This is late for me and I felt proud. After I got out of bed, I cleaned my teeth and washed, but took my time about it. It is getting colder but the heating will stay off for as long as possible. When I was younger and we used to go and visit grandparents for a week during school holidays, my Dad sometimes couldn't come, because of work. When we left, he did the ceremonial 'powering down' where everything that used gas or electricity went off. The bane of his life was the fridge and freezer as that had to stay on. That's where he wasted his 18p every half term. I learned an important lesson from this, though for me, keeping heating off is less to do with money and more to do with the challenge. </p> <p>I went into town to get nothing in particular. I have had an unexpected windfall of money so needed to spend some of it, though wasn't sure what on. All sorts of fun and genuinely useful things were going through my head... an X Box 360 with Halo 3, a speaker system for my Ipod or maybe even one of those GPS running watches that track your every footstep to tell you how far you go - things that would actually improve the quality of my life in a practical way.</p> <p>I went into Jessops to look at what I could get, but made the mistake of entering on the first floor, which is the make-up department. It is habited by bright orange women with massive staring eyes and lips bigger than their faces. As I walked in, they locked in on me. Hungrily at first, then disappointedly. As I wandered past successive booths, the life briefly flickered into their eyes before they fell back into their vacant trance, no doubt thinking of sunbeds and lambrini. Not being a woman, they could do nothing for me. That, and the fact that I already looked pretty rad. I did fancy some of the moisturiser though. </p> <p>Before going out anywhere important, my Dad always used to go through the man's equivalent of this department to sample scents he would never ever buy. I've always known my Dad was stingy, but writing this is making me realise how much. He is probably the second most stingy person I have heard of</p> <p>I bought nothing from Jessops, but neither did I look or smell like a common person. I kept going round town but found nothing I'd be happy to spend my money on. That is, until I walked past Specsavers. The magnets drew me in.</p> <p>There are employees who seem to genuinely get excited when I go in there. They know the family name well and they know something good is coming. I carefully selected some frames before taking them to the fitting area. I had a long conversation with a lady about how my more recent purchases are doing. We had a great time scheming about the many possibilities I could get this time around and because of my infamy, I have even been afforded the luxury of ditching the usual catchphrase of "Don't worry, they're supposed to look stupid". Not once did she try to dissuade me.</p> <p>Originally I was just going to get the lab to pick me some lens colours of their choice as a nice surprise, but after looking through the book, I decided on a yellow pair for the square brown frames and another pair with aquatic green lenses. I am working my way up to mine and Lloyds' latest suggestion - a MASSIVE pair of circular round glasses with yellow lenses to make me look like a fly. They cannot be far away. I also want a pair of prescription glasses with white lenses but a black swirl disappearing into the middle. The problem is, at the minute, such things don't exist.</p> <p>I actually like yellow lenses as they make everything look sunny. The green ones were done on a whim because of the buy one get one free offer. The lady who served me suggests pink lenses in the shape of love hearts next. This is either a subconscious declaration or she's thinks I am an idiot and is giving me stick. Either way, I'll be a fly or a hypnotist before a hippy.</p> <p><img src="http://www.kenland.com/gallery/images/gallery02.jpg" alt="Yes please!" title="Yes please!"></p> <p>I went home and drank some rabenhorst cherry nectar and put a Mars drink in the fridge before heading out to visit my Grandad. He lives on his own since our Grandma died and he is my Dads' Dad. He is the stingiest person I have heard of. He's very generous with us and gives us whatever he has, but capitalism will not take a single penny extra from him. The stories are far too many and far too unbelievable to go into in much detail. One quick example is of his bartering skills at the dentist. My grandad once got a £250 reduction off a £250 bill for work done on his Godson, visiting from Poland. They said £250, he said £0. They then knocked it down buy a couple of pounds as a compromise, but he said £0. This slowly and painfully carried on until they reached his level. He achieved the final drop in price by walking out on them. </p> <p>So, we ate and drank and watched the football scores rolling in. He tried to offer me polish tripe in a jar but I declined saying it wasn't my thing. He said it would be if I was really hungry, like he was in the war, but I'm not and it looked hideous. He tried to make me take it home with me, but I am not going to war so I didn't.</p> <p>I then met Joe and Kingy to go for an all you can eat Chinese. They charge 40p for tap water there, so I took a bottle in with me and occasionally drank from the sinks in the toilet. I briefly worried about turning into my Dad or Grandad, but all thoughts disappeared from my mind when I remembered that was 40p towards another pair of glasses that will make me look like a twat. We ate til we were full then went back to my flat where I had a cold Mars Drink waiting for me.</p> <p>Here' we spent the evening talking about being at University. This makes me a little sad and nostalgic as working is far more stressful, but it made Kingy and Joe suicidal. </p> <p>They were mainly upset because Limp Bizkit seems like yesterday to them, but none of the kids of today remember them or care about Fred Durst and the rest of his band. Nookie was 8 years ago and even Eat You Alive was four years ago! Joe pointed this out sadly and made us all a little depressed. In order to relive the year 2000, we listened to loads of Limp Bizkit and just danced around the front room. We also talked about wrestling and Goldeneye (the game). It was supposed to be fun and therapeutic, but Kingy just went home with a tear in his eye.</p> <p><img src="http://www.metroactive.com/papers/metro/11.23.00/gifs/durst-0047.jpg" alt="... they" title="... they"></p> <p>I went to bed hopeful. Fred Durst WILL return. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://witwap.blog.co.uk/2007/09/30/title~3061089/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:witwap.blog.co.uk,2007-09-07:/2007/09/07/what_i_did_today~2942725/T_Stash2007-09-07T20:57:53+02:002007-09-07T21:05:26+02:00 <p>Today I woke up at 6.15. I am back at work and a bit depressed. I didn't even mean to get up this early, but the alarm on my new phone is so spiteful that I think my subconscious is forcing me awake before it goes off. Alarms have never bothered me too much, but this one actually makes me panic. It's supposed to be soothing and orchestral too. It is devil music.</p> <p>After going through the process of deciding whether to sleep for a bit longer or not, I remembered I am not in Nokia 3310 country anymore and dragged myself out of bed. I washed my teeth, sorted my hair out and got dressed. I then sat still in the front room for ten minutes before leaving to school.</p> <p>The metro dealer on the corner has changed. I never had a proper conversation with the old one, but the smiles and greetings got more friendly as time passed and I'm sure life long friendship was imminent. The new one is a bit scruffy and looks mardy. He gave me a metro with a stern nod. I was not impressed with the way I had to go and get it from him.</p> <p>Instead of tutor time, we had an assembly for our new Super Head (that is actually his official title) to introduce himself to the kids. Its not impossible that this year may see more redundancies and although I'm as safe as they come, I still need to make a good impression. So for the only time ever, I actually paid attention to my groups wayward efforts at dressing themselves and dealt with any unwanted blinging up. I made them spit out their gum and I even tried to get my nemesis to smile. Thus, along with my rank form group, I looked the model of discipline. I know my tutor group so well, and vice versa, that we just tolerate each others' inefficiencies. I don't do Thought For The Week with them like I'm supposed to, they call me gay and sad and annoying and a gorm. I don't know what a gorm is. It is a mutually beneficial but unspoken agreement. They were confused by me today.</p> <p>We have been given photo id necklaces to wear. All the pupils have been asking why. I told them it's so they know what we look like. My humour is above them and was only met with more confusion. </p> <p>I had a year 9 class first. They are not officially a top set, but are as good as. They worked and behaved. I was glad about this, having two years ago taught "the worst two classes in the world ever", both in year 9. Then I had my year 11 class - the same kids I taught in year 10. They're ok - A couple of slightly rough around the edge boys and some gobshite girls. I told them this year they would tow the line no matter what they tried on with me. I used to only see this class in periods 4 and 5 when I couldnt keep them behind at break and lunch. Not so this year. My efforts to not let one pupil get the better of me had her rolling around on the floor by the end of the lesson. This was out of frustration. For once, I had won. There was something satisfying about the fact that last year, it would have been me down there.</p> <p><img src="http://www.bullybeef.co.uk/images/Cigarette_Vanisher_Large.jpg" alt="cigarette" title="cigarette"></p> <p>The time table gods have dealt me a rough hand on the duty roster - Friday break time, patrolling smokers hill. What's more, theyre cracking down on people actually doing their duty which meant I could not 'forget' this time. So I sloped off outside. It was lucky I did so, because both the regular and super head were out there. I was told my key job was to be vigilant looking for drugs drop offs through the fence at the top of the hill. I took this opportunity to introduce myself to the super head and butter him up. It worked and I was told I'd drawn the short straw because I was highly considered.</p> <p>This reminds me of when you give naughty or stupid kids a really horrid job and tell them its important and they have been handpicked because of their unique skills for sharpening pencils or taking a piece of paper to the photocopier. The retards always seem pleased at being told theyre good at something, when theyre not.</p> <p>I have made myself a sheriff's badge out of paper.</p> <p>Then, I was asked if I would like to be an official mentor to PGCE students. I'd have to go to a meeting next week, but would be paid for it. Thinking of time out of school and extra money I agreed. If I am a mentor for a student teacher, I basically have a slave. When the paper work came through later on, I noticed that I'd have to go next tuesday between half four and seven. I had been tricked, and unfortunately it was too late to back out.</p> <p>After lunch I had a dodgy year 8 class. I have a cough and have lost my voice. One kid shouted "Sir! Your balls have dropped!" and the class roared with laughter. I appreciate good comedy and let it slide, but it soon became tiresome when he shouted it again and again. He is a fat bastard and I was inches away from pointing this out.</p> <p>I saw my year 11s again in period four as the timetable gods pulled rank on me once more. However, karma was to give me the sweetest gift of them all to balance it out - the one thing that all teachers pray for: a free period last thing on a friday. I thought back again to two years ago when lesson 5 on a friday id be seeing my bottom set year 9 and giving myself headaches and nosebleeds. I smiled as I sat idly in the staffroom looking for food to steal.</p> <p><img src="http://ec1.images-amazon.com/images/I/21F8HF94RKL.jpg" alt="I cooked water for tea in one of these" title="I cooked water for tea in one of these"></p> <p>I then went home and had a cup of tea straight away. I had to boil the water in a saucepan because the kettle is broken, but the effort made it all the better. After a tiring start to a new term, I now fully expect to sleep on the setee. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://witwap.blog.co.uk/2007/09/07/what_i_did_today~2942725/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:witwap.blog.co.uk,2007-08-29:/2007/08/29/title~2891882/T_Stash2007-08-29T21:01:27+02:002007-08-30T17:12:44+02:00 <p>We have just spent the weekend at the Reading Festival and I will attempt to roll up the whole three day experience into one piece of writing.</p> <p>We arrived at our hotel late on Thursday night. I am too evolved to roll around in beer, piss and mud coated in shit. Because of this, I have given up camping there. I am not an overly hygienic person, but I prefer things to be free from death and decay. The following day was to begin in a difficult fashion. There were six of us in the festival. We had two bags. Joe was carrying one and my Mum had the other. Joe had the one with the three most essential items: food, water and top trumps. However, for some unknown reason, Joe and Vicki ended up stomping off. This left us for two whole hours with no means of survival. It was gruelling and there were times when fear got the better of Rowan, Lloyd and myself. Kingy was not with us at that point, but had heard about the lack of top trumps on the grape vine. He doesn't come for the music, he comes for the sport. The text message I got from him captured his anger and his arrival was just another thing to worry about.</p> <p>joe eventually turned up and the natural order of things was restored. We ate melted kinder maxis and drank warm coke. It wasn't really worth the wait. We spent the majority of the first day hanging around the punk tent with all the other people who desperately wanted to be 16 again. All the actual 16 year olds were performing their vigil at the radio one tent, pushing their faces into the barrier and sweeping their fringes across their faces. The swirling torrent of unsightly straightened hair, flat peak caps under hooded tops and tight trousers or basketball shorts were waiting for the hideous spectacle of Enter Shikari. They no doubt had been since the festival was opened the previous day. Kids were way cooler when I was one.