Quite literally, a word. See, there's this new word being spread about. It's falserum. No, I'm not talking about a false alcoholic beverage, I'm talking about Bethan's new word.
It means 'false truth'. As in, saying something you think is true, where in fact it's a lie. I would explain, but I can't think of an example at the moment. Ask Bethan, I'm sure she'll be happy to explain.
As is made clear from the title, the first day of exams is over! Yay! Now there's just the other four, and the day of doing science stuff. How fun.
English was okay, I think. I actually finished the exam in time! That's a first. I'm not sure how well I did on the questions, I'm very sure I failed on the descriptive, and I need to talk to Miss Myhre about my story. She might think I was taking the piss by writing that story — it's a bit odd, see. I need to tell her that it's how I intended it to be.
The last paragraph of the story went:
And so Alex rescued the girl, solved his problem, and M was left to wallow in his own misery. A good ending, don't you think?
That's why I need to see Miss Myhre. Haha, she might think that the whole thing was a joke, where in fact, I tried to make it a bit weird, and slightly funny. I'm not very good at funny though. Woops. Welsh Literature went swimmingly. I did the right thing by learning Englynion Coffa; the question went, "Choose your favourite poem under the theme of war." The other questions then were to write about the language techniques and stuff. Which is good, because Englynion Coffa is full of them. Not only that, but I understand Englynion Coffa better than the other poems. So it all worked out pretty well in the end.
But then came Section B. The novel. That was an epic failure; I'm not very good at the novel questions in the first place, and it didn't help with people doing fucking aerobics next door. "One! Two! Three! Four!" said the teacher woman, whilst clapping her hands and playing loud music. How fucking annoying is that? Surely we can't be expected to do an exam when there are girls screaming in the room next door, and then the teacher's playing music really loudly and clapping and shouting. As soon as I paid attention to it, I lost all concentration. So... section B was an epic fail. Frig.
But never mind, eh? The exam doesn't count for anything, so it's all good.
Ah well, I've got maths to revise this weekend. I hope I do well in maths.... I quite like maths. Hate the teacher though.
That's right, as you all know, the exams are upon us once again. How very depressing. I've got a Welsh Literature exam tomorrow, and I'm not looking forward to it. I can see it being long.
Not only that, but I've only learnt one of the poems. Oops! Ah well, at least it's the one we're most likely to have questions on; it's the Englynion Coffa Hedd Wyn one. I remember it all except the last verse, which I must revise in a minute.
My wrist is hurting though. Because the best way I can learn poems is if I write them out, and with the poems I keep writing it out until it sticks in my mind and until I can say the poem out loud without looking at the poem. Unfortunately, I've been doing that since about half past five, so I've been writing for about four hours. Which is super crippling to the wristy bits.
But never mind, I've got an English exam in the morning, so I'll use the time before it to revise for Welsh a bit more. Clever, eh? I want to learn the last englyn in Hedd Wyn thing, and Er Cof Am Kelly. And then tomorrow I'll learn the table thing Mrs Roberts gave us to revise the poems. There is no way I'm learning Coed off by heart. Fook dat idea. Haha.
Exams I don't mind are Spanish, English, Maths, IT, and Graphics. Ones I'm not looking forward to at all are Welsh and Art. Science ones in January don't look to be very exciting either. Ehh, 'twill be fine.
I'd best be off. Poems to learn, etc.
Happy revision! (Chill time tomorrow night. Woo! Friday nights are awesome.)
Well, I've had an interesting day to say the least. As y'all know, I still apparently can't do gym, so I asked Mr Davies if I could go to the Computer Room instead, to catch up on work. I couldn't find Mr Wicks to ask him if I could go in there, but I thought that since Mr Davies said it's okay, that I was allowed in. So I sat down, logged in, opened my work.
At which point, Mrs Mathias walks in with her troupe of sixth formers. The conversation went a little like this (translated, because I can't be bothered to type in Welsh): "Oi, what're you doing in the corner over there?" "Doing Welsh work." "Why are you in here, then?" "I can't do gym because of my leg, so I came here to do work instead." "Who said you can come here? You do know that you can't come in here without a teacher's permission." "Well I couldn't find Mr Wicks, but Mr Davies said that I can come in here to do work." "Hm. What's your name?" "Scott Jones." "Okay, carry on then."
