Saturday, 12 November 2011

Just say NO!

Up until my cousin got married in 2006, I hadn't been to many weddings and I certainly hadn't been an important part of them. My cousin and his wife to be, asked me to do a reading. It was the only one in the short ceremony. It was a poem.

They gave me the poem a few weeks before the wedding. The only problem was, that the poem was talking about...well.... having sex. I definitely don't have any problem with talking about sex, partaking in sex, watching sex, anything about sex really, but when it comes to my cousin and his wife to be, I felt a little perturbed.

I visualise most things. It's how I learn. I am a visual learner. Being able to visualise things is fantastic, when applied correctly...
Please Johnny, go faster...
Driving an Aston Martin db9.
Laying on the beach in some far off hot sunny country.
Johnny Depp... ermmmm....popping round for tea... (or something similar).
Being on stage in front of millions of adoring fans because I AM the coolest, most talented chick in the music industry.

I struggled with the images of my own, cuddly, lovely, caring cousin, fucking his wife to be... and to add to this, the poem contained words such as 'breast' in it. Which again, I usually have no issue with.

Apparently, the best breasts in

I like breasts. I have two of them. They are my best assets. I like other breasts that don't belong to me. I often look at the breasts that don't belong to me. I dream about having perfect breasts. About those belonging to Jessica Simpson. But I didn't want to be thinking about any of this when reading the poem on my cousins wedding day.... mainly because I know that I would indeed look at the breasts of my cousins wife to be. Slightly inappropriate on their wedding day standing in front of an audience.

I rather stupidly discussed my issues with my other younger cousin and sister. They found this highly amusing and laughed every time I read the word 'breast'. This was not good. How very fucking mature of them.

I did, however, stand up on the day, look defiantly at the registrar (her breasts were not on display) rather than either the bride or groom, or any of the other 60 guests sitting staring at me and read the poem. I sat down sweating an unusual amount and swore to myself that I would NEVER, EVER be an important part of another wedding.

So that lasted all of one year. I was asked to be a bridesmaid AND do another reading. FUCK, FUCK, FUCK. How can I say no. I really really did not want to do either.

Now, I want you all to imagine the worst possible thing that could happen to you as a bridesmaid.

Are you thinking about it....???

The last thing I remember being told, as I was linking arms with the other bridesmaid, was 'mind the little step down into the room'. Blah, blah, blah....

Oh, how I wished I HAD minded the little fucking step down into the fucking great big room full of fucking people looking at the bridal party.

With a little noise, which I can only describe as a cross between a monkey's mating call and a peacock, (seriously) I fell down that little bloody step, and landed on all fours... in the aisle, behind the bride, and nearly took the other bridesmaid with me. She obviously managed to stay on her feet (what a BITCH).

EVERYONE, and I mean ALL 100 guests, the registrar, the bride, and all the fucking hotel staff, turned and looked at me.

If you have ever wanted to die, that would have been a perfect time.

I then did what any other IDIOT FUCKING BRIDESMAID would do, which is stand up, thank everyone, wave a little, tell them I was ok, then proceed to laugh uncontrollably for the entire ceremony. I wasn't alone with uncontrollable laughter, this applied to most of the guests and the bride and groom.

You would have thought that would have been more than enough, but no. I then had to stand up half way through the ceremony and come face to face with all those people that had just witnessed me acting like a drunken baboon on nitrous oxide. I had to do the reading...

My opening line was 'now let's hope this reading goes somewhat differently from my walk up the aisle.'

It was a great recovery from utter despair. Everyone loved me! Now, that's how you up stage a bride on her wedding day!

More wine please
So, my rule of thumb is to NEVER, EVER agree to be part of any wedding ever, under any circumstances.

I'm not good with weddings unless I am a drunken guest with no responsibility at all. I like this.

By the way, the bride and groom actually thanked me for my 'display'. They said it helped to break the ice and it was the best thing that could have happened, as it was all a bit tense before that.

