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Heres a short note to say: We fucking hate you.
With your heels that click on the wooden floor boards everytime you take a step, your big fat asses that cause the floor underneath you to creak as if theres a whale wearing heels rather than a human being, the lady with her mullet hairstyle that she seems to think is “in”, the leader of the pack who thinks that her perm is fooling anyone into believing shes younger than 60.
To all you hags that somehow werent tortured enough during your years of schooling and thought it best to route your life to annoy the fuck out of silent exam students, perhaps your life would be less miserable if you bought a dog? A beach house? Perhaps drowned yourselves in the ocean?
1 exam down and so many to go, thank you fucking stars that we dont live in America, because if Kmart sold guns over the counter here, I’d buy the entire store – a separate gun for each of you – I’d even give you 10 minutes of “running” time.
PS. I changed the title in case this seems like a serious threat. Again, we arent in America, I tend to keep homicidal thoughts to myself.
Who isn’t a fan on insanely blunt and slightly cynical gods? You dont? Well you’re just a tosser and not even your own mum likes you. Now that I’ve gotten that out of the way, is Dylan Moran not the god of greatness and everything in between?
I am, as of now, taking to sticking post it notes on my forehead, or better yet, giving the oh so great middle finger response (very often), because some people just dont get it, or anything for that matter.
Hypothetically, if you were a bald business man (of whom wears glasses and a retarded tie) – could you rename yourself “Dilbert”? Sadly, I probably could.
It is more than often that our achievements and efforts are cut down or thrown in our faces – and the last glimmer or hope is scratched out of our not-so-willing minds. Sure others can judge “so and so never takes anything seriously” or “so and so are so negative” but do they ever ask themselves.. am I the one doing over 3 hours of work almost every night?
How hard could it possibly be to say – “you did good” – Three words?
Yet we are constantly reminded of our downfalls, mistakes and flaws rather than achievements, qualities and perfections? Would it be more rewarding to compliment instead of snigger behind someones back? More positive to see a smile instead of a frown? And surely, more productive to teach instead of hinder?
It is a pathetic world we live in when the vision of hope is unreachable, whilst false hope is merely around the corner.
Blatant sarcasm… were it possible to literally drip with it, I probably could. It may be the lowest form of wit but to be honest – I really just don’t give a flying fuck.
Dear biology teacher,
Thankyou sooooo much for taking the time to write a letter filled with my inconsistencies. Also the section that noted it would be appropriate for my parents to discuss the matter with me was really appreciated – I have really turned over a new leaf based on what your wonderful and not sterile and non personal at all letter (or form.) Thankyou from the bottom of my heart; for saving my schooling career and marks due to your thoughtful form which was sent directly to my parents and also suggested I should be doing more (glorious) school work not only in school, but also out of school.
I do so hope that the appreciation of my improvement, if made, is placed solely on the form you took the time to fill in (a whole 20 or so lines.)
Further more, Thankyou to my mother. Whom felt it necessary to repeat the mark I received several times – somehow believing that after 16 years of life i simultaneously became not only blind, but also deaf. Another Thankyou for reminding me “had [my] father been reading this he would be furious” (thankyou for the emphasis on furious as well – although I am not brain dead or a moron.) I was aware of this point, however I fail to care as my father was not reading the form – nor was he in the same country at the time. Thankyou oh so freaking much for yet again making my life a pleasure to live, and continuously reminding me of the ample time consuming and life eating assignments I have to do.
Oh my, how I enjoy to be walked on.
So having been subtly told to move in Biology – I moved a whole row forward with another group of girls. Having no opportunity to talk, wear reading glasses and ask if i look nerdy, pull ugly faces and giggle and laugh non stop – I resorted to listening. No, before you think you know how this ends, I did not find myself in love with Bio for the first time in years – nor did i actually learn something. Rather I became aware of this annoying, just plain want to stab their eyes out annoying, habit my teacher seemingly just cannot stop.