But she said the last sentence in an evil way, and she kept on giving me evils all through the lesson.
After that was break, where Doc Mog found it necessary to talk to us about chemistry, plastic, and revision. Then I went to Welsh, and we were doing stuff about poems. It was super interesting. Yeah, okay. I gave my Ymsons in though! Yay! And she said "Fab." when I told her that I've finally finished the last one. She read over it and checked the language, and then said that it's good. So that was a good thing.
Then came dinner time, which was interesting. I think it's best that you don't ask. Haha, it's a long story. But art came afterwards, and you all know how much I love art. If you read my previous post, you'll know that we had to give in 5 pages of research on the locality. I didn't do it, because I thought revising to be more constructive than taking a photo of a street sign with a camera I don't have.
I wasn't the only one not to do the homework - only three people in the whole class gave it in. Mr West being Mr West collected people's homework diaries, and gave us all code 4s. I'm not bothered by that, because, well, who cares about code 4s? He gave everyone's homework diaries back to them, apart from three of us. Me, Tad, and Bethan G (in that order because it rhymes). He didn't give ours back because they were, in his words, "messy and in shambles," and it's "unacceptable" so he's taking our diaries to Mr Davies Head-of-Year.
Now this is odd. Because in my report from last year, Mr Webb said that my homework diary has always been, "neat and organised". His words, not mine. Bearing in mind that he's been my reg teacher since year 7, so he's known me for nearly five years, and he's checked my homework diary nearly every week.
Not only that, but my homework diary has only got homework written in it, and a sheet of paper that was given to us by Mr West to help us with the homework. So how it's messy, I don't bloody know. And I'm sure there are plenty of people in our class with messier homework diaries than us. Hmph.
I wouldn't mind so much, if he'd actually given my homework diary back to me after taking it to Mr Davies. But did he? No.
Another thing; the homework diaries are for us to use, read, and write things in, not the teachers. Fair enough, they can write comments and crap, but it's for our use. We are the ones who need to keep track of homework, so what does it matter if it doesn't make sense to a teacher if it makes perfect sense to the person to whom it belongs? Exactly.
Ah well, if I don't get my diary back tomorrow, I'm going to get rather-very-quite angry. Like a butterfly. Rawr.
On a lighter note, I watched Shark Tale on the bus on the way home from school. It was funny, because loads of people didn't like it. Gutting for them then, eh?
Also, Heroes is on tonight. I've seen it, and it's really good. I suggest you watch it tonight.
I bet you're wondering who I'm talking about. Well I'll tell you now, it's Mr West; he's a complete and utter moron. He's given us homework, two pieces in fact, to be in this week.
The first is research. "Bring 5 pages of research on your locality." 5 pages? For crying out loud, I've already done nine last year! It's got to be about your locality, so mine would be Abertridwr. If you've ever been to Abertridwr, you'll know that there's really nothing here other than a few shops, and quite an interesting bus stop. Oh yes, the bus stop is the highlight of Abertridwr.
Honestly though, all the interesting things in Abertridwr and Senghenydd have already been documented in my book. There really is nothing else to do; I can hardly go out and take MORE photos of the same things because a) that'd be pointless and b) I no longer have a camera. It broke.
So that's the first piece. The second piece is more annoying. We had to take in... a box. Not just any box though, it had to have an "interesting design". Essentially, we had to take something like a cereal box, only smaller. He showed us an example last week; a biscuit box, I think, that had holes in it. He said that this box was "particularly interesting," because it "has holes in it." Yes, okay Mr Crazy Person. I was half expecting him to say, "and these flaps are just fascinating!" By the way, the word 'flaps' refers to the flaps on the box, not a part "downstairs", so to speak.
The really annoying thing is that these pieces of homework had to / have to be in this week. Now don't get me wrong, I would usually do my art homework. But not when we've got exams on Friday and all next week. I mean, is he completely crazy? By the time we get home from school, it's essentially dark. So he wants us to go outside, in the dark (they don't put the streetlamps on in Aber anymore, either. My guess is that the council are trying to save money) and in the wet, and in the cold, to take a photo of a bloody roadsign.