I am inclined not to believe them or to agree with it being 'the best thing that could have happened'.

And NO... no one caught it on video or camera. Not even the two cocky, male professional photographers, that started to fuck me right off. There was no You Tube'ing of me at all.


Sunday, 6 November 2011

KLF said it best with 3am eternal

-Wearing red lipstick
-Eating olives
-Making mince pies
-French braiding
-TaeKwon Do training
-Always turning the hot tap off first
-Reading Enid Blyton books
-The smell of fresh tabacco
-How to knit
-Lollies solve all problems in doctors surgeries & hospitals
-Saying the letter H (Haitch rather than Aitch)
-Creating a blog!
-How to read music and play an instrument
-Swimming for Southern Counties
-Wearing skinny jeans
-The smell of new books
-Drinking Jamesons Irish Whiskey - straight
-Making sure CD's are in the correct box
-Rubbing my foot on the bed/significant other to help fall asleep
-Expansion of my music parameters
-Dislike of loud bangs
-Importance of cuddles

I find it intriguing how people can enter your life and can influence you without even realising. Without YOU even realising.

Everything with a mass has a force of attraction, right? We would not remain on earth if it wasn't for forces of attraction, the planets would not orbit the sun, the moon would not orbit the earth and the tides would not exist if there were no attractive forces. We are just molecular structures with a mass. Our mass is small. Our forces of attraction between each other are weak and have little impact.... or do they?

Do our paths cross because they are destined to? I am not sure I believe in destiny, but are the choices we make and the chances we take irrevelvant because science would have figured it all out anyway?

If you are wondering about the list above, it is about all the silly little things I would never ever have experienced or learnt and become important to me, if it wasn't for the people that have entered my life and had some kind of impact on me.

People that are very near and dear to me, people that are fleeting moments, people that are not still here to advise or guide, people that are no longer part of my life, people that are sporadically part of my life, people that are a daily part of my life, complete strangers.

People that know they have an impact, people that try to have an impact, people that have absolutely no idea of their impact.

I wonder if I have any impact or influence at all on other people. People in my past, the present and even in the future. I wonder if I have added to someones life even in the most minimal of ways. I wonder if it is positive or negative.

I have just re-read this post. I wrote it at 3am
This is what happens when you can't sleep in the middle of the night. Far too serious for a Sunday. In fact, far too serious for ME. Fuck it. I'm going to publish it anyway.

Wednesday, 2 November 2011

Birthday Celebrations in Newcastle-Upon-Tyne.

It was my birthday last week. I am now.... older. BOOOOO.
In celebration, we decided to visit some friends up north.
I honestly had no idea that Newcastle-upon-Tyne was such a nice place.
As a proper southerner, I imagined that being that far north would be more than just grim. I was wrong.

The River Tyne
The River Tyne with some bridges
The Tyne Bridge
The Gateshead Millenium Bridge

After a 5 hour drive, with so very little sleep the night before, I was thinking that I would not be able to deal with six fingered northerners with accents so broad I would have to concentrate so very very hard to even grasp the general idea of the conversation.

My ability to concentrate is limited at the best of times. It's not that I can't, it just that I sometimes forget to listen. I tend to daydream. If you interest me, fascinate me, then you got me for as long as you want me... otherwise there is little chance that I will be completely focused on any conversation.

We must have spent ages looking for this bloody 'Angel of the North' We knew it was on the A1 SOMEWHERE...

We found it. This was the best picture I could muster up.
I KNOW! I could definitely win awards with that!

We sung 'Fog on the Tyne' as we drove across the bridge. Haha. Watch this if you don't know what I am talking about....

Paul Gascoigne, what HAPPENED to you?! Where are you?

We were shown around the city and surrounding area's by a friend we used to work with, that decided to move back up north.

Whitley Bay

We were shown the delights of Whitley Bay. Beautiful!

And the nearest Royal Marine Commando base.

I considered calling the number to see if I could be recruited. Just for the day.

I met up with another friend who I think was surprised at how impressed I was with 'The North'. He claimed most people come up to get pissed.