</p> <p><img src="http://www.sweetstall.com/acatalog/Rainbow_belts.jpg" alt="Run for cover" title="Run for cover"></p> <p>The following morning, Lloyd decided to get high on E102, a yellow food colouring that both he and Joe are allergic to. Rowan thought it would be funny to feed him fizzy rainbow laces, but the results were worse than even he had expected as Lloyd teared the atmosphere apart with an unrivalled display of crudity and bad behaviour. We had no milk to force down his throat, which is the usual antidote, so we had to just grit our teeth and weather the storm.</p> <p>Lloyd had also grown a moustache. It was not visible, which made us all doubt his claim. In order to prove it was real, he filled in between the three strands with black mascara. Reading was largely fooled and in awe of him. A girl in Waitrose asked if it was real. He said yes. She then turned to Rowan and asked if his eyebrows were real. In fairness, they do look equally improbable. He snappily asked if her face was real. She wasn't attractive, making Rowan's remark all the more cutting and she soon disappeared back to her hovel to hide amongst the filth and despair of the campsite.</p> <p>Carling were offering poor people a incentive to keep the festival site clean. They rewarded money to those who returned pint cups back to the beer vans. I pitied the peasants dragging their way through the debris, especially when I noted people pissing into their empties and throwing them around. I also despised the grubby leeches for being so deprived that they were forced to suck loose change from other people's rubbish. Inventively, we started a chant to aim at the collecting parasites. It went: "Cups! Cups! Cups!" It only confused them.</p> <p>Likewise, we invented a chant for the vodka jelly foot soldiers. It went "Vodka Jeeeeelllly!!!". Again, despite it's simplicity, it was largely met with confusion, though one vendor did give me a free vodka jelly as a panic reaction. It was foul and I gave it straight away after he had watched me pretending to be happy and left.</p> <p>On the final day, a huge fat drunk Welshman was dancing to Fallout Boy and fell into the circle of chairs where we were all sat. He spilt his pint down me then rolled onto the people behind us. I jumped up and called him a fucking idiot, but he was too drunk to care. He just lay across the poor people behind us laughing and covering them with spit and alcohol. He must have been a good 17 stone. Everyone got angry and told him to leave, but he was ignorant and incapable. He tried to get up, then fell on us and spilled more drink. Words were exchnaged and things then got ugly. He squared up to Rowan because, amongst other things, Joe had said there was no point in him getting up as he'd be straight on the floor again. This was actually a reference to how drunk he was, but he took it as a threat. His equally large and generic mates squared up to us too. I got between everyone and tried to break it up, but in doing so, called him an embarrasment. At that point, it was most definately on. We were considerably outnumbered and massively outsized. Although it counted for little, we were younger and more sober and this was our only weapon.</p> <p>We were going to rumble to "This Aint a Scene, It's an Arms Race." I still can't decide whether this would have been funny or not.</p> <p>Despite being an idiot herself, the man's girlfriend managed to drag him away, though he and his friends kept trying to get back to us. We were ready though. I am good at top trumps and therefore strategies, and have been to University so am educated and intelligent. So I formulated the following plan:</p> <p>If they came back to beat us up, or fell on us again, I was going to kick the man in his face (fly kick if necessary) then sprint through the crowd to the nearest security station whilst everybody pretended not to be with me. This would avoid a mass brawl. It was fool proof. I'm fairly quick and they were all middle aged oasis fans so there was no way this plan would not work.</p> <p>Even my Mum said "Just make sure you have your mobile so we can find out where you get to". This was the seal of approval. Usually my mother doesn't even have to listen to what I say to follow it up with "Don't be so ridiculous".</p> <p>However, our new friends, obviously intimidated by our physical presence, decided their life was in danger and fled. In hindsight, once we had all calmed down, we realised this was for the best as we would have had the shit kicked out of us. My fly kicks were not that impressive the last time I tried one in primary school and I've done nothing since then to improve them.</p> <p>The festival ended with the Smashing Pumpkins. Everyone I was with hated them, but I didn't. I thrust off the shackles of maturity and responsibilty and in my mind, had greasy curtains again. They sang about the alienation and rage that spoke for MY generation. Being comfortably middle class, I never felt this. However, I listened to them when I was fifteen so can pretend they were saying things I probably should have been thinking, but could never put into words. </p> <p><img src="http://harpmagazine.com/img/news/20070207_Smashing_Pumpkins2.jpg" alt="I am still just a rat in a CAAAAAGGEEE!!!" title="I am still just a rat in a CAAAAAGGEEE!!!"></p> <p>To be honest, I've never actually put any thought into their lyrics.</p> <p>On the way out, we discovered that you got 10p for every pint cup you returned. I was angry to have turned my back on such an opportunity and thought of all the time I had wasted watching bands. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://witwap.blog.co.uk/2007/08/29/title~2891882/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:witwap.blog.co.uk,2007-08-13:/2007/08/13/what_i_did_today~2799619/T_Stash2007-08-13T10:17:50+02:002007-08-13T14:12:45+02:00 <p>Today I woke up at 9.30 for what would turn out to be an infuriating and exhausting day. Rowan had sent me a message telling me to be at the Warsaw Diner for 11 as it was his girlfriend Kate's birthday celebration. Immediately, I left the flat to go to the sweet shop to buy her a present. I did this for two reasons. The first one is that Kate likes sweets. The second one is that, apart from my dead grandmother, the girl who works at the sweet shop is the only person in history that I am capable of charming. Because of this, I walked out with a can of Mountain Dew, a strawberry push pop and a big bag of sweets for a discounted price. I was served by somebody else, but they knocked money off on account of their friend informing them that I was a nice guy when I walked in the shop. All the while, the skullcrushers called to me with their creamy white seductive voices, but I knew their game and left them where they were.</p> <p>Annoyingly, the bag of sweets was sealed so I couldn't pick at them before giving them to Kate.</p> <p>As usual, the Warsaw Diner was very nice. I had the bad ass breakfast with beans instead of egg and tea instead of coffee. I hadn't been in there for a few months, but they know my order and as a result, I didn't even need to say anything to make it. I had always wanted to have a usual somewhere and there's something fitting about having one at the greasiest restaurant I know of.</p> <p>I have put on a bit of weight recently so felt guilty about eating all that fat. Everybody else was going to the park to sit in the sun, so I agreed to meet them there after running down. This way, I could get a lift back. The meeting spot was originally supposed to be "by a tree". This did not help me much - Wollaton Park has somewhere in the region of thousands. Then I was told "near by where you started your 10k race". With this in mind, I started what was to be a really difficult run. It was far too hot and I'd only just eaten and I really struggled to finish the 4 miles.</p> <p><img src="http://data4.blog.de/media/439/1878439_f60534ee87_m.jpg" alt="wollaton" vspace="5" hspace="5"></p> <p>Because of the heat, I spent half of my two pound emergency fund buying a bottle of water from a surly ice cream man when I got there. It was worth it. For a man that trades in excitement and happiness, the ice cream man did not seem to have much. I then wandered around the area where we started the 10k race for over an hour, firstly inspecting any group of people by a tree, secondly inspecting any group of people and thirdly inspecting every car in the car park to see if they were actually there. Conclusion: they weren't. I had a pound left and the bus home was £1.40, which ruled that out. So then I went to find a phone box. The only one in the park was out of order. </p> <p>I thought about the situation for a bit. I could beg a mobile phone off a stranger or I could go to the nearest phone box, at some unknown destination far outside the boundaries of the park. Not being a communist and being knackered from the run and the heat, neither was an appealing option. So I went to the little museum and cafe in the park grounds.</p> <p>I stood at the counter and waited for the receptionist. Whilst I did this, I looked down the employee's signing in ledger for funny names. There was a smurthwaite. Then, nearer the bottom, I noticed another, more familiar name - the name of a girl I teach in year 9. In other words, somebody I actually knew who probably had a mobile phone. I weighed up the situation: according to the book, she worked in the cafe. Could I go in there all sweaty and rank and beg her phone off her because I was too fat and unfit to make my own way back? I decided I'd rather walk home. Just then, the receptionist returned. With my remaining pound, I persuaded him to let me use the reception phone to ring Mum (the only phone number I ever rememeber) who gave me Joe's number so I could contact him. Turns out they were at the opposite side of the park. They were however, still next to a tree. This was more because it's impossible not to be than any attempt to make it easy for me. Importantly, the attendent let me keep my pound.</p> <p>Joe drove me back to Lloyds which is only a half mile run to mine. Upon returning, I realised I'd picked up the house keys that don't work and was locked out. I slumped my forhead against the door and stayed there for several minutes before composing myself. There are lots of phone boxes right outside my flat, which made the next step slightly easier. Thinking carefully, I couldn't waste my pound on one phone call, so I asked for change at the ice cream van. The conversation I had with this ice cream man was as follows:</p> <p>"Hello, could I change this pound coin for something smaller please?"<br> "WHAT'S THE MAGIC WORD?"<br> "Please?"</p> <p>In true comedy fashion, I had sweated Joe's number off from my arm and he was the most likely candidate to have a key. So I rang my parents again. This time my Dad picked up. The call lasted 10 seconds and I now had only 60p remaining. Luckily, my dad rang the phone box back. I had my Dad ring everyone that I might have given a key to the flat to, then get back in contact with my command centre. Lloyd and Rowan didn't have keys, Mum did, but lived in the Isle of Man and Joe might have an old one somewhere. I decided that was my only option and ran up to Joes which was about a mile and a half away.</p> <p>On the way up, a tramp stopped me and asked for some loose change. I had enough to make one phone call and was not about to give it up. I said no, but he was persistant. My gut reaction was to roundhouse kick him into the bus lane to get run over, but despite the fact I was exhausted and sunburnt, I could almost see the funny side. On top of this, I was too tired to do a round house kick and was never able to do one in the first place.</p> <p>Joe recently moved out of my flat into another really posh one. However it's in the red light district of the city. When I got there, the building where his flat is was only accessible by a magnetic entry gate which you had to contact him to open via an intercomm. Neither of these things worked. So I eyed the situation up. Then a voice leapt from the street corner to give me advice.</p> <p>"Just jump over the wall mate, it's not that high"<br> A prostitute was giving me tips on how to break into my brothers flat. We had a brief conversation about the best way of getting away from her and into Joe's before deciding she was right. I looked up at the wall. She offered to give me a foot up. My running trainers are brand new and cost £80 and I didn't want them getting an STD. On top of this, I also didn't know if she'd expect payment for such a service. I thanked her then scrambed over the wall all by myself. </p> <p>When inside the first wall, I realised there was no way up to Joe's from there. I was about to run back and formulate a strategy with my new sidekick when Joe saw me soliciting around from his window and came down to let me in. </p> <p>Joe had a key which he said might work, though it was unmarked so he couldn't be sure. He also has Space Fridge. It used to belong to NASA and be in space ships. It gives you two different kinds of ice on demand and would protect you in the event of the sun exploding on the world. I had lots of ice whilst I was there. Joe spared me wandering round the city in my sweaty running clothes any more by giving me a lift halfway into town. The key ended up working too so I got into my flat about 4 hours late.</p> <p><img src="http://data4.blog.de/media/258/1878258_aaf191905d_m.jpg" alt="space fridge" vspace="5" hspace="5"></p> <p>I had a cold bath then watched American Gothic on dvd whilst twitching slightly from over exposure to the sun. I then went to bed thinking of space fridge and all the ice it can make. I also sat in the dark chanting "Someone's at the door" in my head to try and scare myself. It worked a bit. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://witwap.blog.co.uk/2007/08/13/what_i_did_today~2799619/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:witwap.blog.co.uk,2007-08-09:/2007/08/09/title~2783407/T_Stash2007-08-09T23:04:53+02:002007-08-13T12:02:02+02:00 <p>Today, I woke up at half past eight, though this did not happen without incident. I am a light sleeper and the slightest change to the conditions around me, be it noise, light or temperature, normally has me wide awake and raring to go. Today, my dastardly new phone started running out of battery at about six in the morning and kept beeping violently at me every five minutes. I ignored it and went back to sleep each time without even considering what was happening. I had never heard this sound before and it could have meant something much more sinister for all I knew, but I didn't care. Then, at 8:30, my alarm went off. For the first time in living memory, I was about to turn it off and go back to sleep, before I had visions of my grandad parachuting through gunfire at Arnham Bridge. He never sleeps in ever and he survived the war. I could see him frowning at me from his allotment, where he'd have been for at least two hours now. I felt shameful and lazy and got straight out of bed.