I think I'd much prefer to revise for exams. They say that GCSEs are "the most important exams we'll ever sit." Although the exams coming up are not proper GCSEs, they are mocks. And, I believe, some of these mocks will be judging what tier paper we do for the proper GCSEs. So which would you rather do: go out and take photos of roadsigns, or revise for what are apparently the most important exams of our lives? I think I'd prefer revision, thank you very much.
And for that reason, I'm not doing my homework. Fair enough, I might take a box in; it'll only take a quick browse through the cupboard to find a box. But there is no way I'm wasting my time doing art research that was done over a year ago, when there are bloody exams to revise for! So there.
On another note, I have Stephen Fry's Podcasts. Which he calls, Stephen Fry's PODGRAMS. Cool, eh?
Yes, I'm tired. Because, well, because I'm tired. Duh.
I should revise, but I don't really want to. Maybe I'll just learn one of the poems for Welsh. But it's like, all long and stuff. Not to mention MIND-NUMBINGLY BORING. Ffwffan mewn ffyffti ffaffl mewn ffwdan!
Yeah. That was me expressing my annoyance using random Welsh-esque phrases. Woo! Go me.
Erm.. oh! Did I ever tell you people about when I was in Mexico? I don't think I did; I think I went before I started blogging. So I think I might tell you now.
I went to Mexico in May '07 for someone's wedding. I don't like weddings, so that wasn't exactly the highlight of the holiday. Anyway, we went to this nature park thing, and there was all like, animal things. But when we were outside, I was eating a cracker (go me). And there was this iguana, sitting on a rock, looking at my cracker. It looked jealous, so I thought, "Ooh, I know, I'll give the iguana some of my cracker." So I did. Instead of the iguana biting the cracker, it bit my finger. And it was all bleeding and stuff. I called the iguana a bitch. And now I've got a scar on my finger. Fun fun fun!
On the same finger, but on the other hand, I've got a scar where I cut myself. I didn't cut myself intentionally; I was making an apple crumble and when I was cutting the apples, I sort of... slipped. Haha. Ouch.
As few people know, I went to Caerphilly yesterday to buy some games. And buy games, I did! I bought a total of 5 games; I think I got a bit excited. I used the €uros I had left from Belgium to buy the games... but I had to change them first. So I went to the Post Office in WHSmiths, but there was no one at the money-changing place, and the queue for the normal Post Office bit was HUGE. So I though, "Ooh, I know; I'll go to the travel agents that's just down by there."
So I went there, and I asked the woman if I could change my moneys into £pounds please, and she said "Yeah, of course, love." As they do. You know what they're like; a bit odd, slightly crazy, and far too talkative for their own good. With a bit of friendly mixed in. But the woman behind the counter... I dunno why, but she was giving me funny looks. As if I was some sort of bank robber or something. And I am so not the type to rob a bank. For one thing, it involves too much effort. I'd employ someone to do it for me. Oh yes, I've planned these things. =P
After changing my moneys, I went to Gamestation. I had a game or two in mind, so I looked for them first. I found Devil May Cry 4 first, and then I found Crackdown. I saw another game that looked fun as well; Bullet Witch. So I got that as well.
Bullet Witch and Crackdown were part of the 4 for £20 deal, so I was then burdened with the task of finding two other games that were part of the deal. Otherwise I'd have lost out on the chance for two free games. Essentially. Anyway, these other two games seemed non-existent; there was a war game, a football game, a game that was rated 18, so I couldn't get it... another football game. And so on. So I ended up having to get the only other games I could find; Kameo: Elements of Power, and Chrome Hounds. Both of which, are rather fantastically shite.