He isn't wrong. If you have ever watched an episode of Geordie Shore then you will understand. It's Newcastle's answer to Jersey Shore. If you're not orange and if your skirt is more than two inches long, then you stand out like a sore thumb.

Well, not us, oh no..... until Friday. The night before a 5 hour journey back home.

So incredibly STUPID.

We fell upon a bar, next door to the hotel. They charged us £4.20 for a double vodka and a double gin. WOW!! The next round went down to £3.20... I was NOT complaining. Then we discovered that trebles were two for £5.

This is the only place I know where the drinks get cheaper throughout the night.

I don't really remember much else.

I apparently sent a few random drunken texts at 1.26am... 2.42am.... 3.08am. Hmmmm..... now that hasn't happened in a long long time!

This was one of them...

so meeker I can't atbt
Double. Shotss
Vodka not good .9

I am pretty impressed with being able to spell the most important words correctly. Predictive text is brilliant when drunk.
I also found this photo on my phone.

I must have found this very amusing at the time.

I also discovered that I had written, in toothpaste, on the mirror in the bathroom of the hotel room.
'Love you long time xoxo' 

Highly unlike me. I would never write xoxo on anything.

The 5 hour journey home was, to be honest, probably not legal. I can only describe it as horrific. I cannot talk about it anymore. It makes me want to vomit, even now.

That Angel of the North has a lot to bloody answer for! I am pretty sure that she was laughing as we drove home!

Saturday, 29 October 2011

Newcastle upon Tyne

It's a dangerous place. It lulls you into a false sense of security. It's beauty and friendliness trick you into thinking it's all going to be ok. But, then, it pulls you in and doesn't let you go, with outrageous temptations.

£3.90 for TWO DOUBLE shots of vodka! £5 for TWO trebles.

Are you fucking kidding me!

I am NOT a very well little bunny today.

More to come...

Sunday, 16 October 2011

Offensive Messages

When I received this MMS on Friday, it had me a touch concerned. No, really, I did have a little panic.
For about, ermmm... 2 minutes.

Then, it made me laugh. A LOT.

Do I agree with what the school did? Do I agree with what the teacher did? Do I think it's ridiculous?
Should I comment?
Maybe not. It might be printed out and hung on the school fence by tomorrow...

If they ever read what I have written, I may bit in a tiny bit of trouble. But if you are stupid enough to write these things on facebook, with your profile picture and name next to your 'status' what do you expect?

I'm not entirely sure who 'they' actually are. Are people employed to find inappropriate things on the internet that have been written by teachers? I have a feeling that this would not be too difficult.

I will leave you to guess what my thoughts are on all this bollocks and an inappropriate gym teacher.

Thursday, 13 October 2011

Did I tell you about the time...

I am just on my way home from meeting up with my cousin and sister.
I have just heard, from my cousin, just about the funniest line ever.

We were strolling around central London, catching up, chatting about everything and anything. Then, this...

"Did I tell you about the time I accidentally sang karaoke in a Malaysian brothel?"

Are you fucking kidding me?! Did you actually just say that?
There are so many things wrong with that sentence.

1. How does one ACCIDENTALLY sing karaoke? Either you make the decision to hold a mic and sing into it, whilst reading words from a screen, or you don't. There is no accident about this at all.

2. Karaoke? Really? What the fuck? Why? Just why? No one can sing karaoke and be good at it.

3. A Malaysian brothel??!! How the fuck did that happen? How could a group of white young women in their 20's end up in a brothel, accidentally? Surely to god you would notice? Surely the scantily clad whores fucking men would give it away, no? Obviously not!

I love my cousin dearly, but if you thought I was the ditsy one in the family, the you need to think again. I take all credit on passing on all my ditsiness (I know that's not a bloody word!)and she has clearly followed all my rules on how to attract men.

I am proud of my little padawan!

That is all.