</p> <p>A few years back, my dad bought a house in Nottingham. I lived there when I was a student and all my brothers have lived there since. He is about to sell it and the valuers are coming round tomorrow so it was up to Joe, Lloyd and I to make it presentable. When I lived there, it wasn't a student house, it was a real house. When Joe lived there, it started deteriorating. One of his housemates used to get so desperate for neat vodka that he'd walk over a mile barefoot to the nearest off license or he'd ring up the Booze Brothers to order 40 alcopops and a bottle of Smirnoff, just to meet the minimum order. He was nocturnal too. This erratic behaviour spoke volumes about his house keeping skills. Once, he and Joe spilled a whole bag of suger on the living room floor whilst making fairy cakes (later dubbed "egg-sick cakes"). Two months later, the mountain of sugar was still there with not one grain out of place.</p> <p>Then came Rowan. He is a throw-back anyway, but his house mates were worse. One was an actual cave man who learnt to live without grooming or cleaning himself in any way whatsoever. This is a polite blog and I know my mother reads it, so I will go into no further detail. But whatever you're thinking, it's a lot worse than that. This group of tenants probably hit an all time low when they realised they'd unwittingly been cultivating a colony of maggots in the hallway. I think this was probably something to do with the chicken carcass. There was also an Irish man living there.</p> <p>Last in the legacy is Lloyd, whose housemate's cook blunt mince meat in the George Foreman grill and are capable of secreting undiluted filth in frightening quantities. Again, that is as much as I want to say, in case there are ladies reading. To the best of my knowledge, no tenant has washed a dish or hoovered since I lived there.</p> <p><img src="http://content.clearchannel.com/Photos/sports_photos/Boxing/george_foreman_GI.jpg" alt="Geogre Foreman and a grill like the one in the house" title="Geogre Foreman and a grill like the one in the house"></p> <p>So today was to be fun. At first, I spent an hour cleaning the top of the oven. It took a cocktail of bleach, cillit bang and Mr Muscle to even make any kind of difference. I'd hate to think of what was actually in that brown crust. My task was interrupted briefly by Joe who ran downstairs clutching an old soggy wig at arms length. He dashed outside screaming and could do nothing but whimper for the following ten minutes. It turned out that he'd just been unclogging the bathroom plug.</p> <p>We went to the pub next door for lunch. The only people ever here at this time are from the old folks home across the road and the smoking ban has hit them hard. They all talk about the olden days in the key of throat cancer. In between their moaning, they sit staring at their drinks in silence. Never before have I seen a better advertisement for death. A new bar maid was in there and one fossil (who has been drinking there since 1952, I once overheard her say), went to make an order. Despite the fact it was all under control, the old woman pointed out which area of the bar to get all the correct glasses and bottles needed for their drinks. She ended by saying "And it'll be exactly the same, every single day." She was staring into space and addressing nobody as she said this. It was almost a relief to finish my butter sandwich and get back to work</p> <p>I had become obsessed with the oven. I decided I would not leave that house until it looked clean. So I applied ant killer to it. Anything that made my eyes water that much and made it so difficult to breath had to be cleansing. I tried many other things over the course of the day too and by five o''clock, it looked almost good enough for a tramp to eat off.</p> <p>In between stints in the kitchen, I also had to hoover the house. This was doubly hard as I had to hoover the ceilings too, to remove cobwebs and other less conventional dirt. After all the BB gun pellets I'd vacuumed, the Henry rattled as he followed me around. He was the only thing in the house still smiling.</p> <p><img src="http://myweb.tiscali.co.uk/liquidations/henry_hoover.jpg" alt="I hoovered using this" title="I hoovered using this"></p> <p>It was to be Lloyd though, who drew the short straw. One of the toilets has an ungodly stain on it. It's pitch black and as big as the toilet can physically allow it to be. It has been there months and according to one of Lloyd's housemates, it is what happens when you eat a jar of peanut butter in one go. It's half life had yet to be determined, even after using every cleaning product that is commercially available. A while back, Lloyd once said he'd lick it for a hundred pounds, providing a split second tongue stabbing counted as a lick.</p> <p>It must have taken an act of God, but Lloyd was succesful. He came downstairs shaking and sat in the front room with his face looking lifeless and white. He refused to talk about what he'd just had to do and I don't think he ever will. I have no idea how he managed to get rid of it. </p> <p>At the end of the day, the place was spotless, except for one room. There is still one tenant who occasionally lurks there. To put it politely, he seems to have developed mental problems. He is rarely seen, is never really contactable and is currently behaving like serial killers do before they snap. His room looks like a scene from the film Seven.</p> <p>We congratulated ourselves on a hard day's work, apart from Lloyd, who was still not speaking, then left the house praying that it would stay in the same condition for at least the next 12 hours. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://witwap.blog.co.uk/2007/08/09/title~2783407/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:witwap.blog.co.uk,2007-08-07:/2007/08/07/title~2770870/T_Stash2007-08-07T18:52:25+02:002007-08-08T23:54:50+02:00 <p>My Nokia 3310 died of old age recently, I have been using a new phone. I've always been the object of pity, scorn and amusement because of my mobile phones. People think I'm being stubborn and contrary but I use a mobile for two things: texting and phoning. The 3310 did both better than any other phone I've seen. It also has the added bonuses of being indestructible (mine once got run over by a taxi) and worthless. Working in a comprehensive school, decent mobile phones tend to go missing. I have actually tested our known theives by leaving mine lying on my desk in their presence. Nobody's ever interested.</p> <p><img src="http://www.keep-talking.net/gallery/nokia/nokia_pics/3310.jpg" alt="The majestic 3310. They don" title="The majestic 3310. They don"></p> <p>My new mobile phone is an old one that my Mum can no longer bare to look at. It's claim to fame is that once upon a time it could take pictures and it has a libertines song as its ring tone. More than one note and sound can be heard at once when it plays, I swear. To add to this devilment, the alarm goes off even when you don't want it to, so yesterday, despite a 3am stint in a recording studio the night before, I was awoken at 8am. As soon as I can get a new 3310, I will.</p> <p>My first task for the day was to buy some running shoes. I had run the Tough Guy race last week. This was 11 miles of mud, water, steepness and electricity that had ripped apart my old trainers. I had run the event really well. Unexpectedly, I beat Rowan and Lloyd. By over half an hour. Considering I was a few minutes behind them about two thirds of the way round, this was some achievement. I also managed to finish in the top 200 of a few thousand. I didn't wear my glasses to do the course and its feasible, I suppose, that I blundered through an extreme shortcut. The sceptics amongst our crew are keen on this story, whereas I think it's more likely that I probably am one of the fastest and fittest people in Britain.</p> <p>When I got to the sports shop, they locked the doors behind me and got the cameras out. All I could think of was Pulp Fiction. I didn't get bummed though, instead the shop assistant filmed my feet whilst I was running so they could analyse my style, obviously to get tips to pass on. No doubt the conclusion was that I was well fast. Every time he gave me a new pair of shoes to try on, the man in the shop made me run all the way round the block to test them. It was a hot day and after the fifth pair, I was very sweaty.</p> <p>Meanwhile, a middle aged woman had entered the shop. She wanted only to loiter, clearly having a thing for the much younger man who was serving me. Despite the fact I was obviously in the way, my athletic advancement was much more important than her cringe worthy Mrs Robinsoning, so I made her compete with me for attention until I'd got the right pair of trainers. She slumped hedonistically over the stool and dirty socks and licked at her coffee in what I much later realised was supposed to be a seductive fashion. She kept remarking how unfit I looked when I sprinted back in. Whether she was trying to impress the man or whether she saw me as competition, I cannot say. I wanted nothing more than to tell her she was disgracing herself and to challenge her to an obstacle course, but I'm an Olympic Standard athlete now and this was enough comfort for me. It was embarrassing watching her flirt, so I bought the sixth pair of trainers I tried on. They felt great and this whole ordeal is the same as what it must have been like when Harry Potter chose his wand (or vice versa), only he didnt have a dribbling old lady to make things awkward. Job done, I left what was no doubt turning into an uncomfortable situation for one of the two people left in the shop.</p> <p>After all that exercise I was worried about my energy levels and now I have finally untapped my potential, I need to be looking after myself. So, I went to spend what should have been £1.16 on sweets. I got a 16 pence discount for being lovely. I presume the girl at the counter actually meant "physically supreme". My mix was heavy on pint pots and strawberry milkshakes. I'd avoided the lure of skullcrushers and was pleased with myself for this. They're alluring, but ultimately sickening.</p> <p><img src="http://www.artisanduchocolat.com/public/pictures/products/thumbs/skull.jpg" alt="SKULLCRUSHERS!" title="SKULLCRUSHERS!"></p> <p>In the evening I went to watch some music - a good band called Baddies and a slightly ropey one called Thousands of Reflections. They had a hit back in the 80s with a song called In The Wake and have pretty much done nothing good since. This band compliment their music by hanging around harbours and beachfronts befriending fishermen, only to steal their catches when their backs are turned. If this practise is not shameful and undignified enough, they then pass the catch on as their own whilst exagerrating about the size, if you can imagine such a thing. In backwards areas of the South, this is known as tussing.</p> <p>I had no fish with me so was technically safe, but still didnt hang around too long afterwards. I didn't trust the beady look in the singer's eyes. I walked back home and went straight to bed, dismantling my phone before I did so. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://witwap.blog.co.uk/2007/08/07/title~2770870/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:witwap.blog.co.uk,2007-07-25:/2007/07/25/what_i_did_today~2698451/T_Stash2007-07-25T12:59:14+02:002007-07-25T13:09:23+02:00 <p>Today, I skived out of school at lunch time. My emotions for the morning had been mixed. We were supposed to have sports day, but it had been cancelled due to the ongoing heavy rain. I was sad because the morning sitting on the bank winding children up last year had been easy and fun. I was happy too, because there was no way we'd have won. Our boys are very sporty - we'd demolished all challengers at house football, but our girls are not. Out of our only two hopes, one had conjunctivitis and the other had been unfortunately exiled from school. A long and complicated story meant she would not be returning. Thus my hopes rested in an almost blind student who was only officially allowed to enter two events. My rivals were on to me as well and were keeping a watch out for her competing in more. We would not have won. Forget taking part, that's something losers invented to feel better about themselves. Thus, it was with a sense of relief that I was now told I had a year to prepare and scheme for the next sports day. </p> <p>So I dipped out of school at lunch to do 'work experience visits'. I managed 2 of the four i had arranged, but there would be time tomorrow for the rest. At 3 o'clock, Rowan, Lloyd and I loaded up on Walkers sensations, butterkist popcorn and hobnobs and boarded the party van to our nations capital. We were playing a gig at the Barfly tonight.</p> <p>The trip down was uneventful. Rowan wasn't in a mardy, though we all suspected it would only be a matter of time until this changed. His good mood was partly due to the music we had on. Rowan is one of a handful of people in the world to own Matt Willis' album. He is also the only person that actually likes it. So we sped down the motorway with Rowan gleefully singing songs that the population of Britain never knew existed, and for good reason. When an album comes advertised with "As seen on I'm a celebrity, get me out of here" then you know you're in trouble.</p> <p><img src="http://bustedfan.uw.hu/images/matt.jpg" alt="Get out the caaaaaaar, honey..." title="Get out the caaaaaaar, honey..."></p> <p>When the soulful regret of "Don't Let it go to waste" echoed round the van, I swear I saw a tear forming in Rowan's contemplative and glassy eyes. Nobody spoke for those four minutes, until a call off "Can we turn fucking Crap Willis off now!?", sliced through the missed opportunties hanging in the air. We put some Korn on.</p> <p>At the barfly, we were being supported by a band of 17 years olds who had clearly been dragged through a copy of the NME backwards. Pointy shoes, skimpy shirts without collars but with acompanying ties and hair like greasy black candy floss. One of them had trousers that were so tight, you could actually see the outline of his cock and both bollocks. It was disturbing. They were borrowing our equipment because they lived too far away to bring their own, they told us with their thick London accents. They then proceeded to watch me move all of our really heavy stuff whilst Lloyd set up the drums and rowan waited in the van in order to beat away the general population of thieves. The support band sat there talking about The Horrors and generally and deliberately making a mess to show just how rock and roll they are. Then, they were told it was an over 18s gig so all their zombie drones waiting outside couldnt get in. One tantrum later and they were gone, vowing never to play the Fly again.