Alright.
That’s it. Alright – Every 0.5 seconds [and no I'm seriously not joking.] Alright? Alright! Alrighttt…
You get the idea? So in one lesson - I did a tally. Ok VS. Alright.
The results? In one 50 minute – estimated 30 (becuase I started after the lesson began), my teacher said Ok 38 times; and Alright an amazing (gold star effort) 86 times.
Now, this is where I draw the line… Why continuously ask if it’s “alright?” – Next time I swear to god I am going to grab my pencil and stab her eyes out – or the more likely just scribble some obscene notes in my book – then giggle to myself.
NO. It is NOT ok. And it is NOT alright. Fuuuuuuuuuuck. And my day couldn’t get any worse? Wrong again. My hair has been cut into some boy cut and my brother is now calling me “little bro.” So bite me if I don’t feel like playing anyones little games today, or tomorrow.
I’m sure everyone who actually reads this blog – or even scans the titles – would know what I think about exams. Bullshit springs to mind.
I studied my holidays away just to scrape in a good mark for maths (which I achieved – 78.5% which went up to 79%) – yet failed to study other lengthy subjects such as Biology (and Modern History which I haven’t gotten back yet) and ended up apparently only touching the surface of these subjects.
I got 26/69 for Bio – which I’m not exactly proud of – but I am pretty sure that I can’t go back in my brand new time machine and study a whole lot more and memorise homeostasis. Yet my teacher feels it necessary to go and ask all of my teachers how I am doing in my other subjects – Average she says (like i need reminding.)
All through today I just kept being reminded how “average” I have been going. I touched a few pages in English whilst my teacher was talking to the class in general – resulting in her leaping into an in depth attack of how I “could be better, not everyone… YOU… not the class… YOU could be better and RIGHT now… you are just extremely average”- Yes whilst I am not naturally smart the 48.5/65 that I added up is really quite ok with me but thanks for caring right?
In terms of Biology – I have been left to “think about it” – not the “its your decision” type of thinking – more like the “if you don’t do it I will” – and so I will be sitting by myself in yet another class (including maths where i was separated ENTIRELY from my friend who was moved into another class room.)
It wouldn’t be the first time that i have been separated – let alone got the “Sarah could I talk to you after class please.” The fact is – to me what my idea of an “average” mark means not the average of the entire class, but what I see as acceptable. – Since when did “average” equate to nothing? Correct me if I’m wrong – but average is what is usually aimed for – above average is what people hope for.
If teachers must get to picky there should be a whole set of averages – shitty average – you suck average – we think you are really a dumb ass but cant kick you out of the class average – ok average – at least you tried average – yeah it’s a good average… but that girl did better – just give up average – you’re getting there average – keep trying average [the list could be endless.]
Face it – if above average was so fucking easy to get – then it wouldn’t be above average would it?
Ok so instead of being at home doing something productive with my time (like watching DVDs) – I am at school in a study period. Which is pretty freaking annoying because I could be at home butmy mum couldn’t pick me up and apparently my brother has something better to do (probably buying another manly cardi gagggg.) The point is – I’m pissed off – and in the mood to ramble.
Today was the first day back in real classes after 2 weeks holidays, 3 weeks of exams (only 2 for me as mine were all together [fuckkkk]) and 3 days of retreat (which i didn’t like very much if you read my last post.)
It began with double biology – in which my eyes were almost burning out of my head trying to listen to some old ass man who used to be some kind of genius talk (Watson – discovering the structure of DNA) – however he seemed to be able to mumble and grin to the extent of a creepy pedophile – so I wasted time by taking some crappy notes. Then we got our exam marks back (I didn’t study for this exam very much – i sort of opened my book – wrote some notes – then stared at the paper) – evident in my marks (which my mother will probably murder me over… or just crush my spirits and leave the killing to my dad) I ended up with 26/69.