Wednesday, 12 October 2011

Email fun

I read a book a while ago called 'e' by Matt Beaumont. It was basically made up of emails that were sent in an adverstising agency. It was very funny. I think probably the funniest book I have read.
Anyway, I came across the book again today and it made me think about emails that go back and forth between my colleagues and I. So, I thought I would share some with you.

There happened to be an 'incident' at work the other day. (Surprise, surprise.) The student in question had to write a statement about the incident.

Hahahaha... Like Elvis??!! A 12 year old child actually used this analogy! That's fucking brilliant. What's even more amusing is this was added after he had written the statement, just in case we were wondering what 'gel in his hair' looked like. And now, suddenly, it all becomes so much clearer.

And because I am a professional, just like all my colleagues, and take incidents like this very seriously, this email was sent.

So, if you can't see this it says...

I will be speaking to O, although I just cant help believing he wouldn’t be involved in such nonsense. I will tell him that we have suspicious minds about his activities that day, and that although he may live in the ghetto, we expect better. I know S is all shook up over this incident and that if O is involved then he needs to tell us – its now or never, basically. I will also tell him that I do not want him fraternising with students in lower years, and he needs to indulge in a little less conversation with yr ? boys.

I should also tell you about this one particular teacher I have the fortune of not really working with at all. She is in a completely different faculty and year group. I rarely come across her which is a good job. Mainly for her rather than me. It is very difficult for me not to want to punch her in the face every time I see her, or hear her. I know you're probably thinking, that's not very nice, but trust me, there are MANY others that share my thoughts.

It is often difficult to keep a straight face when she gives an announcment to staff or students. This isn't helped by my colleagues also ripping the piss out of her.

Does this amount to work place bullying? Ermmm... maybe... but when you look like this... what do you expect?

This honestly couldn't be a better look-a-like.

She likes to think she can sing..... SHE CANNOT! I have heard her. It's shocking. But yet, she is in charge of the 'singing group' to which students, who also cannot sing, belong. (She does not teach music.) They even do concerts and shit like that. I sometimes attend to show support to the school, students etc... and to have a good old laugh.

She emailed out a notice about some kind of rehearsals for this singing group.

The responses were fucking hilarious. They were mainly just images. Most people understood. She was obviously not copied into any of the emails.  

Here are some of the images that were flying around via email...

Now, please don't judge us for being so mean, but these kind of emails really do brighten up everyones day. Everyone likes to laugh. Right? We really are very nice. Well, I am anyway.

We do a bit of teaching every now and then too. Look...

Sunday, 9 October 2011

Saturday, 8 October 2011

Blonde V's Brunette

Kate Hudson

Natalie Portman
Today (in about 30 minutes) I am saying goodbye. Goodbye to my blonde hair.
I don't know if this is the right decision, however, they say a change is as good as a rest, so, here's hoping that I am feeling rested in a couple of hours.

I am apprehensive yet excited. I have been blonde for 10 years now and it's time for a change. It isn't my natural colour, I am a brunette.

I am wondering if women's hair colour really does affect how others perceive them. Men, other women, employers, potential partners, friends...

Do blondes really have more fun?

Wednesday, 5 October 2011

Nightmare Day

Today has been an odd day. I have laughed, cried and wanted to punch the people that run the school right in the face.

I am a bit of a control freak in my lab. Don't get out of your seat unless you...
Now you can clean that
 shit up!

Just get the fuck up and stop
messing about
 1. Put your hand up and ask. (Even then it is unlikely.)

2. Have been asked to move because you're doing my fucking head in.

3. Are having some kind of seizure and can't keep yourself upright (and so falling off your stool onto the floor).

4. You have begun to urinate or vomit on the desk or floor (and not a moment before).
So when 'idiot male A' gets out of his seat because 'idiot male B' made a comment he didn't appreciate, I wasn't best pleased.

I was even less pleased when A started to punch B in the arm... as a joke... ha bloody ha!
Not so fucking funny when B started to hit back and I had to get in the middle of them.

All under control, I thought.

