the IB symposium
IM TOO EMO TO TALK!but since this is a private dairy, I'll probably laugh when i read this again.
And since no one really knows about this page, it's all A-OK!
The IB symposium on Friday was quite a farce.
First, the Caucasian Mr. Thomasson from Denmark came over in his Rolls-Royce. The fat Indian security guard stopped him at the gate saying "U CANT COME IN LAH ANGMOH, COME IN AT 240 WHEN SCHOOL ENDS"
Then when his limo got to the circus, the clown came over.
Of course me and my four femme fatales came over and chased away the clown ("WRONG CIRCUS LA LAN JIAO") and said Hi come upstairs into my office for some coffee.
Horror of horrors..
I forgot to keep the handcuffs and leather straps from my private meeting with Mrs. Three last night. They dangled innocently enough from the coat hangers, mocking us.
This was followed by my office window being smacked into two by a thunderous right-foot karate-kick-super-rare-awesome-volley from a certain individual, whose power belies his size. Although his name is protected so I can't say it, and anyway the ball knocked my guest into his cup of coffee, making him Indian without cosmetic surgery.
A very hot
I mean, very angry Indian..
After I had cleaned him up (enjoying every minute!) I said Hey why don't we discuss this beside the koi pond.
It seemed that one of my more mischievous students had rigged the bench beside the pond so that the supports were weaker than Derby County's defence on a bad day. My guest ended up wet (MY UNDERWEAR IS SOAKED YOU SEAHORSING OCTOPI) and very angry indeed.
The classrooms were our next stop, and it was not a happy day when I encountered an entire class in the middle of a mass orgy. Bottles of wine and six-packs of half-drunk beer lay all over the place drenched in all manner of sticky substances, and everyone was naked anyway.
My little glowstick began to rise.
Ashamed, I turned away only to be smothered in a pair of talking cleavage.
Does this make any sense to you, dear reader?
It made little sense to me that my day was going so badly.
After he had left, Fanny asked me
"So what are you going to do about it?"
I smiled, and replied,
"Nothing. I told him we're the Raffles Institution."
posted by the_dr3@m3r @ 11:05 PM
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