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Gahhh, SMASH!

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posted on Feb, 8 2006 @ 05:38 PM
My new term will be the big sucking of arse...
I'm in grade ten (First year baby :up
so, this semester I'm in Bio 11, Canadian History 11, Art, and of course, French...Ooohhh, French..You bastard..
Anyways...Art, it's not so bad. However, I don't really know anyone in my art class, and the people I know just barely are sitting in large unwelcoming groups. So, I try to sit by myself for the past two days.
Next is Biology...Every jock in grade eleven is currently in that class. I pray that the side of the building will be ripped out and thrown across the land by some divine force moments before I get into class some day...Though I doubt it will ever happen..Here's hoping though.
BUT WAIT! What on earth would we do without our football team who's lost nearly EVERY GAME THEY'VE HAD THIS SEASON!?!? Ohh, I'm sure we'd manage just fine.
Annnd, after that, it's French. French isn't so bad, it's even taught by a funny little man with a silly voice, who's always happy and is a brother-in-law to my aunt. However, I am teh suk in French, and have my girlfriend in the class. Generally, not so bad. But I'm forbidden to speak English. And I can only imagine how awkward that class will be when her and I fight...Also, It's been two days since this term started, and the French teacher has held me back at the end of class to ask me if I've thought about switching classes...If that's not a clear sign, I don't know what is.
Then, is Canadian History. With a grand total of TWO other grade tens in the class...And I only talk to one. And she's the only one I talk to, because we don't know any of the other grade elevens.
We have text books, and I had to return my math one in order to get a social studies one. So, in class, I run up to my locker, grab the book and head down to the book room (Very well named if you ask me); so I stand in line for about ten minutes, and go back to class to sit down and wait for the line to die down. A few minutes later, I get up and leave to give it another go. And, to my dismay, there are only thug monies waiting for their books. You know? Thug monies? G-slice, Home Boys? Yessss, you know what I'm saying... So, I stand in line in front of them, listening to their quite obviously forced slang accents, talking about the "William brothers"...That show on BET...I'm more black then these beat-offs.
So, after TWENTY minutes of waiting inline, it's my chance to get a book. The man can't find any...I have to go to the back of the room, through the maze of books to find it. Finally get it done, and back to class, and the teacher asks me to right about what I find interesting in the text book...It's a text book..
I also used to have a crazy teacher for EXT, not "Crazy" per say, but the man had issues..He's a 'Nam vet, and has a tic, and one hell of a temper. He also spent time as a Staff Sergant. Ever see the move "Space Balls"? Remember that odd little man in the Vadar spin-off suit? That's ALMOST Morrison to a T. Short man, the glasses, balding, always smiling, aged and stressed, no neck, nazzely voice..Also, the man talked to his computer. I went in for extra help one day, and he wouldn't listen to anything I was saying..He was literally having an in-depth conversation with his computer.
Andy Jollimore. You might not find this funny, but I do. You see, Andy is some what functionally autistic. He's a short fella, round little belly, stubby, pig-like arms and legs, with round little fingers..A water melon shapped head. And wild, almost mullet like hair. Anyways...Andy used to absolutely HATE me in grade nine because I was dating (And still do) Cara. Andy had the hots for her. He wanted to hump her into submission. So, he'd watch me, follow me, stand outside my class and stair in at me..With this squintey little glare and condescending smirk. And he has this weeiiird voice, nazzely almost..But..It comes from the throat...If you can imagine it? Maybe when I get a mic I'll put up some voice clips on a site and link it..Anyways..He'd say things like "I hate you Mr.Farr" then run off down the halls before I had a chance to look up. Occasionally he'd say things like "I'm going to KILL YOU JACOB." which, was funny for a while.
Now it's grade ten. We're in high school. The kid still follows me. Today, standing around with the mates and the woman, and who shows up? Mr. Jollimore. He walks by a few times, and stands behind me, stairing that squintey squirrel like squint..Then I hear "Hellllloo....Jacob..." "Hello Andy" I say, without turning around. All of the suddent I hear a slam. The little bugger wacks his head off a locker, and dashes down the hall and into the foirier (Incorrect SP) where he disappears into the crowd.
Weird I know, yet funny. One day we were sitting in the hall, waiting for classes and such, and he just stood there, laughing. Laughing and laughing, as if he was told if he stopped, he'd die. A teacher comes out of the class and says "What're you laughing about Andy?"
"Ohhh, I can't..I can't remember *Belly giggle*" "You can't remember?" "Noo..I just hear-..It was so funny, I can't remember *Belly Giggle*" Occasionally he'd lean against a wall and continue his laughter...But I know what he's doing..He's planning. I can see it in those cold, beedy little eyes of his...Some day he'll have his belly giggling revenge.
'Til then though, it's all great fun and laughs...Anyways..Enjoy

[edit on 8-2-2006 by Thursday]
Was going to edit the rest of the spelling mistakes..But I no longer care..But I tried for a while there.
[edit on 8-2-2006 by Thursday]

[edit on 8-2-2006 by Thursday]

posted on Feb, 8 2006 @ 05:51 PM

Paragraphs... spacing... you are killing my old eyes young man!!!

I have to tell you... It doesn't get any better then where you are right now. Enjoy yourself before you have to become mr. responsible.

posted on Feb, 8 2006 @ 05:54 PM
Yesss, very good point.. Only a few years left :down:

posted on Feb, 8 2006 @ 08:40 PM
If you wish to get better grades than your classmates, you could become friendly with your French teacher and welcome him to class with "Je nique ta mère connard".

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