A goes and sits back down.
B starts on a rampage around my lab. Picks up a metal stand and base, wielding it above his head and goes for A.

"Check me out, I'm decapitated
and spurting blood, yet still
able to stand up and hold
my head in my hand"
Not really considering all possible outcomes here, I decide to step in to prevent serious injury occurring in my lab. Mainly because I am not very good with blood.
Any sign of blood and I'm outta there. Seriously, veins and arteries and shit like that freak me out. I'm the one that has to be monitored while having blood tests because there is a distinct possibility that I will end up on the floor with a needle still in my arm and blood spurting everywhere... ERGGGHHHH...
I'm starting to feel slightly nauseous and faint just typing this.

B is removed by another member of staff after my 'spurting blood panic' intervention.

Incident over.... Oh no... why would you think that? These are mentally unstable teenage boys!

I keep A back at the end of class to make sure he is alright, before going to the relevant members of staff to sort this mess out.

Couldn't find a picture of a teenage
boy wielding a metal pole... this is as
close to that as I could get.
Little did I know that B is waiting in the corridor with another fucking metal pole...
I think it might have been a chair leg this time. I am confused as to how he managed this. What did he do? Go into a class and ask if they minded him borrowing the metal leg from the chair they were sitting on...??!
It kinda got a bit more serious this time (not that the first time B armed himself with a weapon wasn't serious). I haven't seen a student that angry, ever. I had to physically restrain B. To the point that any onlooker may well have thought I was sexually harrassing the poor boy.
This went on for a good 5 minutes, which doesn't sound like very long, but when you have your arms wrapped round a 15 year old ANGRY teenager, it seems like forever.

Yes, yes, yes... let all the jokes flow... I can already hear your minds whirring with innuendo after innuendo... WHATEVER. (To be fair, I would do the same.)

I used every single ounce of strength in me to stop him from getting to A.

I am not very big person, height wise or weight wise so I was having to chant things like "by jungle law, the ghost who walks calls forth the power of ten tigers" and "by the power of Grayskull, I HAVE THE POWER" to help a little with the task in hand. (I always knew that by watching Defenders of the Earth and He-Man would come in handy one day.)

Didn't really think through the likelihood of me being knocked out cold with that metal chair leg. The thought did flicker through my mind momentarily, but not long enough for me to stop with the restraining.

Eventually a sixth former took the chair leg out of B's hand and I did ease up on the restraining.

Then the help arrived in the shape of a couple of male members of senior staff. Lovely chaps, thanks for that, a touch too late though.

Mmmm... VODKA
It was only after I had... well, lets call it 'a moment' shall we, to take stock and reflect, that I started to become a little pissed off. Because, you know what, it really isn't my job to do shit like that. My job is to teach science and direct the learning of my year group.

And, remember that half drunk bottle of vodka? Yes? Now there is a little less in it than yesterday.

So, after a very shakey start to the day, I am ending it with a  few many glasses of Rose wine. I don't give a fuck if it's only Thursday tomorrow.

Sunday, 2 October 2011

My very first interview...

So... the mentally unstable Plumber from Brooklyn interviewed me. It was as surreal experience. One that I kinda liked. A lot. It was my first interview, ever, so I am a little anxious.
I have no idea what goes on in that mind of his, but I am pretty sure if I did, I would be in a corner rocking and crying silently.
I just hope I do his blog justice as it is one of my favourites. If I don't and it becomes one of those epic failures, I will take it on board and learn from my mistakes. I will then go and sit in that corner and start rocking and crying silently.

Here's a little taster. Now, if you want to read the rest you need to visit Mr P here.

-Tell us more about you
Really? You probably don't want to hear more about me.... that's just you being polite. I'm not that interesting I promise you.

-What's the weirdest thing that happened in your career?
They allowed me to become a teacher. Then they allowed me to be in responsible for 10 adults and 160 13/14 year old children as well as teach science to teenagers. 
Do these people even realise what they have done?!

-What would you do if a kid that you thought was really ugly, turned out to be a horse in disguise?
All kids are ugly!