English – funny as always – with my teacher threatening to stab someone with her biro… I did pretty good in the sections we got back – but haven’t gotten all back yet – so that pisses me off… had all this time to mark yet some idiot locks her marked section in her office and is conveniently “sick.”
Then maths (the one subject i absolutely studied my ASS off for – meaning barely going out during my holidays and constant stress) – I stood at my friends [Mal, Jesi and Sheridan's] window talking until my teacher came and then she walked into their room to talk to their teacher. I go “DID I DO GOOOOOD???” and she said she didn’t know but she was grinning… turns out i got 78.5% which is probably the first maths mark over 50% I have received for a bit over a year. If my parents aren’t happy about that I will not hesitate to take a knife and… OR take up some kind of ancient Japanese fighting skills (not requiring body armour) and torture them like they have me with the stress and study.
Then Religion – which i got back [it weighed 0%] and couldn’t be bothered putting what little energy I had into working out what mark I had got – and I was le tired so I slept during a video on Islam (Which i have to write a report on tonight – ahhh shittt.)
Tomorrow I have Modern History – Another exam i probably screwed – having made most of the shit up on the spot and then watching some girl next to me tear off her 100 pages [not really - about 6 per essay] whilst i had only around 8 pages in front of me in total and the exam booklet. As well as DT which is fairly crappy because my mum is a DT teacher and I almost always (no I’m not self involved – its just true) get the highest mark – which is not all that great because then I get “oh it’s because her mumsssss a teacher and she does the work forrrr her” or ”what did SARAH get? Ohhh I beat you by half a mark!!!” (the second one hasn’t happened but im waiting for it.) Then if i fail (not average fail – mother fail – which means getting less than 60% is not good enough) I will have a nice lecture waiting for me at home.
Screwwwwwww school. Its 3.00 and I have wasted enough time – by the way – what the fuck is the deal with leaches??? Not literal leaches – the leach kind of person that sucks on to a person and then drains all the fun and life and then moves on to the next person – disgusting.
Hooray! Exams are finally over for me – So no school today and i slept til almost 11 and have been bumming around with a HUGE smile on my face – and yes caps lock was needed – it emphasised the pleasure.) As I am in the best of moods today you wont find a hate filled rant aimed towards losers, Americans, selfish self-involved anal retentive bastards, or all of the above (selfish self-involved anal retentive bastards and losers we all know as Americans) although the amount of insults in that on sentence has refreshed my mind a fair bit…
But instead a link – try it youself if you wish – according to the “Gender Genie” I found on Red Jenny’s blog, a majority of my posts conclude, in some mathamatical logic, that I am, in fact, a male.
How does one define a persons gender based on a blog? The Gender Genie bases your sex on how many “feminine” and “masculine” words you use in a blog. You just submit your blog and before you know it - you’re classified as male.
The result of a few of my blogs:
This Boy – Female
1,8000 words and 43 photos of fame – Male
Humans for Sale – Male
Scum – Female
“Get a Job” – They said – Female
So from what I gather, without doing every single post I have written, the Gender Genie sees every intelligent, well planned and logical post I write will be analysed to have been written by a male. Whilst every emotionally intact, thoughtful and slightly angry and bitter post I write will be analysed as written by a female.
Why is this? Is a male viewed as more intelligent? From my experience, it is almost a certain no. The Gender Genie seems to think I am somewhere in between, I must be that new breed of feminine male which i class as fe-man (a word i made up on the spot if you cant tell..) but are classically known as “Metro.”
The Gender Genie is in fact gender confused, as i am a certified (Birth certificate) Female.
Ironically enough – this post was considered male.
The absolute wonder of Myspace: Whilst scanning random Myspaces (instead of doing copious amounts of unappealing work and study) it occurred to me – a majority of them are the same, yet disguised by a layout or numerous HTML codes.