</p> <p>After getting set up and soundchecked, we loafed around upstairs chatting with friends who had come to watch us, some of which we haven't seen in a while and some who keep up to date with what's going on up in the north through this blog (Word up Face Boy!). Then, as I sat with my back to the window, Rowan got up with a start. "It's Steve Lamacq!". Rowan does things like this for a joke all the time. His idea of being funny is to tell someone they've won a million pounds on the lottery, or to break it to someone that their parents had died when neither had actually happened - you know, REALLY funny stuff. For this reason, I didnt believe him, but then I noticed the colour disappear from Lloyd's face and I knew there was more to this claim. I span round and the most famous and well respected radio 1 DJ alive was getting out of a taxi. </p> <p>It turned out later, he'd just come to see us, but got there a bit early to check out any support bands. How our hearts bled for the band that were to play first. Lloyd was nervous anyway. He has a phobia of playing in front of good drummers and with Face Boy, our original drummer wandering round the venue claiming to be the singer from My Chemical Romance, he was already at breaking point.</p> <p>It turned out fine though. We had a good gig and Steve Lamacq apparently enjoyed it. Afterwards, we said our goodbyes, loaded the equipment, then disappeared.</p> <p>I travelled back with Lloyd and Widdleman. Widdle had parked his car in some kind of spatial paradox. Physics did not function in this labyrinth of confusion. Even a writer as skilled as myself cannot find the words to describe all the oddities we encountered there. The car park comprised of two spiral columns. The only logical explantion for their arrangement was that they occupied the exact same space, but in different dimensions - a blue and a yellow one. It took a while of searching empty spaces to work this out, but when we did, we quickly discovered the lift, the gateway to the yellow car park. When we got in, it seemed to immediately open in the same place, but with yellow markings on the wall and Widdleman's car directly in front of us.</p> <p><img src="http://numb.deslizo.net/fotos2/film-twilight-zone.jpg" alt="The attendant at the car park entrance" title="The attendant at the car park entrance"> </p> <p>We got in, then noted the only way out, according to the signs, was to keep going down. As we descended, we felt the earth's core heating the air up. Chris repeatedly shouted "This is some voodoo shit going on!". Then we reached a thick white wall. It took a couple of minutes of scratching our heads before we noticed a secret passageway to our right. We drove through it and passed a caged area on our left that was full of broken and fuzzing TVs. Clearly, this was the Twilight Zone. Then, as the markings turned to blue, the spiral tilted upwards and we finally seemed to be on our way out. </p> <p>Occasionally we passed a gap in the central column of the car park, where we could see yellow. I swear that I also saw us, on the other side, driving downwards and looking concerned. When we sped out into the polluted London air, there was a palpable sense of relief - we would all get to hear "Don't let it go to waste" again and we were grateful.</p> <p>I'm not clever with science and physics. Neither is Lloyd. Widdleman did maths and philosophy though, and concluded that yes, we had briefly been in a parrellel universe. Being a geography teacher, I know how precious and expensive land is in London, so this seemed an economical way to do things. Of course, it's entirely possible that the spirals intertwined, one on top of the other, but 'voodoo shit' seems more logical. </p> <p>After a few hours of Widdleman's sage deconstruction of life in the capital ("For fuck's sake, why are all these poor bastards riding around on bikes and rickshaws and getting in my way! Can't any ot these idiots afford cars?") we got back at half three. I got up at 7am the following day for work and felt rubbish. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://witwap.blog.co.uk/2007/07/25/what_i_did_today~2698451/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:witwap.blog.co.uk,2007-06-23:/2007/06/23/title~2503799/T_Stash2007-06-23T09:03:13+02:002007-06-23T09:03:48+02:00 <p>Today, I woke up at 7.10am. I panicked as I needed to be in school early and should have been woken by my alarm at 6.45. Strangely, I got out of bed with no urgency whatsoever and ambled to the bathroom. I began cleaning my teeth, stabbing in the corner of my mouth to get at my horizontal wisdom tooth. As always, my mouth bled quite a lot.Then I turned my toothbrush over and scrubbed my tongue. I always do this because my new tooth brush has specially designed gills on its reverse so you can brush your tongue too. I need to as I always have a green tongue in the morning. It's something to do with my asthma and it's not because I'm malnourished or generally hideous. However, I was still not going fast enough and didnt know why.</p> <p>When I'd sorted my hair out, I went into the kitchen where my clothes were hanging up so that I could get dressed. Then I woke up. I had just had the most realistic, but ultimately boring dream of my entire life. It was 6.42. I actually got up then, and did exactly the same thing, but in real life.</p> <p><img src="http://www.csulb.edu/~karenk/20thcwebsite/438final/ah438fin-ImageF.00001.jpeg" alt="Power cut" title="Power cut"></p> <p>I left the house and went to school. First of all, there was a power cut and the school was in darkness. I had my favourite class, a year nine top set, down in the library. They were very well behaved, but they kept asking me if they could go home for health and safety issues. Time and time again, I said that I was too low down the food chain to make these sorts of decisions. One kindly girl who heard me explaining why it wasn't my decision to make, drew a diagram for me of the school hierarchy. It had the head teachers, the deputy (complete with flabby old person arms), my head of department and then all the way down the bottom, a sad looking picture of me. It worked. Instead of justifying my lowly position in school, I just handed that to pupils as way of explanation. After the lesson, I took the diagram to the head teacher and then asked him if we could go home. He told me to piss off. At which point the power came back on. Up until that point, I was quietly confident of engineering a situation where we needed to go home for the day, even if it meant pushing a child down some darkened stairs. I'm sure I could have found a willing accomplice. Alas, it was back to the classroom and on wih the day.</p> <p>As a aspecial treat for a year seven class, I taught the lesson in my 3D glasses. I get a lot of stick for having bought them, but this class idolises them. To clarify, I didn't go round school, looking for respect or approval from 12 years olds immediately after I bought them, but I have been spotted in town wearing them and it spread around the school quickly after. If it hadn't, I'd have probably gone round school looking for respect or approval from 12 years olds.</p> <p>Two things happened at lunch time. First was the third leg of the year 8 5-aside tournament. My form are winning so far. Before the first game I gave them a motivational talk Cloughy himself would have been proud of. "You're rubbish at everything," I said. "You shame me with your behaviour and your inability to ever get positive mentions at anything in year 8 assemblies. You have made me a laughing stock to other tutors who make me the butt of their jokes for beating me at everything. However, if there's one thing we can do well, it's football. Win the tournament and you will be rewarded with the riches of your wildest dreams. Lose and you're in trouble." I also told the lad I put in charge to ignore the bad players. I was not interested in giving everyone a go and not hurting peoples feeling. This was not some communist love in, this was football. I was interested in only one thing: victory. So far so good. We beat our closest rivals 2-1 in the first game and battered some team of no hope clowns 5-1 today. They actually went one behind and until they scored to equalise, none would look up at my position on the sidelines.</p> <p>Then when I was going back into school, another teacher was dashing out with a wheel chair and a first aid box. I smelt blood. My main year 8 tutor rival and I had gone on a first aid course together. We now kept a tally of who had dealt with the most first aid incidents. She was winning 3-2. I decided to level the scores and followed the wheelchair up onto the hill. A year 7 boy was lying on the floor wailing and holding his knee. Halfway down his shin. I did not expect this and felt physically sick. My previous 2 incidents were tenuous at best - telling a child where to pinch his nose when it was bleeding and giving a plaster to someone who had cut their finger. Luckily there were people more qualified with me to deal with this childs folded and collapsed leg. Importantly, I was there. I agreed to call the ambulance and went along with the plan of not moving him to the wheelchair. 3 all.</p> <p><img src="http://www.corgi-direct.com/shopassets/ui/products/normal/06425fe3350x350.jpg" alt="First aid box" title="First aid box"></p> <p>It took two hours for the paramedic to dope him up enough to move him and apparently in hospital, they're going to have to operate in order to put his kneecap back into place.</p> <p>This boy always gives me stick about being short. Next time he does it, in two months time when the splint they put in has been removed and he's actually allowed to hobble anywhere, I will dance to show how many directions my knee can move in wihout popping out. Or maybe just kick him in his knee.</p> <p>In the library last lesson, ghost computer started speaking to me. It opened up Word and said "hello sir, how are you" before trying to engage me in conversation. Shocked and frightened, I went home. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://witwap.blog.co.uk/2007/06/23/title~2503799/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:witwap.blog.co.uk,2007-06-09:/2007/06/09/what_i_did_today~2421411/T_Stash2007-06-09T11:30:56+02:002007-06-09T11:30:56+02:00 <p>Today I woke up at 6.45. I nearly cried and my eyes felt like rusty metal. It was horrible. On a school night, I had dared to stay up until past one o'clock to go out and watch some bands and now I was paying the consequences. I washed, cleaned my teeth and got dressed before heading out of the house. I don't drink, but I do sleep and when I have to go to work, I don't like not having enough of it.</p> <p>I craved Mars drinks, but I have very strict rules with these. They vary in price so much that I don't like to pay more then 85p. It's not because I can't afford it - teaching just about pays enough for such extravagance - but it's more because I don't like the thought of The Man getting one up on me. I picture some fat owner of a greasy corporate newsagents like MSR going to McDonalds and buying a large meal instead of just a normal one, then laughing at the memory of me buying their expensive Mars drink as they pass over the money. I do actually like capitalism, but only because I like to think I'm smart enough to not get caught out by it.</p> <p><img src="http://www.drinkmaltesers.com/images/products/px_drinks_mars.jpg" alt="Mars drink" title="Mars drink"></p> <p>Today, the 'refuel' tag on the side of the bottle sold me on the idea of paying 99p. Thus I had a Mars drink for breakfast and it was worth every inflated penny. The man could enjoy his fries, for he had earned them. I got on the number 4 and went to school. </p> <p>I zombied my way through the day. Some students at school had found out I had played on a festival bill the other day with bands like McFly, Madness and the Sugababes. Nobody realises it was not as high profile as it sounds, but it doesn't matter. At least to the younger school kids, I can do no wrong. As a result, I just got admiring comments and starstruck glances all morning. Nobody wanted to misbehave for their famous teacher.</p> <p>After a few days armistice, I decided it was time to go on the offensive with my comedy nemeisis at school. He used to play in a band about ten years ago. He will not tell me who, but claims them to have been semi famous and I may have heard of them. After he convinced the whole of year 8 that my first name is Ruprecht, I decided to tell them which band he used to be in: The Rednex, or to the students "that band that sang cotton eyed joe". It worked a treat and I felt particularly proud of myself for that one.</p> <p>Later on, I got a phone call during my year 10 class. I had forgotten to put it on silent and I am vicious with that class about messing with their phones during lesson. I said if it rang again, they could answer it. Not actually wanting this to happen, I started putting it on silent but it rang as I was pressing the buttons. I sighed and passed it to a semi sensible girl in front of me. She answered it normally, then panicked and threw it back to the class clown.</p> <p>A hush descended on the room as the boy started speaking in a dodgy australian accent. He seemed to be inviting the caller for a drink but nobody could quite be sure. Every idiotic response was met with howls of laughter. Eventually I got the phone back off him and wound the conversation up - Joe was calling from Download festival informing me that touts were getting rid of tickets dirt cheap. It took the class a minute to settle down, at which point the headmaster walked in. The class looked at him, looked at me, then all sat staring at their desks trying not to giggle. If he had literally walked in one minute earlier, the situation would have looked bad. The Head threw a football back to the clown as he had confiscated it at lunch time. He disappeared and the laughter began again. </p> <p>"How glad are you he didn't walk in a minute earlier sir?" The answer was very.</p> <p>After school, I went home, got changed then left for Donnington to buy an illegal ticket. The transaction was swift when I got there - I bought a weekend one for £72. Face value £170. I was slightly worried with the celebrations and laughter that greeted the handing over of the money, but the ticket was valid and I got in fine just in time to see yourcodenameis:milo, who are a band I really enjoy. They were good and have the greatest set closer of all time.</p> <p>But there was only one real reason I was there though: Korn in the tent. I can't remember exactly, but I think Korn are one of those bands I started liking as an ironic joke. But now I love them, or at least their older stuff and newer singles.