PS. Be careful of the racoons over there.

Monday, 26 September 2011

Not your typical Science Teacher... or am I?

This post is for The Hasidic Plumber, as requested...

I am NOT your typical science teacher. I am an exception to the rule...for the following reasons...
  • I do not wear a lab coat. (Although I do have one, and occassionally wear it when I don't want crap all over my clothes.)
  • I do not wear glasses. (Although I do have contact lenses and I do wear my glasses at home sometimes.)
  • I do not look like a geek. (Define geek... and I am very ditsy.)
  • I do not have strange crazy hair. (I have dark brown hair, but am now a fake blonde... with straight hair. Not for long though... going back to dark brown.) 
  • I do not act like a 'Mad Scientist'. (I am mad, and I am a scientist, but I am not a mad scientist.)
  • I do not carry test tubes and chemicals around with me. (I did once take home a newton meter and some 10g weights by mistake. Oh, and iodine.)
  • I do not like dissecting frogs. (I do not like dissecting anything, but I do it for the children, to make their future brighter. It was sheep eyeballs last week.)
  • I am not eccentric. (I really am not eccentric in any way, shape or form.)

I often look through microscopes in this position....
'Now, students, you have to get into this position to be able to see properly'

I am here to help you work through those stereotypical views you have of teacher's. And to help you understand that these stereotypes are there for a reason. My research was carried out in the pub on Friday after work. My colleagues, of varying disciplines across the school, came up with their own stereotypes... please remember that when reading. And I won't go through EVERY subject, I will bore you if I did.

The Female PE teacher
  • Lesbian. If not actually a lesbian, then looking like one... whatever that means. Short hair, small boobs, no make up, short nails, HAIRY LEGS! Erggghhh.
  • Big ass. Considering PE teachers should be pretty physically fit, they all seem to have large asses. I don't know how that happens. Maybe if they did their fucking job properly, they would have such a large behind.
  • Stroppy. They never have a smile on their face. I don't know why. It's not like they have to mark any work or plan any lessons!

PE teacher from the TV series
Waterloo Road.
The Male PE teacher
2008 Big Brother contestant
trainee PE teacher.

  • Very good looking. I don't think I have ever come across an ugly male PE teacher. 
  • Fit. Always so very physically fit. They play football, rugby, tennis, hockey. Cycle to work. It's never ending. It's beautiful!
  • Popular. They are loved by all students in school, boys and girls. Not to mention the staff. Mothered by the older female members of staff, oggled by the younger female staff. When they wander in to the staffroom wearing their little shorts, it just makes your day.

The History & Geography Teachers
  • Patches on their elbows. I think this is compulsory. They must do a lot of resting of the head in hands with elbows on desk.
  •  Well equipped. They always carry coloured pencils around with them. I have no idea why. Perhaps to colour in maps and stuff.
  • Very messy. They have the messiest classrooms and offices. They have everything in them you could ever want. 'Have you got a pink inflatable crocodile?' 'I think I do, let me check!' 'WHAT??!!'
  • Bad handwriting. You just cannot make out what they have written on the board, or in the kids books. Maybe that's why the kids have no idea that Africa is NOT Canada. And that Hitler was a bad bad man.

The Drama, Music & Art Teachers

  • Weird. They are very odd. Keep themselves to themselves over in the 'expressive arts' department. Which is a bloody good job really. Don't bring your 'oddness' over into the rest of the school please.
  • Dramatic. Which I suppose is expected, particularly of the drama teachers, but they really do talk out of the arses sometimes. Actually, a lot of the time. Blow things out of all proportion. I caught a fish THIS big. WHATEVER!
  • Strangely dressed. Where did they get their clothes? And footwear is even stranger. And please please don't accessorise with that crap. It looks like a 5 year old dressed you.