Bullet Witch is great fun. Pushing vans into people with Willpower; creating Ancient Walls at the last possible moment to take the blast of a missile that's fired at you from a tank; casting a spell on your Gunrod to make the bullets make your enemies catch fire; calling down HUGE bolts of lightning from the sky to blow up petrol stations; throwing a rose at enemies that makes spears come up from the ground and impale the enemies; calling a load of Ravens to attack a group of enemies, giving you a chance to escape. It's quite fun, as you can imagine. And the best bit? You never run out of ammo! Because you get your ammo from the 'dead souls of your enemies', it just takes a tiny bit of your magic when you reload. And that magic will quickly regenerate, so it's all good. ;)
But what I really wanted to talk about, was Devil May Cry 4 (henceforth, DMC4). You play as Nero, a guy who really doesn't like demons. But he's got a Demon Arm. Which he uses to great effect; throwing enemies around and slamming them into the ground has never been so much fun! And then there's his super awesome sword. You can charge the sword, using its "fuel injection system" which "gives the next attack more force and speed than ordinary attacks." That's really fun. Especially after you've defeated the first boss — your sword then sets things on fire when you use the fuel injection thingy. Fun.
I like the puzzles too. Though I haven't come across many, and they haven't been very difficult, I've played the other games in the series; so I know what's to come. ;) So DMC4 and Bullet Witch are the best ones I've bought. They're super cool, super awesome, and killing things is fun.
Now if you'll excuse me, Merlin's on soon, and I haven't eaten all day. So I'm getting something to eat, and then watching Merlin. I suggest you do the same. =]
Also, I've never thanked you people (yes, I'm talking to you). So erm... thanks for reading! Honestly, if no one reads, I don't blog. I've got another two blogs that are private, but I don't write to them because no one can read them. So I stick to this one. ;) Thank you all!xx
This is in no way similar to Ryan's latest post. Just so you know.
Beginnings. They happen. As do endings. And just when you think it's all over, it starts all over again.
Now, this can be a good thing or a bad thing. More often than not, it's a BAD thing. But who am I to complain? The answer: I'm the one with the blog, dammit! So 'ave tha'! Sorry.
Anyway, your timeline may go something like this:
Beginning —— End —— Another beginning, same as the previous one ——End —— and so on.
Good or bad? I don't know; I'm not that familiar with your lives, but what I can say, is this; be warned. Things come back. Like ghosts. Or vampires. Or dead people, if you don't kill them properly. Remember; zombies die with a shot to the head! Destroy the brain!
I wish you all a happy survival, and I leave you with this quite familiar quote: "I want to play a game..."
Just like that song doesn't go, I'm wondering where "all the entertaining things have gone..." And so on. I'm really bored, see.
I've been on YouTube. I've been on Answers. I've been on Bebo and Facebook. But I'm still bored. Mleeh. And I can't reach my headphones; they're like, a meter away. =(
Ah well. Maybe I'll go kidnap someone's fridge. =)
No, not you lot — my teachers. They're all trying to get me to take their subjects for A-Level. But I don't wanna!
See, it all started about a week or two ago, when Mr Webb (as I've said before, he's less commonly known as Mr Whebb - with emphasis on the 'h') addressed the whole class and told us that Physics is a good subject to take. Why's it a good subject to take? Because APPARENTLY, there are loads of jobs where you need a degree (or whatever) in Physics. Such as... being a physicist. Or maybe someone who fits prosthetic limbs. I don't know of anyone who would want to fit prosthetic limbs or a living, but you know. People are free to do what they please. Within reason.
Back to the story; on Tuesday I hung back in Welsh to ask about my coursework — I wanted to know if it was okay for me to do my fourth ymson in the way I wanted to. Never mind. Anyway, she asked if I'm considering doing A-Level Welsh. I said that I didn't know. And then she asked what I'm taking for A-Level; I said that I didn't know. And then she said that I should consider taking Welsh because it's a useful subject to have, and that I'd enjoy it. Uh-huh..
A couple of days before that, Miss Myhre said that I should consider doing journalism. Which... I don't think I'd enjoy. Haha. But I think she asked if I wanted to do A-Level in English, as well.
And today, Mrs Richardson (football head) said that I'm good at writing, and that I should consider doing Spanish A-Level. Because, and I quote, "It's always good to have a language, and I think you'd enjoy it." Yeah... okay...