</p> <p>It was an effort to get into the crowd. There were far too many people there to watch a big, big band in a relatively small place. However, they were amazing. The crowd was full of really hard looking people who had taken their tops off but we held our own, dancing, jumping, headbanging and circle pitting like it was 1999. During the kick in on Freak on a Leash, time stood still as I was suspended thirty foot in the air. In my mind, I landed and the whole site fell over, but I think in reality I just got panned by someone significantly bigger than me. Either way, it felt good. A number of year's ago, I got caught in a really strong wave and for a minute or so and couldn't escape it as it battered me around the beach rocks. A similar thing happened to me during 'Blind'. </p> <p><img src="http://www.24ur.com/media/images/extra/Sep2005/16062125.jpg" alt="Are you ready?" title="Are you ready?"></p> <p>Right now, I can't move my neck.</p> <p>The band finished and everyone sloped away from the tent to the main arena where My Chemical Romance were scheduled to be finishing. It was an apocalyptic site - thousands of sweaty Korn fans as far as the eye could see dragging themselves over the dusty hill and causing it to spiral into the air like some full on Vietnam shit. The fact that everybody was so battered and tired to walk properly, coupled with the low drone of all the nu-metallers booing MCR made me feel like I was in the middle of a zombie attack. The "emo sucks" chant stopped as we rounded towards the main stage and noticed that MCR had already finished. Despite the fact I wouldn't have minded catching a few songs of theirs, this was for the best. Those kids wouldn't have stood a chance. </p> <p>MCR are definately a band I hated, then liked for a joke and now secretly quite like. But only for some of their songs. Their general stance as The Man's choice to represent the drones who think their parents hate them for not letting them do wildly stupid and inappropriate things appalls me. They are emo barbie dolls - pull the draw chord to hear them say "fuck you to anybody who tells you what to do". The Black Parade is an amazing tune.</p> <p>The bus back decided it didnt want to pick us up so were forced to walk to the airport and had to wait for well over an hour for another with the most unsufferable and tiresome person I've ever met. Unfortunately, we already knew him and as soon as he turned up at the bus stop, the sigh from Joe and myself was audible. The wait combined with the bus ride meant we had to endure the phrases "jap's eye", "bumhole" and "motherfucker" strung together in every imaginable combination for nearly two hours. As soon as we got off the bus, we ran to get a kebab. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://witwap.blog.co.uk/2007/06/09/what_i_did_today~2421411/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:witwap.blog.co.uk,2007-04-12:/2007/04/12/what_i_did_today~2079248/T_Stash2007-04-12T16:52:17+02:002007-04-12T17:16:49+02:00 <p>Today, I have had a headache and what may be induced epilepsy.</p> <p><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/media/media_item.php?item_ID=1323095" title=""><img src="http://data2.blog.de/media/095/1323095_ed8da4a4d6_m.jpg" alt="" vspace="5" hspace="5"></a></p> <p>I look totally way sweet though and can see things before they happen </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://witwap.blog.co.uk/2007/04/12/what_i_did_today~2079248/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:witwap.blog.co.uk,2007-04-06:/2007/04/06/title~2043526/T_Stash2007-04-06T12:39:25+02:002007-04-07T10:45:05+02:00 <p>Yesterday I woke up at 7.45pm out of instinct. I went into the front room and watched Just Shoot Me. It was rubbish. I like to watch daytime TV to remind me I'm not at work, but I drew the line when The OC came on. It is a plague and I hate it.</p> <p>Before too long, Joe and I walked up to where the van is parked then got in it and drove off. I managed to buy 2 arcade cabinets for the price of £300 and we had to pick them up. I spent many an hour in my youth down at the swimming pool cafe playing such devices and as I get older, I find myself desperately trying to relive my childhood. Back then I didn't have to worry about things in general and buying arcade machines will definately make my life as carefree and easy as it was when I was 8.</p> <p>The arcade machines were the single heaviest things I have ever encountered. We managed to fit both of them into the van but it took 4 people who now have sore backs and blistered and bruised hands. One day later, I have blood and puss coming out from my thumb nail. Not content with telling me how much he hated me over and over again, Joe texted everyone in his phonebook to let them know too.</p> <p>When we got them out at the other end at our practice room, the fun really began. Removing them from the van with just two people was very tough. The man who owns our practice room was there. He is massive and dead strong and hard. He helped us by standing back laughing about how we had bought arcade machines. Luckily there is a lift up to our room. Stairs would have been impossible.</p> <p>We set them up side by side and truth be told, they look awesome. One had Soul Calibre in it which is a fighting game that i have never played before and got confused by. The other had Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles in it. Around the age of 10, Joe and I, along with our friends, used to travel up to Douglas (a town 15 miles away from where we lived) and tried to sneak into an over 16s arcade just to play this. We always got kicked out but it never stopped us trying again the following week. We used to even wander in wearing disguises and I don't think I'm inventing this when I say we once tried going in with one person sat on another's shoulders wearing a long coat to cover up the fact that there were two small people there. Turtles is not as good as I remembered it. </p> <p>Shortly after, we met with Gronz. He is an old house and band mate that is up visiting from London. He is incredible because he always looks great and never even makes an effort. He astounds even himself when he walks past windows and mirrors. If he did make an effort, the results would definately be mind blowing and he would rather be bummed by a dog than a man. We went to the oldest pub in the universe and ate Cajun Chicken baguettes in the beer garden. Gronz is a teacher too, though I was not drawn into too much whinging because I own arcade machines.</p> <p><img src="http://www.swound.co.uk/planetofswound/gronzrc5.jpg" alt="Gravesy + Fonz = Gronz" title="Gravesy + Fonz = Gronz"></p> <p>There was a foreign family sat behind us. Foreign people love to breast feed in public and these were no exception. I hate people that do this. They think because they have children theyre more important and besides, "it's natural man" so anybody who has a problem with it is the devil. The bottom line is that nobody wants to see a fat forty year old flapping her tit around in a babys' face. Her other children were playing a variation on pat-a-cake. It was similar except the rules involved you shouting and screaming at each other in a loud dutch tone of voice while you're parents don't show any consideration towards the mass of people sat around you having to raise their voice in order to have a normal conversation. </p> <p>We left and went to Sainsburys. The weather has been amazing so we decided to have a barbecue, only no shops are stocking disposables yet. Luckily, Rowan contacted us to say he found some left over from last year that looked fine but would probably make the food toxic. We bought some burgers and sausages, then left for Woollaton Park to eat. Rowan decided to cook, then got in a grump about it. He dropped at least one sausage but quickly shuffled it in with the rest whilst singing comedy songs to distract our vision. Kingy ended up getting it and had to pick the grit and grass out of his teeth. The rest of them tasted of poison but it felt like summer, so it was worth it. </p> <p><img src="http://www.foodnouveau.com/recipes/maincourse/barbecue/images/grill-disposable-grill.jpg" alt="Disposable Barbecue" title="Disposable Barbecue"></p> <p>After this we bid our farewells to Gravesy, then went our for drinks. Some guy started speaking to me in the pub. He was there for ages, knew all bout me and was boring. I had no idea who he was. At closing time, a rude man kicked us out, so we all went back to our homes. I went to sleep at this point. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://witwap.blog.co.uk/2007/04/06/title~2043526/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:witwap.blog.co.uk,2007-04-03:/2007/04/03/what_i_did_today~2024444/T_Stash2007-04-03T09:48:07+02:002007-04-05T08:16:58+02:00 <p>I have about an hour to go until I bid for an eighties arcade machine with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles on ebay so I will fill the time by writing about what I did yesterday.</p> <p>Yesterday, I woke up at the giddy time of nine o'clock. I am on my easter holidays and I keep having to remind myself that I don't have to go to work for two weeks. Everytime I do I get really excited. Recently, after months of trying, I finally sorted out my grievances with Gordon Brown. I have been working in my current job for over a year and a half and have been charged emergency tax all this time. As a result, I should be getting a big lump sum of cash in my next pay packet so I have decided to spend some money I don't have yet.</p> <p><img src="http://i10.ebayimg.com/01/i/000/93/59/0605_1.JPG" alt="An arcade machine" title="An arcade machine"></p> <p>So I headed straight out to the opticians to complete a plan I had been formulating for a while now. I have decided that I need a new pair of glasses, but fancied a bit of a change. Thusly, I have ordered a pair of thick rectangular (perhaps womens' or gays') glasses. The left lens will be red and the right lens will be blue. </p> <p>Firstly I had to ask whether they could actually do this. They said they supposed so, but needed to know why. The optician wandered whether I had a medical condition that had not been mentioned in their training. Not unless being awesome is a mecial condition, except I didn't say that. I told them it was to use as a kind of stage prop. My instincts told me not to go with fashion as an answer. I had to speak to several different members of staff during the ordering and fitting process and they all wanted to know why I wanted them, but every single one of them had respect in their smirks and frowns. </p> <p><img src="http://www.assistpoint.co.uk/Images/3D_Glasses/3d_glasses_red_blue_lenses_with_arms.jpg" alt="Mine are better and more expensive than these" title="Mine are better and more expensive than these"></p> <p>The woman at the final counter recognised my surname. It is the same one my brothers have and she knew this. My three younger brothers have all bought glasses from there in the past month. Joe went first and his were huge and stupid, like an old man with not much money might wear. Then Rowan went and his were even bigger and more circular and he perhaps looked even more of a twat than Joe. Lloyd went last. His glasses were bigger than his face. She knew my game and told me she looked forward to seeing what came next from us. </p> <p>I also got a pair of sunglasses in the buy one get one free offer and used this to justify my 3D glasses. In a week, I will never have to look at 2D objects again. I paid £130 for these two sets.</p> <p>I then wandered around town buying CDs. I returned home, burnt them all onto my Ipod, then went back out and just walked for a while. After my ankle injury a few weeks back, I have not been able to run at all to train for the Tough Guy race I am doing in July. The weather was really nice so I just enjoyed the sun and listened to music whilst fusing my ligaments.</p> <p>I got back and played Mario Golf for a while with Joe and then generally killed time until the highlight of the week: Prison Break. This is probably even better than 24. Not many programmes are capable of turning a murderous peadophile into my hero, but this one does. After another hour of tension, I went to bed. </p> <p>Which brings me to now. I have just got a message from my Dad telling me the hilarious tale of my Grandad going 10 pen bowling. My Grandad is Polish and doesn't get many things. He is a bit like Mr Bean. Once upon a time, he was hammering fence posts in and couldn't find a mallet. He hammered them into the ground with his bare hands, broke a few fingers and gave himself an abcess. His hands and fingers are now three times the size of a regular human's and it looks like he has a set of bent and enlarged sausages attached to a stump. Apparently, he could not fit his fingers in the bowling ball and the whole affair was typically hilarious. He also moves very stiffly, despite his general fitness so resorted to robotically chucking the ball down the lane</p> <p>My Grandad does many, many stupid things and we are generally desensitised to them. I'm not sure, but I wander if many of them are calculated for his audiences delight. Obviously shattering your hands because you can't be bothered to go inside and fetch the correct tool isn't the best example to demonstrate his comedy streak. However, I don't care what people tell me, speaking to a guide at legoland and asking him for directions only to find he is yellow and made out of lego shrieks of genius to me.</p> <p>I did wander if I am maybe going through some kind of mid life crisis, but I'm far too young for that. In which case, I look forward to seeing what kind of amazing things I'll buy in 20-30 years time. I am currently trying to work out whether I can get prescription x-ray specs. Princess Anne is outside my front window looking lost and boring everybody so I'm going to put on some loud music</p> <p>As an added bonus feature to this entry, I have included a conversation I had online with my mum...</p> <p><strong>rowan is my favourite son says:</strong><br> why?<br> <strong>Edward Fingerhands says:</strong><br> think about what theyll look like and what ill look like wearing them, then think whether you need to ask that question<br> <strong>rowan is my favourite son says:</strong><br> Er - 27 this year?<br> <strong>rowan is my favourite son says:</strong><br> Anyway, have they any benefits to your vision.<br> <strong>Edward Fingerhands says:</strong><br> i will be able to see in 3d<br> <strong>rowan is my favourite son says:</strong><br> You will fall over all the time.<br> <strong>Edward Fingerhands says:</strong><br> im more worried about headaches<br> <strong>rowan is my favourite son says:</strong><br> silly bugger. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://witwap.blog.co.uk/2007/04/03/what_i_did_today~2024444/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:witwap.blog.co.uk,2007-02-15:/2007/02/15/title~1748332/T_Stash2007-02-15T22:31:40+01:002007-02-16T08:09:51+01:00 <p>Today, I woke up at the late hour of 7.05. I have a free period lesson one so had no desperate need to get into school and sort out my lessons as quickly. Officially, I have no management duties and I am no longer an NQT so I get raped for lessons as much as is legally allowed. Today, I had two hours free and on top of this, my year group had an assembly first thing which meant I had a break from telling them off, shaking my head and generally despairing for the first 25 minutes of the day.