The fairy fayre:

Mud!

Cars in mud.

Me in mud.

Mud in my hair.

Mud in my clothing.

Mud in my mouth.

Covered in filth... and loving it :)

Went to Peacocks in town.

Saw some year 9 pupils outside (inc. a gentleman by the name of Mr Burke). Told him that in school he is protected from me but out in the real world, he isn't (a great sense of personal well being)

Bought more "Jersey Underpants". Saw more pupils from my form group which turned out (to their surprise) to be far more embarrasing for them).

Saw cool gamer line on "Dork Tower" (Having a rod of silence means never having to say you're sorry)

Played City of Heroes.

Suffered more cell death as I cruise inexorably towards my own personal heat death of me :)

All appears right with the world.

Weekend of "wandering about a bit a nd talking about stuff" went well (with Ranalf as partner in crime). I used to hate Ramsgate but now even I have to admit it's come back from the brink to be quite a nice town.

Bought some vest tops, wife beaters - without any sign of a wife :)

Also bought underpants, those trunk types.

When I read this back I realise that to get a life I'm probably going to have to steal one...

This probably won't come as any surprise (especially not to me) but education is screwed. I've spent weeks doing teenager coursework to the point where I've basically done it.

All in aid of a league table comprising percentages of pass marks (A* to C) which have ALSO been completed by other teachers. It's a bloody teacher arms race.

The last thing we seem to need is actual pupils getting in the way ("I personally have 68%! Wot you got? 72%! Bastard!")

AAAAAARG!

A bloody wood numph!

I demand a recount!

I'd stick the picture from the quiz site but it doesn't need repeating :)

Thanks for that Rufus

...and I've suddenly remembered why I avoided the concept of a live journal for so log. I have an aversion to writing things down. Diary's have always been a no-no (all those personal bits of information that could be read at any time by anyone).. If I want someone to know something I'll tell them (or in a number of cases fail to tell them... but that's another matter/entry). The PGCE record of development document (the mainstay of any PGCE course) is nothing but a glorified diary which, in ,my case meant that it was full of the least amount of writing possible. Much of that was fictional.

That raps up this rant :)

Now I'm here I have no idea of what to say.

Probably a typical response to someone who doesn't keep a diary.

Maybe something will occur to me, apart from what I've typed already :)