The Math Teacher
  • Short. Both male and female math teachers are all very short. Maybe 'short person syndrome' manifests itself in people destined to become math teachers. This might explain why they are all so 'shouty'.
  • OCD. They are very particular over small details. If you haven't lined up a sum properly in your exercise book you've had it.
  • Highly strung. Don't push them, or you'll lose them! They'll end up in a corner crying.
  • Struggle with classroom management. But, I have to say, teaching math to teenagers is bloody difficult stuff.  

The English Teacher
  • Popular. Just like male PE teachers, English teachers are well liked among students and staff.
  • Calm. Oh so very very calm. That is possibly why they have very well behaved classes. They send their students into a trance.
  • Awesome vocabulary. Well, they wouldn't be very good at their job if they didn't. They use long words that only English teachers understand. It's like they talk in code sometimes.      
  • Questionable dress sense. Not as questionable as the 'expressive arts' department, but English teachers make some bizzare choices sometimes. I think they do it on purpose, to confuse you. Keep you guessing. Try to solve the riddle.

What were your teacher's like at school? Did any of them fit these descriptions?

Saturday, 24 September 2011

Let's take a look through the square window....

I had a look around my office yesterday. It is already a mess after only 3 weeks. I have many items lurking in the depths of paper work that do not belong to me.

I have that power that all teachers LOVE!! The power to CONFISCATE! Of course, if one was to do this outside of the school environment it would amount to extortion.

'Give me your hoodie young man or I will exclude you' in a school corridor

amounts to...

'give me your money biAtch or I'm gonna bang you up' on the High Street on a Friday night.

Clearly the latter is a little more threatening and violent than the first and could end up with jail time, but the intention of aquiring an item that does not belong to you by using threats, is the same.... isn't it? Hmmm...?

Anyway, let me show you a few items that I seem to have AQUIRED over the last year.

1. Pink Fake UGG boots.... in less than perfect condition. They are MINGING!!! (Not sure that is actually a word). Such trash!

2. BB GUNS... three of... confiscated from three male students of different ages. I often wish I could whip one of these out, point it at the biggest idiot in the class and then tell them to write.

3. Half a bottle of vodka. And YES, the other half had been consumed by one particular young lady. NOT ME! Although there has been many a day when I have been sorely tempted to have a swig. In fact, I think I may well have done..... once. Shhhhhhhhhhhhh...

4. A baseball cap. Clearly not part of school uniform, but a really cool cap. I love Batman. I might keep this if it weren't for the fact it had been on some scummy kids head, who has probably had head lice.

5. Several hooded tops. I have no idea who they belong to. I confiscate from random students all over the school, indiscriminately. THEY SMELL!

6. A piece of wood, used for poking others... I think in jail they call this a shank. Which is probably where this kid is going to end up anyway, so he's obviously getting in the practise before such a time. I am considering turning it into a boat and putting it inside that bottle of vodka when I've finished it.

7. A laser. I HATE these. Don't shine it in my eye while I'm trying to teach you, you idiot! That's gonna REALLY fuck me off!

8. A ring. This is just awful. Who wears a piece of crap like this?! Huh?!

9. A half inflated (or half deflated... optimistic or pessimistic?) yellow football. I LOVE confiscating footballs from kids.... I like the complete control I then have over at least 40 kids who want it back! I think this may stem from my love of controlling other spherical objects belonging to men (not boys, men). The power just goes to my head.

10. A broken mobile phone. Haven't got a clue who this belongs to. I may send this off to one of those companies that give you money for old phones. I reckon I could get £2 for it.

11. A bottle of Rose wine. This was not confiscated. This was a gift from a student. Awwww... how lovely. I keep it in my office in case of..... ermmm.... emergencies?

So, anyway, if these items aren't claimed by Christmas, my family and friends will be recieving them as gifts.
I would be quite chuffed if I got a half drunk bottle of vodka.
Even if it was only £5. Would be better it was full, but beggers can't be chosers. And perhaps vanilla or raspberry in flavour.
You know what? I wouldn't be chuffed with a £5 half drunk bottle of vodka at all.....

I would be pretty happy with a laser though.