</p> <p>However, assembly was to be shameful. It was the mystical rewards assembly. Students at our school are issued red slips when theyve been bad and these all contribute to detentions and other punishments. The idea was that we put all the kids who have never had one of these into a draw where they can win an Amazon gift voucher. Form by form, their names would all be flashed up on the assembly wall. Out of a form group of 24 kids, I had 7 names up there. 8B had 19. As the names flashed up on the board and everyone watched on, I knew it wasn't going to be good. But at least we'd definately beat 8G as theyre famous for being rank. When a classlist flashed up, you knew there would be loads by the size of the font each name was written in. When my form came up, it was massive. But we'd beat 8G and second last, although not good, will surely not be subject to a public witchhunt.</p> <p>8G had 10 names and my sigh was audible to the entire hall whn I realised. Deep down, I knew this would happen. When the shaming session came, the class were no longer 8O, they were MY form. Mr S's class had to do better, because Mr S's class were bottom. Everyone was looking at me and I could do nothing but hang my head. And I'd cheated. Two of the names on my list had a red slip the day before, but it was feasible that I might not have picked it up until after half term, so I ignored them for the time being. I had tried to cheat more, adding names of kids that only had one for a minor offense, but a rival form tutor (for 8M) had got wind of this and stopped me going through with it. She had 11 names on hers. Bitch.</p> <p>I have taught every child in her form in the past and still teach a lot of them this year. I asked for the list of her pupils. I was surprised by one or two names and made a note of them. We are running the same initiative for the 2nd half of the year. Her bunch of smart asses will last one week after half term before I nail them for breathing loudly. Afterwards, when away from an accusing audience, I gave the rallying speech. I voiced my disgust at being beaten by 8C and told them if nothing else, we have to beat 8M next time. I'll keep my end up by punishing anyone in 8M for doing nothing, but it required teamwork. They had to put in the effort too. If it takes bribery on my part, then so be it.</p> <p>Later on, I bumped in to the smug goody two shoes who had the best behaved form. I congratulated her through gritted teeth. She accepted my disdainful praise then told me she'd cheated and included anyone with 2 FUCKING RED SLIPS. She said she felt ok about this because she knew other tutors had done it too. The gloves are now off. I have the worst behaved boy in the entire school, currently out on his third suspension since joining us after getting expelled from a nearby school. He will have no logged red slips next term, even if it means extending his suspension by 6 months.</p> <p>I was then given an incident report for the 2nd worst behaved boy in school, also in my form. He had apparently stuck his hand down his trousers for a short while before withdrawing it and rubbing it all over a girl's face. He was sent to solitary confinement straight away pending a suspension. But I managed to hang, draw and quarter him without the use of the usual red paperwork. Foul as it is, this incident will fly under the radar in terms of the behaviour competition. If there's a few crotch wipings along the way, it's for the greater good.</p> <p>Later on that day, I was using some computers in the library when a mixed year 8 class was in there. One boy in 8M was misbehaving and getting a telling off. I sidled up to his teacher and informed her that he had never had a red slip and if he got one, it would sort him out good and proper. I turned round and his form teacher was behind me. I had been rumbled. Not only did she go and tell her class my game, she has promised to use the same underhand tactics against my bottom feeders.</p> <p>As if to hammer the point home about what a devilish selection of heathens I have at my command, I was then reported another incident. One nice boy had been set upon by a pack of rabid first years. Horrible first year kids who despite being about two foot tall, think they own the world. My charge gave as good as he got, despite being outnumbered and was now in a spot of bother. Because I hate all the other boys involved my advice was a slightly better worded version of the following:</p> <p>"As your teacher and a responsible adult, I have to tell you to drop it and not to retaliate. But my dad always told me once you'd pummelled somebody in the temples til they're dead, they won't bother you again."</p> <p>I still can't understand why 8O had done so badly in the first behaviour challenge.</p> <p>Loads of other things happened, but nothing that will help me win the end of year rewards assembly, so none of them matter. Bastards. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://witwap.blog.co.uk/2007/02/15/title~1748332/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:witwap.blog.co.uk,2007-02-10:/2007/02/10/what_i_did_today~1715847/T_Stash2007-02-10T15:56:10+01:002007-02-10T15:58:05+01:00 <p>Yesterday, there had been talk of an all night blizzard. We were expecting seven inches of snow. Today, I woke up at three am to check for snow. Then again at about half four to check for snow. Then again at about half five. I stayed up this time to check for snow. It didn't snow at any point so there was to be no escape from school today. All the things I was going to do on my day off were going to have to wait. For this I was angry - these things never go to plan. However, as a further kick in the face, our flat was freezing. I had woken up before the heating and had to run around getting ready in an effort to stay warm. Even when the heating did come on, it made little difference. I washed, cleaned my teeth, dressed then left the house. I was wearing mittens and my big wooly hat. I found this hat on the floor at the Reading Festival last year. I kept it because it has a badge of Flat Eric on it. I liked Flat Eric in an ironic way, before forgetting this and just liking him for being sick. Everything I like started in this way and as a result, I now listen to too much Limp Bizkit and use the phrase 'sick' too much.</p> <p><img src="http://www.the-x-files.de/flat%20eric/flateric.jpg" alt="Flat Eric" title="Flat Eric"></p> <p>As i walked to the bus stop, I squinted at the glow of the streetlights and noted three snowflakes blowing around pathetically. It was a depressing sight. By the time I reached school, it was snowing fairly hard, but it was too late: I was at work for the day now and it was going to be hell. One by one, other teachers turned up moaning about the lack of overnight snow. One even came in and returned my hello by shouting "fucking snow" at me and kicking his bag. In order to cheer the mood, I had a bet with one or two others about who could rack up the most detentions today for snow related bad behaviour.</p> <p>Before lessons started, I had to walk to the other building on our school site to attend a pointless briefing. Stupidly, I went late without a pack of teachers to defend myself in. I had to cross the playground by myself and I could see them all out there with snowballs. I hurried through the kids looking at everyone suspiciously before entering the Year 11 sector. I have never taught any year 11s but recognised the lurking few as trouble makers. I am only 5 foot 4, I wear big glasses and I don't look old enough to be a teacher. I manage to win over the kids I teach with my lovable personality, rapier like wit and youthful enthusiasm for terminal moraine and oxbow lakes. However, as an unknown quantity I am Harry Potter and need taking down a peg for daring to be in a position of authority. </p> <p>As soon as my back was turned, the snowballs came. I span round and walked straight into the gang of thugs. I knew I would get no names, but fortunately I recognised one from a previous run in. In front of his friends, I promised him he'd be up before the headmaster on an exclusion unless he grassed in his friends there and then, right in front of them. I couldn't have pulled that threat off, but he is a stupid child and didn't realise this. He swore, panicked then gave me a name. His friends all bombarded him with their snowballs, leaving them with nothing more to get me with. I had the upper hand now so started winding them up and they all began losing their temper. It was only a matter of time before reinforcements arrived and I wanted them all at fever pitch by this point so I could bag every single one for a detention. Eventually, our security guard waded in and backed me up with some identities. I managed to get two for an afterschool detention. </p> <p>Snow detention count: 2</p> <p>My first lesson went off without a hitch. My room overlooks the killing field, so I took up a vigil at the window whilst I waited for my next grubby class to show up. I noted one of my nice year 8 students crossing to the other building and out of nowhere, one year 11, who I have frequent run ins with, dashed out from behind a tree and pelted her in the face with a snowball. I had my stack of detention slips with me and filled one out instantly for him. Then his friends appeared and went on the rampage. They were possessed - the snow had turned them into savages - more so than normal. They were aiming at nothing and everything, their tongues were flailing around and their eyeballs had rolled into the back of their heads. One missile came over towards the first floor window I was looking out of and hit it right next to my face. The culprit looked up and saw me. I just grinned and held up the distinctive red detention slip. Instead of backing down, he began thrusting at me, so I filled one out for him and referred him to his head of year.</p> <p>Snow detention count: 4</p> <p><img src="http://news.bbc.co.uk/olmedia/900000/images/_900460_liam300.jpg" alt="Not quite the stance I was doing" title="Not quite the stance I was doing"></p> <p>At lunch time, I took up my watch again. A load of my nice year 10 students began having a snowball fight. They noticed me and pelted the window. I laughed at their carefree exuberance and did a Liam Gallagher style pose, inviting them to try again as I knew I was safe behind the window. Most people say the key to being a successful teacher is consistency. Then, I noted a tiny year 7 bombing through the playground getting anyone in his way. He hit a year 10 girl square in the face. I laughed a bit, but wasn't seen doing so. Next thing I knew, she keeled over before coming inside crying. When I went to check up on the scene, it turned out that the little toad had hid a rock in his snowball.</p> <p>Snow detention count: 5</p> <p>That was to be my final one of the day. As far as I'm aware, I had the most, but will have to double check tomorrow. The rest of the day was fairly uneventful. My form group kept calling me Ruprecht every time they saw me because my english teaching nemesis has said I only said my first name is Tom because I'm embarrassed about the truth. Recently, I had to take a series of lessons on friendship and I invented a fake falling out scenario between me and another thoeretical teacher at school because I called him a slaphead and said he had a stupid posh voice. This was one part of his revenge for that and it was surprisingly effective. Part two was that whenever I was nearby, he coughed into his hand and shouted faggot. He's good, I'll give him that, but I always manage to come out on top.</p> <p>In the final lesson of the day, there was a year 9 riot next door. I went in to sort it out three times, but the supply teacher was a cretin. When I went in for the final time, he threatened to have me in front of his union because somebody had chucked a plastic bottle at him. I had disrupted my lesson several times to help him and did not appreciate him being a twat. I left him to be eaten alive. </p> <p>By the time I went home, most of the snow had melted. I am now praying it starts again for tomorrow and am currently making plans as to how I can make the best of my day off. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://witwap.blog.co.uk/2007/02/10/what_i_did_today~1715847/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:witwap.blog.co.uk,2006-12-02:/2006/12/02/title~1392734/T_Stash2006-12-02T12:03:21+01:002006-12-03T00:06:41+01:00 <p>I have had a really hectic few weeks. Recently, I have been very, very busy with work (mainly because of Ofstead have been into our school), very busy doing stuff with our band and I have also had a couple of illnesses. With one of them, my face was swollen up and i looked rank for a few days and with another i was spectacularly sick and slept on and off for 24 hours. I have spent the last few weeks getting excited about the German Market that sets up near our flat. I have been arriving home in the evening and running to check if it's there yet. I finally rang the council to get its arrival date and when I found out, we organised a bit of a party around it. I ate quite a lot there, then threw it up the following morning. That devilish place has now been tainted forever. Bratwurst will never have the same appeal again.</p> <p><img src="http://www.oldmatador.com/images/snackdown/bratwurst.jpg" alt="Starting to warm to them again already" title="Starting to warm to them again already"></p> <p>Everybody at our school was scared stiff of the inspectors that have been in. I wasn't at all, until I saw everyone panicking and realised what was at stake. Basically, there was a chance I'd get observed and their judgement of how good our department was would have solely been down to my performance. Therefore, I began to worry too. I know I am good at my job. Largely, kids enjoy my lessons, like me and do well. But I don't pander to the man. I do things on my terms and they differ slightly from what the paperwork specifies as being good practice. Luckily for me, I had inside information that the geography observation would be done in a colleagues class. After all, she's head of the department and they were focusing on leadership and management, so it made sense.</p> <p>Of course, second lesson, after twenty minutes, some miserable old man walked into the room and sat in my chair. He just watched. Luckily, the class were working hard, I was prancing around enthusiastically, they were getting excited about the difference between lava and magma and at the end, the assessment for learning activity I had devised visibly impressed the inspector with how much the kids were improving because of each other and not because of me. He left completely happy with our department, largely thanks to my skills.