In a way I am ashamed that I ever let myself get sucked into this ideal of “friendship on the internet”, yet I still find myself on myspace on a daily basis. I’m not going to lie; I rely on myspace a lot of the time. Yet as I scan these pages, for lack of something better to do, I find myself disgusted with who these people become just to “fit in”, and thank my dignity, pride and self respect that I am not at this stage (and never plan to be).
a) Firstly, the addition of “ers” or “s” onto random words, making them not actually words – does not make you cool, but rather illiterate. Stop it. Example 1:
I DON’T LIKE
- Fat Ass And Light Pole
- Hipocrits
- Two Facers
- Talk It Up’s
- Better Then Everyone Elsers
- Shit Don’t Stinkers
- Laughing Drunks
(note that the word hypocrites was actually spelt “hipocrits”… a laughing matter in itself.)
b) Then there is the range of people who think talking in third person is an invention of their own – you are not the only person on myspace who talks in third person – its more like your one in 4/5, and honestly, reading it doesn’t impress me nor your “friends”, however it does give me the urge to slap some sense into your moronic mind.Example 2:
She is 16 year’s of age
She loves to wear tight straight legged jeans
She has black hair
She has very ice coloured blue eyes
Music is her life
Note to 16 year old female, you may as well write “she is just like everyone else, and she is proud” fuck you and stop bolding your words – we get the point, you’re just like every other girl that is too young to sell herself in reality.
c) Noticeably, there are many amateur photographers out there. Somewhat disappointingly – Campbelltown seems to breed shittiness in terms of what these “myspacers” view as photography:
Endless photos of feet, in circles, in pairs, of people holding hands, of hands making love hearts, of shadows, of grass, fences, trees, sunrises and sunsets at some “artistic” camera angle.
How any of it is passed off as Art is beyond me – it falls just short of my disgust of the well known “top 8” and how your “friends” will be moved every 10 seconds. A fake reality that many seem pleased with.
d) And finally, in relation to the many photographs you try to pawn off as artistic, is the number of people who pose and sell how “unique” they are, perhaps attempting to gain more friends in highlighting “individuality”. The sad thing is these photos are merely to promote their new hair, clothes, or some four letter word that conveniently fits across their knuckles. And more pathetically, there seems to be some belief that writing “fuck”, “rawr” or “cunt” across ones knuckles makes you hardcore or “in.” I look at these and think, honestly, what kind of fuckwit stands on a bath, and wastes their time, taking photo after photo of a friend, for the sole purpose of myspace. And on top of that, what kind of person takes these photos, edits every flaw out, then posts it on myspace, just to sell themselves and beg for strangers to comment?
A lengthy post, yet it still only covers ¼ of the reasons why I despise myspace – In general, the fact that some “myspacers” would sell themselves for little to nothing, all over the internet, does not say alot for “our generation.”
“Your too imature… grow up”
Let me ask you this; who wants to grow up, when growing up means changing, then all you can do to remember who you used to be (free of corruption, being “in” and being “liked”) is look at a few photographs. Does it make you feel “big” or more mature when your so picky about everything? Imagine if you had been so routine and so “perfect” when you were 5.
Do you ever remember a time where you classed your friends based on who was “cooler” – or instead how much fun you had with them?
Or when you picked your favourite dress that you wore a billion times over – not because it was “in” – but because the colours reminded you of a butterfly.
Did it occur to YOU – that whilst your telling people their to immature for YOU – you only make it clear to them that your too uptight for THEM. That you only illustrate once and for all that you just arent what they are looking for in a friend.
If you want the people who think they are better than everyone, the people who spend their time pointing out your faults and the people who class themselves – believing and pushing until they are “in” regardless of losing those closest to them.
That is your choice.
I’d rather the people who understand i like to be rough – its my nature – its a sign of caring. The people who will bite back – literally and metaphorically. The people who would do ANYTHING in the world to make me smile. But most of all the people who forgive me – for anything – those mutual apologies mean more than anything in the entire world to me.
So honestly, who the fuck wants to grow up?
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