So... yeah. It's pretty annoying. Haha. The only thing I think I want to do for A-Level is Maths. But that's a maybe. For now.
Also, I've got a headache — I've had it all day, and it won't go away. If it doesn't go away sometime soon, I'll have to threaten it with a screwdriver. And if that doesn't work, I'll set into motion my ingenious plan to take over the world! Mwahahahaha. But that doesn't necessarily mean that my headache will go away. Poop.
"Dont worry Hermione, I'll get rid of it; CHLAMYDIA DISSAPPEARO!"
Time for a video or two, me thinks!
But before that, I need to talk to y'all about this randomer who added me on MSN. He was telling me about conspiracies. Now, I'm fairly open-minded - but when someone tries to tell me that the government is run by aliens, I think that's taking it a bit far. Not only that, but the only evidence he had was a video on YouTube. What a noob.
Okay, now it's time for the videos.
And then there's the infamous Achmed the Dead Terrorist. Because he's cool.
Never mind the title; I couldn't think of anything. Anyway, it's been like, a few days since I last blogged. I know, it's shocking. But I have returned. So all's good.
Since the last post, I've been to Belgium. It was fun. Well, it had its shitty parts - but doesn't every trip? Let's start with the bus. I don't know who these buses are meant for, but it's definitely not humans. Not grown humans, anyway. See, it's as if they've built the seat big enough to accommodate you, only an inch too small on all sides. So for the whole trip, I had the metal footrest of the seat in front stuck in my knees. There was no where to put my arm because I was sat where there's a column in the window. The seats were VERY uncomfortable, and there was barely enough room under the seat for my bag. See, the overhead storage was only meant for the baggage of the mystical little people the bus was built for. Not human luggage.
I tried to get some sleep on the bus. I didn't get much of it; there was no room to lean back, nor to lean forward. And for the most part of the trip, our seats wouldn't recline. After a while, I got annoyed and angrily tugged on the lever. After that, my seat reclined. Woo! (It didn't matter for Cerys and Myf who were sat behind me and Dan because they were sat by the Fire Exit, so they had loads of room. Lucky buggers. =P)
When I woke up, my hair was stuck to the velcro on the seat in front. I was like, "Wtf?!"
Ferry was fun. Room to walk, quiet to talk, and a nice games arcade to play Time Crisis II. Ahhhh....
But then we were back on the bus. Fun. It took us to Hill 62, which is one of the trenches from the war. I walked through it with my wellies on. Yes, I'm that cool.
Now, in the trench, it was like walking through one huge puddle. You can't see where the floor dips or anything. My luck being my luck, there were pot-hole type things in the trench. And my luck being my luck, my foot went straight into it. But oh no, not just the one, but another. And another. Totaling three holes my foot went down. Which left my jeans in a rather muddy state.
Following that, we went to the graveyard. That was the depressing bit. The teachers told us to notice the age of the soldiers written on the headstones. 19, 21, 18, 24, 32. 18year-olds died in WWI. That's a mere three years older than me; and only two years older than some of you. He was just a kid.
And then there's the 32 year old guy. He probably had a family; Wife, kids. Pets, even.
The worst of all were the 'unidentified' graves. All it said on them was,
"A SOLDIER OF THE GREAT WAR
KNOWN UNTO GOD"
Can you imagine how much grief the families must have felt? Not even knowing where their children, husbands, fathers, were buried. That's if they were buried at all; they couldn't find the bodies of some of the people. Which is even worse.
After Iwan and Josh finished reading Englynion Coffa Hedd Wyn at Hedd's grave, a little cross with a poppy on it was placed onto it. After that, we were free to walk around the graveyard and look at the people's graves. I counted in one row; there were 50 graves to a row. About 20 of them were unidentified. If they were lucky, they knew what 'uniform regiment' they were in.