</p> <p>Flashback twenty minutes, before he had entered the classroom: "Right, we may have an inspector in today. He is judging me and this lesson needs to be good and by the book. Therefore, if I do something I don't normally do, DO NOT question me. Just go with it and look happy to be here. And above all, behave."</p> <p>As soon as he came in, I wandered around the room giving pupils their prompts about what to do and say and they all did it. He thought I was discussing the tasks and how to iprove their levels marks, but truth be told, I was weaving my elaborate web of deception right in front of his eyes. I played the inspectors like fools.</p> <p>The following day, the inspectors were still in. I had a bit of an unofficial observation in an RS lesson that went well, but for a brief moment of panic. I have a banter war going on with a colleague. It is now getting very near to the point where one of us going to cross the line. Recently, we have been passing damning lies to each other through some of the pupils in order to gain one upmanship. My last strike came in the previous week. He has a library lesson whilst I have a free period, so I often go into the library to use the computers. His class is the same as one I teach. He winds me up about looking like Peter Parker, I respond by pointing out the similarities between him and Penfold. Whilst I was in the library, I printed out a picture of Danger Mouse and added the caption "Fear Me". I then gave it to one of the pupils to give to him when I was out of the room.</p> <p>Forwarding to my library lesson, when I was in the middle of a speech in the library with most of Ofstead sitting in the corner, my nemesis appeared. He just stood there grinning with his hands on his hips. I tried not to be vexed by him, but he just stood there, smiling. This was a development I did not want. In the end, professionalism prevailed and he went. But he's left his mark and I will destroy him. After the idiotic drawing of me dancing that I'd found on my desk, he has had two unanswered strikes and justice will be dealt swift and mercilessly.</p> <p><img src="http://www.edirectory.co.uk/pf/images/products/955/images/spade.jpg" alt="Dig, stupid boy!" title="Dig, stupid boy!"></p> <p>Then I taught a pretty dodgy year 8 class. Referred to as "The Diggers", because there are a few people in there who will only be capable of digging holes for a living, they are not the easiest bunch. There are seven children with learning difficulties in there and three with behavioural problems. Overall, there are 33 kids in this class. Normally, I get a teaching assistant to support me and them, but on inspection day, i was told there wouldn't be any. I was mostly sure I wouldnt get seen again so took it a bit easier. I didn't get seen and I'm glad. It was a good lesson, the kids who struggle with normal work had different more appropriate work that they managed, the naughty kids behaved and they all learned what I wanted them to. However, on the way I had the obligatory temper tantrum from one girl who started stamping her feet and shouting "I hate you, you're well sad". She never really means it, she only does it because it's expected of her, so I spent the rest of the lesson winding her up in front of the class. Partly because I know she quite likes it and partly because such a mischevious streak keeps the rest of the kids on my side too. Of course, such genius is above the inspector's comprehension and I know I would have got roasted if they'd seen it.</p> <p>We did well in the inspection and everyone was happy. My nemesis turned up massively hung over the following morning. I spent the whole day shouting at him to ask how his head was. This is not official retaliation, this is just me toying with him</p> <p>I haven't got much sleep recently. It's the weekend now and I intend to sleep a lot. I'll eat lots too </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://witwap.blog.co.uk/2006/12/02/title~1392734/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:witwap.blog.co.uk,2006-11-12:/2006/11/12/what_i_did_today~1322120/T_Stash2006-11-12T16:06:01+01:002006-11-12T16:06:01+01:00 <p>Today I woke up at 6.25. I had hoped it would be earlier so I could go back to sleep, but with my alarm being set to go off in ten more minutes, I did not think it would be worth the pain of waking up again. I got up, washed my teeth, thought about putting contact lenses in, realised I'd need another half hour, didn't, sorted my hair out and made a cup of tea. I sat in the front room looking out over the square. The Christmas decorations are going up in town. I try to tell myself it's too early and that I shouldn't like it, but I do. It looked cold and frosty as well and I liked that too, because it looked like Christmas. Christmas is an amazing idea which father christmas should be proud of. Now, I like it even more than I did when i was younger because it means time off work as well as presents and food.</p> <p>I left the house and then liked the cold and frost a bit less. It was freezing, but I had my duffle coat and mittens. I sat in the bus shelter, but did not enjoy doing so. They have taken it over with an advert for some kind of music download thing. I sleepily waited for the number four bus in darkened sub zero temperatures with Fat Man Scoop shouting loudly at me. The other people waiting seemed equally unimpressed, but we could not shut him up. </p> <p><img src="http://aightgenossen.ch/images/content/thumbs/996_fat_man_scoop_pic.jpg" alt="The first time I have ever seen Fat man scoop was when i searched for this picture, yet I still knew this would be exactly what came up" title="The first time I have ever seen Fat man scoop was when i searched for this picture, yet I still knew this would be exactly what came up"></p> <p>The bus was sweet sanctuary from the technology that has invaded the bus stop. I put on my headphones and listened to some Nirvana. The Metro vendor had not appeared this morning so I had nothing to read on the journey. Everybody else seemed equally at a loss - particularly as today is film review day. Its normally the same people I ride with on the 7.15 number 4. I think there is solidarity there, but I never speak to any of them.</p> <p>Firstly at school, I had to deal wih my dastardly form group. One very nice girl is having temper tantrums at home and Mum is concerned. I said I wasn't because she's fine with me and getting on well at school, but this wasn't a good enough answer. Mum told me all about a family holiday that has just been ruined by the girl in question. She threw rocks at her older brother, refused to go on outings and was generally a volatile nuisance. I already knew this, but my reaction to Mum was different than it was to the daughter because I didn't laugh at her. I put on an adult voice and tried to sound worried and sympathetic. I'm convinced this is a home issue and nothing to do with me but I said I'd see what I could do. I have given the girl permission to have a twenty minute temper tantrum at me every lunch as long as she's nice at home. So far she's declining, though all her friends want to take me up on it to the point where I'm being offered money.</p> <p>During my first lesson, a pupil from year nine ran in and shouted "everybody in the class, you have to call sir Spiderman from now on!" then ran out singing the spider man theme tune.</p> <p>Later on, I had an observation by my very picky head of department in RS. I had prepared a good lesson, all to do with expressing opinions. It started off with loads of statements being flashed up on the board though my laptop and a projector. One side of the room was for those that agreed and the other was for those that disagreed. They could stand anywhere in the middle depending on how strong their opinions were. As long as they could explain themselves by saying i agree or disagree because... then I didnt care where they stood. It started with "boys are cleverer than girls", went to "sharks are better than hamsters", then rattled through a couple of topical ones before it ended with "Your religious studies teachers is the greatest teacher of all time." It had a picture of me grinning and sticking my thumbs up. I immediately told members of my form group off when they ran to the disagree side and began hugging the wall as tightly as possible.</p> <p><img src="http://www.nationalvanguard.org/images/teaser/orthodox.jpeg" alt="Jew" title="Jew"></p> <p>After a few other tasks about expressing their opinions concerning what it would be like to live as an orthodox jew, i gave them some more statements to end the lesson. This time, they were related to Judaism. However, as I knew this was being observed, the final statement said "Sir is a better looking human specimen than Miss". This threw the room into panic. Where could they all stand? Firstly, they went to the agree side, before the head of RS demanded they go to the other side. The weaker kids broke and ran across, though some of my teacher's pets held fast. One lad got caught in the cross fire, wandering in circles around the middle of the room saying "but i don't fancy either." He looked like he was about to cry. Another boy sat on the disagree side shouting "ha ha, gay!" to those opposing him. In the end, I lost out and those in the class who belong to my form group will be punished.</p> <p>The rest of the day was pretty standard. Two best friends have spent a year and a half being taught by a colleague and she has their names muddled up to the point where they get each others reports at parent's evening. I have taken to deliberately getting their names wrong and now everyone in that class is confused, including me. I got accused of being really annoying by them, to which i told them they haven't seen anything yet. I'm too small and youthful to intimidate anyone. I control my classes by blackmail and being an irritant.</p> <p>I also experienced a relatively familiar situation when I returned to my room after lunch. I found it had been compromised. My band name had been scribbled all over the white boards and on bits of paper that had been distributed all round my class (including in my pencil case). After over a year, they have found out what the group I play in is called. Despite our lack of fame, many are star struck, but when you rule by irritation, you expect revenge from some of the less impressionable subjects. Here it was scattered around my room. I assembled a tactical and finished the clean up just before my next lesson.</p> <p>I got home and was excited. I have recently bought the season 5 box set of 24 and have been watching it whenever I've had a spare minute. It is amazing and I can't go anywhere without doing a threat assessment and considering who I could shoot or where I could hide. I have also changed my vocabulary to use words such as compromise and cross fire. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://witwap.blog.co.uk/2006/11/12/what_i_did_today~1322120/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:witwap.blog.co.uk,2006-11-01:/2006/11/01/title~1286152/T_Stash2006-11-01T21:51:13+01:002006-11-05T02:01:24+01:00 <p>Today, I woke up at half six. My eyes burned because I was so tired . This is because last night, for the second night running, our band had been playing and I hadn't got back to the flat til about 1am. As a one off, I can manage this kind of feat, but doing it two nights in a row was hard. It was worth it though as the show had been fun. Because it was Halloween, we all dressed up. However, our choice was a controversial one - our costumes were all based on Al Jolson. I was worried by this because all the children at the school where I teach check our website and I certainly did not want them seeing pictures of this event and to be thought of as a racist. I said I would go along with it providing we ended up looking so stupid that people realised we were just being comedy twats and not making any kind of actual statement. People who are familiar with us know we don't put that much thought into stuff for it to mean anything or to be taken seriously.</p> <p><img src="http://www.subvulture.com/archive/white_xmas_al_jolson.jpg" alt="Al Jolson: not a racist" title="Al Jolson: not a racist"></p> <p>When I turned up at the venue, I was given a shirt and a straw boater hat. We had a pot of Snazaroo black face paint and some red lipstick. I grew more concerned. Then Rowan brought out the best alternative he could find to a pumpkin - a watermelon. I grew even more concerned. Being Rowan, I'm not sure he realised the significance of his stop gap pumpkin, but that thing struck fear into my very heart. I put my foot down by saying I wouldn't play if a feature was made of the watermelon. None of the others could understand why it was causing me such distress, but all I could think of was being on the front cover of the local papers. "Council blunder: Racist employed in local school."</p> <p>I tried unsuccessfully to sleep backstage before we played. The other band members were next door putting on their make up and this was enough to keep me awake. Thankfully, they looked so utterly stupid that my worries soon disappeared and I blacked up with glee. When I walked out on stage as part of our Halloween Jolson troupe, two things worried me. The first one was the watermelon, sitting on the amp on Rowan's side of the stage. Again, Rowan is not racist, but he also doesn't ever think of the consequences of anything he ever does. I could quite easily see him latching onto the presence of the fruit and blurting something thoughtless out in a classic Rowan moment.</p> <p><img src="http://www.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/108681/2/istockphoto_108681_watermelon.jpg" alt="Watermelon: not a racist" title="Watermelon: not a racist"></p> <p>The other worrying thing was that there was a man dressed as Goebells waiting at the front barrier. He may have wanted to kill us, or befriend us and neither option was appealing. I just crossed my fingers, ploughed through the set and everything turned out fine. There was something unifying in the sight of Goebells square dancing with Sylvester the Cat and the devil boy to a band of minstrels. I could sleep easy tonight: our carefree disregard for offending people had won the crowd over. There was only one person that kept shouting "racists" at us, but fortunately, he likes ska music. Our good natured ignorance was taken entirely in the way it was intended: good natured but ignorant</p> <p>Afterwards I helped shift the equipment, scrubbed the make-up off my face and headed home. This morning, I noticed the make up wasnt completey off around my eyes, but i couldnt seem to shift it. As a reult, I went to school with traces of Jolson still on my face. I was quizzed on it several times by pupils and teachers. When asked if I was wearing eyeliner, I didn't want to say yes, but I also didn't want to say I'd gone to a halloween show as a racist and the remnants of this were still under my eyes. I told them I was just tired and it seemed to do the trick. I didn't want to be caught out again. On the weekend I had drawn a face on my forefinger and thumb so I could pretend to speak to people with my hand. The only problem was that I had done it in permanent marker. Loads of people asked me about it at work and lots of children have decided to do it themselves. I was glad to still have it on when I needed something to amuse me in all the really long boring meetings we have had so far this week.