It's been an interesting two months (okay, it hasn't really) and there's been a sense of anticipation for the day that is today (wish I could say it was yesterday, being spring equinox and all), because today is the day it all ends.
I realised I have this need to end my schooling life (in an actual school), so that I can keep arting everyday and become an excruciatingly awesome arter that arts most beautifully. Thus, I have decided that after eleven (or thirteen, if you count kindergarten?) years of studying in the same bloody school, I am moving on, and will be studying at home. Fortunately, the amazing government (okay, the very mildly amazing government) of my country has an actual board of education for this and has not failed to impress me (of course, then I went to their state office where the only answers my mother and I got for our queries were some disinterested and sleepy sounding grunts from this fat dude in a moustache - they then did not fail to disappoint).
On the bright side, there will probably be more helpful people in the school centres. Maybe. Maybe.
Okay, really on the bright side, I'll have a lot of time on my hands, and they offer some pretty cool subjects. On the downside of this whole leaving school thing, I'm going to miss the pinafore.
Yes, the very pinafore that I call my best friend, and relate all my woes to, to whom I will one day get married to (but only when she's forty and has no sex life). That pinafore that doth sit in Hong Kong and holiday as I write this post bemoaning her loss.
Ah, Pinafore, thou doth know not my woes,
Thy sparkling eyes, thy smelly toes,
My heart aches for thee, and thee alone,
Oh! Why do you not have wifi on your phone?
Having said that, and as I have taken to doing lately, written a fairly bullshit post, I will sign off, taking a swig of my cow's milk, and raising a toast to the coldest, most heartless pinafore (it has just now occurred to me that she actually might be the only pinafore to actually have a heart, being the only living pinafore? Ah well). Here's to the pinafore;
And useless posts.
I realised I have this need to end my schooling life (in an actual school), so that I can keep arting everyday and become an excruciatingly awesome arter that arts most beautifully. Thus, I have decided that after eleven (or thirteen, if you count kindergarten?) years of studying in the same bloody school, I am moving on, and will be studying at home. Fortunately, the amazing government (okay, the very mildly amazing government) of my country has an actual board of education for this and has not failed to impress me (of course, then I went to their state office where the only answers my mother and I got for our queries were some disinterested and sleepy sounding grunts from this fat dude in a moustache - they then did not fail to disappoint).
On the bright side, there will probably be more helpful people in the school centres. Maybe. Maybe.
Okay, really on the bright side, I'll have a lot of time on my hands, and they offer some pretty cool subjects. On the downside of this whole leaving school thing, I'm going to miss the pinafore.
Yes, the very pinafore that I call my best friend, and relate all my woes to, to whom I will one day get married to (but only when she's forty and has no sex life). That pinafore that doth sit in Hong Kong and holiday as I write this post bemoaning her loss.
Ah, Pinafore, thou doth know not my woes,
Thy sparkling eyes, thy smelly toes,
My heart aches for thee, and thee alone,
Oh! Why do you not have wifi on your phone?
Having said that, and as I have taken to doing lately, written a fairly bullshit post, I will sign off, taking a swig of my cow's milk, and raising a toast to the coldest, most heartless pinafore (it has just now occurred to me that she actually might be the only pinafore to actually have a heart, being the only living pinafore? Ah well). Here's to the pinafore;
And useless posts.
I've been told I have no heart but that is trivial. What isn't trivial is the fact I DO NOT HAVE SMELLY TOES. (You've also never smelled my toes before so pfft what do you know. They smell like fucking roses)
ReplyDeleteI have been in very close proximity of your toes, since you've used me as a leg rest many times, and they do not, quite frankly, smell like fucking roses.
DeleteHello, just wanted to let you know that I tagged you in a thing (I'm so sorry, I really am... I feel like I have given you the plague or something). It's musical and weird as heck, so I thought you and your pinafore would appreciate it!
ReplyDeleteGood Luck! x