I know it's depressing, but I needed to blog about it. It's just one of those things. Not being one to leave you on a rather depressing note, I think I'll tell you about the chocolate shop. We went to the town in the morning to get breakfast. I think the town was called Ypres (pronounced "Eeps", apparently), and it was FULL of chocolate shops. We passed the one, and it had a special deal on because our school goes there every year. The woman said "You are Cwm Rhymni?" After some people said yes, she beckoned them inside. When I passed, she asked "You are Cwm Rhymni also?" I confirmed. She then said, "Come, come inside. We sell you chocolate." At which point, I ran away. Literally ran. You know on Chitty Chitty Bang Bang? There's a guy with a candy cart and he steals children? I felt like she was the candy man, and that she was trying to kidnap me.
But I went back later on though. I wanted chocolate (who doesn't?). The guy there was cool. He referred to us as "the Welsh ones." Probably couldn't pronounce our school's name. =P Anyway, he said "You get de milk-a bar, you get de box of chocolates, and you get two gifts from de wall." He continued, "If you get two deal, you get tree gifts from de wall." (It's written in his accent. It's not me making spelling mistakes, I swear!
So I bought chocolate. And then I bought ice cream. It was big, and it was chocolatey. Mmm... In all, 'twas a good trip. =]
I have some pictures that I might upload later if I can be bothered.
Last Friday, I didn't do my maths paper one. I told Miss Tomos that I'll give it in to her on Monday, when I give paper two in to her. I told her I forgot paper one, you see. I said that it wasn't in my file, when I was sure I put it in there.
Anyway, on Monday I had to go see Mr Gravell. I didn't know why; all I knew was that I was supposed to go to his office at lunch time. So I did. And it was about maths; even though I'd told her that I was going to give it to her on Monday, she gave my name to Mr Gravell and I had to go see him. Obviously, he didn't say much. Because I'd actually done the work, so there was nothing really he could say, was there?
So after dinner, I had Maths. I gave her my paper one, and my paper two. What did she say then? She said, "Oh Scott, I thought you'd give your maths paper in." She said it in a mocking way, as if referring to my little meeting with Mr Gravell. I replied; "Yes, after I said on Friday that I'd give them in today." At which point, she exhaled through her nostrils. In that way she does it, that makes her look like a hippo. Yup.
What a rem.
On a slightly different note, Iwan, Thomas and I have come to a conclusion; Miss Tomos is either a) a Lesbian or b) a transexual. Who still has her jiggly bits downstairs.
Yeah. The things that come to light in maths, eh?
Oh yeah! There are some cheeky slags on my bus. There's this one girl who pushed past everyone yesterday when we were in the bus shelter thing. She said "Move." Now to me, that's really rude. I replied; "There are two to three words that can be used for what you want. There's 'excuse' and 'me'. With the optional 'please'. " Oh did I get an evil look. Ah well. They should learn some manners! And whilst they're there, a larger vocabulary. Outside of the words, "fuck", "shit", "twat" or "bastard". Oh, and we mustn't forget "cunt"!
Another person who has once again made me laugh at them is Mark Thoirs. Remember him? He was in one of my first ever blog posts. Anyway, earlier today he pushed passed us. Saying, with his unique range of vocabulary, "Move." Once again, I replied; "I can hardly move into a metal bench, can I?" He tried to push past then. Or more specifically, he tried to push passed me. Have you tried to push passed me? I'm not an easy one to move. So he had no luck there. Ha.
After that, when he finally got to his so-called friends, he said "I'm gonna 'it 'im one day." At which point, I said to my friends, "Yes, 'one day' being the operative part of that sentence. 'One day' in his non-existent future. Non-existent because he's going to die on Saturday." "How's he going to die?" I was asked. I replied; "He's going to be run over by a bus. There's this guy... and he owes me a favour..." Fun fun fun.
So.... that's it for now. I've got to go do food. Bye!
P.S. Belg tomorrow! Yay! Fun fun fun fun fun fun!! =]
As the title plainly states, this is my 50th post! Woo! Celebrate... somehow.... with cake?
I've got nothing special to blog about, so I'll tell you about my weekend. Today I went to Caerphilly with my dad to get him something for his birthday. I got him a rod-rest; he goes fishing a lot see. After that, I went to see my nan. And then I went home with my dad, and went to see my other nan. Who doesn't live that far away. And then I came home and watched Fracture. Which is a great movie.
