THOSE WHO SUFFER LOVE
I love my English teacher because he says that it's my job to not pay attention and only ever think about myself.
Seriously.
And he also started class this morning with "God, this class sucks..."
All my teachers already know my name. Which, I think, is probably a good thing. (Despite what everyone else seems to believe).
Cause they know my name because they like me.
You know why?
Cause I'm not a stupid stuck up cunt, that's why.
And because I'm nice.
I also love my section(homeroom) teacher. Our first conversation went kind of like this:
"So, I saw how you were having such a fun time singing at the assembly?"
(I didn't sing at all. I pretended to shoot people and tangoed)
"Oh, yeah. I was uh... I was singing on the inside, Mrs. Swann. I was singing right here."
Anyway, not having drama's a bummer. I don't have any place to let out all my spastic energy :(
And I'm in a really good mood.
And... Stuff.
Yeah.
Bad Latin Translation Number 3298487239074239-
"My father was once a foot. He's on fire... Wait... What??"