</p> <p>It is early evening now and I plan on being asleep very soon. I am not a racist. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://witwap.blog.co.uk/2006/11/01/title~1286152/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:witwap.blog.co.uk,2006-10-19:/2006/10/19/title~1237869/T_Stash2006-10-19T10:04:17+02:002006-10-19T12:58:54+02:00 <p>I have been very busy recently and as a result, I have a number of accounts of what I did on various days that have not quite been finished. I will try my best to finish them off and post them up. Here is the first one from a couple of weeks ago...</p> <p>Today I woke up at 7.10 am. I washed, cleaned my teeth and got dressed. I also put on some moisturiser because I have dry skin. We have a huge tub of generic boots moisturiser that cost about 50p. Joe hates it so much that he has banished it to the airing cupboard with all the other things in the flat that we don't like to look at. It's only constituent is water, which is why it was probably so cheap. It burns. </p> <p>I left the house in non uniform because today I am going to Castlton in the Peak District with our year 9's. I wore a blue and red stripey jumper I own. I bought it because it's a bit like Artie the Strongest Man in the World's from The Adventures of Pete and Pete and he is my hero. Indie fops and effeminate scenesters seem to like it. Men's men don't. I knew it was a gamble: I have taught most of our school's year nines to death. Over familiarity has led to them singing the Spider Man theme at me (they think I look like Peter Parker), threatening to slap me and referring to me as short arse to my face. I suppose I bring it on myself as I have referred to the main culprits as idiots and munters before. It's all banter. Fortunately, I pulled the jumper off with style and the comments were all of admiration.</p> <p><img src="http://grumpygirl.blogs.com/photos/honeymoon/301_castleton_from_peveril_castle.JPG" alt="Castleton" title="Castleton"></p> <p>It took an hour and a half to get to Castleton on the coach. I didn't need it, but I had brought a can of Relentless to keep me awake. I didn't want to be caught asleep and dribbling on myself. When we got to Castleton, our group was doing a survey of the village first. It was the teacher's job to wander around and supervise. The Head of Key Stage 3 and I wandered off to do our duty but instead disappeared inside a tea shop and ate and drank. We finished, then went to the chip shop and ate and drank some more. We started a trend and the kids all followed us in. One pupil had spent all his money on jelly beans and couldnt afford chips. He looked ill and claimed he needed something savoury to balance it all out. I like more vinegar on things than anybody else I have ever met. This time, even I'd slightly over done it to the point where my face started to melt when I tried eating the bottom few. It was impossible to breath within about a foot of the tray, so I offered it up. He ate most of them with a look of death and then had to go and sit down for the remainder of the morning. Pleased with myself, my teaching accomplice and I wandered off to the next stop: the cake shop. Once we'd finished there, it was time to move on to our afternoon destination in Castleton - a massive hill we were supposed to walk up.</p> <p>However, I was in for a surprise. Amongst the half of the year we were taking today, it had one pregnant girl (aged 13) who couldn't do the walk and several Muslim kids. It is the middle of Ramadan which means they are fasting - no food or drink between sunrise and sunset. Because of the hot weather and the length of the walk, they were staying down in the village too. One of them is a naughty young man who swears so much he has been tested for tourettes. The diagnosis was that he just has a foul mouth. My instructions were to watch them all whilst particularly not letting the naughty one out of my site.</p> <p>Until the other group got down from the hills I had to conatin them in the car park in Castleton. Tourettes saw a group of primary school kids on a trip. He targeted the asian lads by shouting at them in a agressive form of Arabic. I couldn't tell what he was saying, but when he then told me he really wanted to beat someone up, I knew it wasn't anything nice. He then started on pretty much his only topic of conversation: mobile phones. Mine was rubbish you see. If he were to 'teef' one, he would only get 50p for it. He had one mobile phone that was indestructible. He threw it fifty feet in the air once, apparently. Before it landed, he smashed it with a cricket bat and made it go 60 miles an hour. Even when it hit the wall, it didn't break. He could get me one of those for £20. He then got a pouch out of his pocket. It had 11 sim cards in. When I asked him what he needed 11 sim cards for, he tapped his nose, winked and replied "I know a lot of people".</p> <p><img src="http://www.phone-insurance4uk.co.uk/images/mobile-phone-image-handset-nokia-6680-orange-nop.jpg" alt="A mobile phone. We talked lots about these" title="A mobile phone. We talked lots about these"></p> <p>To get rid of him, I told him to go in the gift shop. Him and his pal were back within a few seconds. They had been kicked out. According to them, it was racism, but the sign outside the shop told me differently. School children were not allowed in without a teacher. So I went in with them. The woman told us that bringing more people in wouldn't help, we still had to leave if we weren't with an adult. Rather than degrade myself in front of the kids by trying to explain I was their teacher, I just left quickly. The boys were too busy checking each others mobile phones to hear this affront to my maturity and I didn't want them getting wind of it. I dragged them outside muttering something about not wanting to give custom to racists.</p> <p>When the other group arrived, I was allowed to let my play dates wander around the village, so long as I didn't let them out my sight. I did this for a while, shouting "Get out of the road" every few seconds before realising it would make my life easier if Tourettes got run over. However, to my dismay, the boys wanted me to walk round with them. I kept offering them sweets and things, forgetting it was Ramadan. You could see the pained look on their faces. Before long, I got sick of them and tried to abandon my mission. However, they just followed me round talking about contract vs pay as you go. I could not get rid of them.</p> <p>Two hours later, when my group got back down from the hills, I was a nervous wreck who knew the street value of every mobile phone to have existed in the last ten years. The journey back took another hour and a half and I got home at around 6. I have to do it all agin with the other year half tomorrow, but at least I'll be off babysitting duties and tourettes will be a good 50 miles away. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://witwap.blog.co.uk/2006/10/19/title~1237869/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:witwap.blog.co.uk,2006-09-24:/2006/09/24/title~1155947/T_Stash2006-09-24T15:16:54+02:002006-09-24T15:53:13+02:00 <p>Today I woke up at 8am. I was disappointed by this because I had only gone to bed four hours earlier and desperately wanted a decent sleep, but it didn't happen. I tried to drift back off, but I'm poor at sleeping in the mornings. I got up and had a bath. It was hot. I have the flat to myself at the minute because everyone is in France and the biggest luxury this involves is hot water. I had forgotten how good it was and stayed in for about half an hour.</p> <p>Lloyd had been round yesterday and left an assortment of useless items he had picked up on his travels. One of these was a note pad headed "Things I need to do". The first bullet point had been filled in for me on every page - ring Prontaprint today for all my printing requirements. I know their game and didn't fall for it. Being that the flat was free of distractions, I thought I would fill the rest in and spend a day being productive. I am a laughing stock with my head of department at school because of my inability to conduct myself in a logical fashion in terms of being organised. Because of this, I am starting to try hard to operate more successfully within time and space. This basically means keeping one step ahead of what I'm doing to avoid last minute panics and losing things.</p> <p>Number one on the list was to go shopping. I have been living off Subways for the last couple of days because I couldn't be bothered to go to Tesco. So before it had even got to nine o'clock, I trundled out to the supermarket. I bought lots of healthy food. The queue was already really long at the checkout, but I was in no rush. However, just as I was getting near the till, a grinning man with a big moustache and a yellow builders jacket appeared to my right. He had a roast chicken in a greasy paper bag. I eyed him up suspiciously. I had suspected as much because of his profession, but his back pocket confirmed my worst fears: it had a copy of the Sun in it. He was working class.</p> <p><img src="http://lennthompson.typepad.com/lenndevours/images/perfectchicken.jpg" alt="A Roast chicken (out of bag)" title="A Roast chicken (out of bag)"></p> <p>Now, I am comfortably middle class. This is because my parents worked hard so they didn't have to scrape their way through life and now similarly, I work hard so I don't have to. I don't expect things for free and I don't think the world owes me anything. So when I see a queue, I wait in it patiently. When I say this man was working class, I mean it only in the generic sense of the word. He was clearly a free loading sponger and I knew what he was up to.</p> <p>With the queue about fifteen people long and me now second in line, he pushed in front of the old lady who was putting her shoppng on the conveyor belt and gave the check out girl his chicken. She meekly said she'd already scanned an object in for the next legitimate customer and it would be better if he went to the cigarette kiosk to pay. His response: "no, there's a queue there." </p> <p>This was too much and I decided to step in "What, like this big line here that you've just walked past?" His response was chillingly predictable. Echoing an incident from the Reading Festival (see a few entries back) he told me to chill out mate. I told him that I would when he got to the back of the queue and he just winked at me and began paying for his chicken. The woman at the counter pussied it and let him through. I was really angry. However as he trotted off grinning, he gave me my opening by stumbling on a raised bit of tile. He sped up to get away, but we'd all seen it. "Finish him!" said the voice in my head, so I landed the killer blow. "Send me a post card next time, mate." I had to shout it to him to make sure he heard and this meant everybody else did too. It got the laughs. I now hope he gets salmonella off his greasy chicken.</p> <p>When I got home I looked at the next thing on the list - update our band's website. I posted some unflattering pictures of Rowan and slated him and Joe on the front page. We had received an email from a kid at my school. Our band's name is a closely guarded secret there because I don't want pupils finding our site and watching videos of me being even more irresponsible than they think I am. However, the chicken is now out of the bag, which could make school interesting this week. Bearing this in mind, I deleted the video of me swearing at Norman Wisdom and playing some pretty awesome air guitar to Johnny B Goode.</p> <p>With that completed, I now had to tidy the flat. The only thing I've done in it over the last few days is sleep so I was confused as to how I'd made it such a mess, but I set about clearing it up. I put on some Adam Ant and cleared all the half drank mugs of tea from the coffee table. Singing "Fardiddly-kwa-kwa" at the top of my voice, I washed out the remnants of my depressing week day morning ritual. I ironed my big pile of washed clothes and even put them away. I then put some more washing on because of the power of hot water. Then, because I had food, I made lunch - bacon, lettuce and mayonnaise in pitter bread. I felt organisation flow through me. Every time I wanted to take a shortcut, like just dropping my clothes in the hall before putting them away, I didn't and I reaped the rewards when i crossed off another thing on the Protaprint pad.</p> <p><img src="http://www.openmusic.ru/articles-respond-other/0050-adam_ant/0050-adam_ant_01.jpg" alt="You don" title="You don"></p> <p>Next on the list - go and visit Grandma. She is still in hospital, with pneaumonia and other infections. Lloyd and I went and Lloyd got a bit freaked out by a sewage lorry in the hospital because he thought old people might be floating inside it. We took Grandma two hamburgers from McDonalds because we know she likes them. We also knew she wouldn't want to eat them and we could have them. We also bought her a couple of mint chocolate bars that she likes. When we got there, she was in a pretty bad state. We had all assumed she'd been getting better, but apparently she has been up and down over the last few days. Fortunately, the doctors weren't concerned, even if Lloyd and I were a bit disturbed by our Gran re-enacting the scene where Anakin Skywalker is transformed into Darth Vader. We didn't stay long because it seemed to be a real struggle for her to speak to us, so we ate the hamburgers, left the chocolate and promised to come back in the next couple of days. To be honest, we could have had the chocolate too and we both regretted leaving it.</p> <p>I got back and looked at the list. I had to prepare my lessons for Monday, which I did, and then sort out all the reply forms for a field trip to Castleton that we're taking a load of kids on this week. I did that too. Now it is almost five o'clock and I have done everything so I might go for a sleep or do something else that involves hot water, before probably going to Subway for dinner. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://witwap.blog.co.uk/2006/09/24/title~1155947/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>