If you've read my Bebo profile, you'll know that I'm a fan of Dan Brown's books. (For those of you who don't know who he is, he's the dude who wrote The Da Vinci Code.)
I've always preferred Angels and Demons to Da Vinci Code. It's way better. Da Vinci Code was good, but it was a bit too talky; not really enough stuff going on. But A&D is way more action-packed. And there's some interesting science shizzle in it. Not much, just a little bit.
Anyway, they've made it into a movie! I saw a trailer on Yahoo!, so I was super happy. It's like, one of my favourite books. But then again, they ripped Da Vinci Code to shreds.... Poop. Ah well, Da Vinci Code wasn't really the best book to turn into a movie; Angels and Demons is. It's more action-y. Wicked.
Trailer? Oui.
Woo! Also, I know it's a bit late now seeing as the election's over and all... but... Isn't Sara Palin just THE weirdest person you've ever seen? She thought Africa was a country. Ha.
I've got three subjects' work to do for tomorrow; Spanish, Graphics and Maths.
I thought I'd start with the easiest one, which is Maths. Instead of flying through it, it just took forever. So I can't be fucking arsed with it anymore, so I threw my maths paper across the room. Much better. The questions are fucking retarded though. There was one, and it said "Ann bought a washing machine from one of these two shops. Shop-1 is selling the washing machine for £338 + VAT, at 17.5%. Shop-2 is selling the washing machine for £408.
Ann bought the washing machine from the cheapest shop. Which shop did she buy it from?"
For fuck's sake! Why even bother with that question?! Just fucking ask her what shop she bought it from, and ask her how much she saved. Idiots.
And then there's Spanish. "Write about your work experience." No. Why the hell do I want to write in Spanish? I've already written about work experience on my other blog. If she wants it in Spanish that much, she can translate it. Hmph.
Which leads us to Graphics. I absolutely fucking HATE the subject. I honestly don't know why I took it in the first place. He can burn my file for all I care. Graphics = Pointless.
Ahhhhhhh. That's better. Sorry for all the swearing; I'm super pissed off at the moment. And not just about school stuff; there's other stuff making me want to kill someone. Fireworks, for example. And some other things, which I don't really want to talk about.
Anyway, to the point. I've started blogging about my work experience if you're interested in reading it. So far, I've only blogged about the Monday. I had a busy week. I'm hoping to be able to write about the Tuesday and the Wednesday on the weekend. I can't do it in the week; it takes too long to write! There's just so much to write about...
If you're interested, click here to read it, or you can click the link on the sidebar.
In my last normal post, I said that I would watch Sanctuary and then say whether or not it's better than Fringe. I forgot to say. Woops.
But I've come to a conclusion - Fringe is better. The idea behind Sanctuary is okay, but I can't stand listening to Amanda Tapping's retarded English accent. It drives me around the twist.
And there were people on there called Folders. They could, literally, fold themselves. Quite strange. And they were addicted to a drug that comes from Gold. Huh.
So my conclusion; Fringe is better. =]
Also, I've started blogging about my work experience. So far, I've only written about Monday. I had a lot to write, so I stuck it on another blog. Click here to read about it.
Oh, and I can't be bothered with Quote(s) of the day anymore. Maybe some other time.
Sorry, but it's politics again...
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Ok, I'm bored, so I thought it would be quite nice to start blogging again.
Well, nice isn't the word. The word is
"Slightly-less-boring-than-sitting-aroun...
What have I done!?
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Why is it that as soon as you have something good comeing into your life or
already in your life it fucks up? Like seriouly c'mon. What the fuck have I
don...
Snow.
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So another day and another blog. I apologise for not blogging in a while.
But I didn't feel like it. But now I'm back to my usual ranting self
SOo it's sn...
Eh.
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Aaah, what a jolly blog that last one was. Must have been having one of
them emu days. I can't say how much i hate school at the moment. So much
about it i...
Hello!
It's about time I updated this thing. There's not much about me that you need to know, really. I'm seventeen, but I act like a child. I can't help it, it just happens.
Rules of life:
Fun = good
Not fun = bad
Happy = good
Unhappy = bad
Simples! Even a meerkat could do it. :)
