We went out to Wells market to buy ingredients. On a whim I bought some strawberries for decoration, my BIG mistake! Seriously, and there were warning signs!!!
- The momment I asked to have less strawberries he jacked the price down from £1.50 to £1.20.
- He didn’t say anything, in fact at first I didn’t even know that he’d given me the strawberries.
- He had a skinhead hair-cut, a black mask, black trousers, a black and white striped jumper and a potato sack with a pound sign painted on it.
Note. One of these is a total lie.
Anyway, those strawberries melted. I don’t care what the teachers say, strawberries can melt. By the end of the trip my book, my form, my recipt, my list and my ingredients were wet and red. Advice, if you ever buy strawberries at a market, BEWARE!!!!
Speaking of beware, some teachers are dangerous as well.
Mr Basil and Mr Fairgrass (my year head and tutor group teacher) are like oil and water!
Mr Basil says that he’ll only stop us doing something if it’s dangerous, Mr Fairgrass reccolects nothing of the sort. Mr Basil says that stall places are first come first served, but after I’ve snuck intothe hall at break to reserve a place for my team, Mr Fairgrass tells me that I’ll be given a place and I’ll stick to that place. He’s the first teacher that I disagree with on so many things. I think the problem is that I’ve grown used to teachers liking my personality, and my good English skills, as he’s the English teacher you’d think that, like last year I’d be going to writers workshops an stuff, or at the very least getting nice comments on my work. But the nice comments have to be from somebody who knows their stuff, not another student, hopefully I’ll get some nice comments after half term when he’s marking our work. (Hey, I don’t get paid for these things and our teacher forcesus to use planning sheets and loves succsess criteria, love of your work can only get you so far if nobody compliments you highly, it’s like having a train with no stoker, raw coal will burn up after a while.
Also, the boys in my class are getting worse, as well as singing they actually came up to me and put they’re hands on my legs and arms, when I told them that it was a criminal offence they begged for another chance and stopped. (Notice that I could be slowly losing all my friends due to them hieghtening my temper, or dreading school everyday, or becoming a well known laughing stock, but the momment that my annoyance might actually affect them they stop.)
Well I think that’s everything!