Thursday, 29 September 2011

How to be popular, without the popular

'Popular people' are the type of people who think they are popular, they're not but we let them think that because they're brains wouldn't cope with anything else. I have one or two other names for this group, however this blog is family friendly.

To qualify for this group you need loads of makeup and very little skirt. You also need to get drunk every friday night (classy) and you have to have an IQ of about -10000000.

Anyway, once you have qualified for the group your going to need a nickname. I could come up with one... No, as I said, this is a family friendly blog. You are also going to need an expensive bag that you stole the money for and if anyone else has this bag you must give them as many dirty looks as you can. You also need some dodgey hair extensions and cheap shoes and your good to go.

Now you look 'popular' you need to act it. Note, I said act because you're not really like this, you're just putting on a show. You need to be arrogant, pushy and a huge show off. Easy enough? Brillant! Your going to be a wonderful 'popular' person. So off you trot to the subway where you can smoke and drink to your hearts content.

Oh! I almost forgot! Make sure you call revising stupid and fail all your gcse's that will get you off to a great start in your career in a fast food restraunt. Alternativly, you could just watch daytime tv all day, after all you have so many 'issues'.

If you don't 'get' this blog I am pleased to inform you that you are already a 'popular' person and don't need to worry your ugly little head about it.

Monday, 26 September 2011

Wardrobe doors and me.

Me and wardrobe doors do not get on. Actualy, no, I make an effort to be friends they just don't like me. The thing is they always have to be awkward. For example, if it is two in the morning and I have accidently forgotten to do my homework and I need my book out of my wardrobe they are always closed. So, when I open them I make such a noise I wake everyone up (I'm not actualy that bothered about that, it's more that I fet found out for not doing my homework). They often make it twice as awkward my getting something stuck behind themseleves so they won't open without a lot of fuss.

However, if it has been a long day and I have just climbed into tp my lovely warm bed, they are open, as wide as a black whole. So I have to drag myself out of bed to close them, and believe me they don't close without a fuss. I think they know that I can't sleep with them open so as soon as they see me getting into bed theh turn into ninjas and open.

So there you are, wardrobe doors hate me, and that is the end of this very interesting blog.

P.s Dear wardrobe doors,
I never liked you anyway.

Wednesday, 21 September 2011

Pointless sports and a bit of a ramble....

I am finally happy with the layout of my blog! I am now very tired and want to go to bed but to show my dedication to this blog I am going to stay awake.

Today I had maths, please refer to my blog about maths to understand the length of my hatred to this subject. I also had PE and we did volley ball, what a load of rubish. Basicaly 'vollying' is what you do when your playing netball and you can't catch the ball and you end up awkwardly flapping your arm about until you smack the ball and make your hand sore. Vollying is in no way an actual technical term and it's not even a skill, you just smack the ball. The other rule I don't understand is about passing it around to your team-mates on your own side of the net it's not natrual. They spend all year last year in tennis explaining we could not hit the ball to our own doubles partner (how was I supposed to know?) and we had to hit it over the net. Now they are just going back on themsleves. Well that's teachers for you.

Another pointless sports include:

-Rugby- it is too stopy and starty, plus it's violent and all the men need a nose job when they retire.
-Swimming- *yawns*
-Football- overpaid men kicking a ball around a feild. Simple as. When you play it in PE it's underpaid slaves pretending to kick a ball around the feild.
-Archery- ...there is boredom and then there is Archery... Zzzzz
-Gymnastics- I am sure that goes against all health and safety laws over written.
-Netball- it's a sport, which implys you have to run, but your not aloud to run *bangs head on desk*

And many many more (believe me I have loads)But, on the positive side I do like hockey it gives you an exuse to hit people that you don't like with a big stick. Perfect.

p.s I am not trying to offend any one who plays any of these sports, how you waste your time is no concern of mine.

Tuesday, 20 September 2011


I am sorry my blog is having a bit of an identity crisis looks wise at the moment! I tried to change it but i ran out of time! I will sort it out as soon as i can. I hope it doesn't distract you from my rants ;)

Well this is very exiting

Hopefully, this blog will have been sent here by email! Isn't that clever. Technolgy really does amaze me sometimes, imagine that, I can blog from school, from my ipod, anywhere really. Wow. Mind=blown better make some effort to say something interesting in this blog so... I am currently working on my english cousework called why i hate cash in the; when i have done and it has been sent off i will put it on here. If i put it on now i will get accused of copying- off myself. Stupid rules. I hate rules, but that my friend is another blog. So goodbye from this very tech wiz blog. (i do appologise for the spelling errors, as my email has no spell check and for the lack of captital i's, Apple are capable of creating such amazing technology but not making an auto capital thingy. We live in a damaged world my friends

Wednesday, 7 September 2011

The year 7 that almost didn't live.

Today our new year 7s joined our form. At first they look cute and sweet. Think again. Today I had a a run in with a year 7 that nearly cost him both legs.

Basically, we thought he hadn't turned up to form so I was sent (I did NOT volunteer) to go and look for him. I trecked round and round the school searching every nook and cranny for what I thought was an innocent little boy. It was raining and I was wet through, but I was determined to find him. As form time drew to a close I retreated to my classroom, saddened with failure. As I walk into the room, the 'inocent' year 7 is sitting in the classroom reading him 'welcome to high school' leaflet.

I was furious, apparently he didn't answer his name because he didn't know what to say. I was livid, if he wasn't a year 7 he would have lost him head, legs and both arms.

Anyway, it's safe to say I was not best pleased with this little boy and I shall never, ever, 'help' a year 7 again.