Kids running the class[I figured since it's my first post on B3ta, I may as well make it a big one. I've split it up into four different stories, only one of which really involved me lying, but never mind.]
Part 1: No lies involved, just replying to a post.
A lad called Ross from our old school did actually end up teaching the Computer Science A-level course for most of the year, because the actual teacher broke both his wrists in a cycling accident, and so was unable to write, type, etc. And because the school had an appallingly under-funded IT department, there was no other IT teacher available to teach.
I am aware that this sounds like total bullshit, but it's god's truth, I swear.
Part 2: Several small lies.
Also in relation to the above post, I have so far handed in 1 of the 8 problem sheets I've been given for my Physics lectures. I got away with 'personal problems' for a couple of weeks, but then I was running out of ideas.
Then, as if from Heaven, my tutor had his lecture times rescheduled, so he was unable to do the lecture at the normal time last week, so that bought me a third week. He sent out emails asking us to suggest a new time, but as I have a problem with sending emails from my University account for some reason (this is actually true), he didn't get my available times until after he'd scheduled a new time, which Lo And Behold I couldn't make it to. Which bought me a second week. Then he rescheduled it again to a time I could do, but it turned out that that week I had already booked a coach to visit home. In actual fact I was missing all the lectures on that day because it left at 11, but I told him that I'd booked it for just after my last lecture, which meant I couldn't make it to the tutorial he'd scheduled for afterwards. Week three of procrastination. This gives me another week to catch up on all my work. Yes, that's going to happen...
Part 3: Feeling quite a bit of guilt over this one.
I was a little shit when I was younger. Once, at a school disco, I felt the tit of this lass, whom we shall refer to as Louise, as I don't remember her actual name. I'm not proud of it, but there was lots of illicit alcohol floating around, and I was young and wankerish. Anyway, Louise blatantly saw it was me, and found me later on and punched me in the face, as did two of her friends. I continued to proclaim my innocence in the face of her accusations, and although I left the disco in (deserved) dishonour, Louise later became convinced that it was actually a particular other lad (call him Tom), who bore a passing resemblance to me.
Louise and her friends were really apologetic to me for hitting me, and were nice to me for the rest of the year. She never spoke to Tom again.
I feel really guilty for groping her, although I don't feel guilty that Tom got blamed, as a) I had nothing to do with that, and b) he was even more of a dickhead than me.
Part 4: Karma.
Last year I was at my friend Tom's birthday party (different Tom; this one is a lovely lad), and I drank a considerable amount of alcohol, and was very drunk. I wasn't particularly obnoxious or anything, but I'd gotten extremely drunk on several recent occasions, so two of my friends (whom we shall refer to as Helen and Mike, as those are their names) decided it would be a good idea to teach me a lesson.
So the next day I woke up on Tom's floor, along with everyone else, had some pastries for breakfast, and then went about my business. When I spoke to Helen on MSN later, though, she asked me if I remembered groping our friend Sian. Of course, I didn't, as I hadn't, but she insisted that I had. The fact that there were some already-established gaps in my memory of that night did little to help my confidence. When I spoke to Mike, he corroborated Mike's story, adding that she didn't seem to object, and that I might be in there.
That wasn't what was on my mind; I was mortified (as I was no longer the pervert child I had been), and tried to find Sian to apologise to her, but she'd already returned to Uni, and I didn't have any of her phone numbers. All my friends were in on it, so I spent several weeks acting very meek and sober, until I finally got hold of Sian's email address and sent her a very apologetic email, only to recieve the reply 'What are you talking about?'.
I was, as you might imagine, rather angry, although the lesson about the dangers of getting extremely drunk was not lost on me. Not that I stopped, like.
(,
Wed 26 Nov 2003, 17:50,
archived)
Part 1: No lies involved, just replying to a post.
A lad called Ross from our old school did actually end up teaching the Computer Science A-level course for most of the year, because the actual teacher broke both his wrists in a cycling accident, and so was unable to write, type, etc. And because the school had an appallingly under-funded IT department, there was no other IT teacher available to teach.
I am aware that this sounds like total bullshit, but it's god's truth, I swear.
Part 2: Several small lies.
Also in relation to the above post, I have so far handed in 1 of the 8 problem sheets I've been given for my Physics lectures. I got away with 'personal problems' for a couple of weeks, but then I was running out of ideas.
Then, as if from Heaven, my tutor had his lecture times rescheduled, so he was unable to do the lecture at the normal time last week, so that bought me a third week. He sent out emails asking us to suggest a new time, but as I have a problem with sending emails from my University account for some reason (this is actually true), he didn't get my available times until after he'd scheduled a new time, which Lo And Behold I couldn't make it to. Which bought me a second week. Then he rescheduled it again to a time I could do, but it turned out that that week I had already booked a coach to visit home. In actual fact I was missing all the lectures on that day because it left at 11, but I told him that I'd booked it for just after my last lecture, which meant I couldn't make it to the tutorial he'd scheduled for afterwards. Week three of procrastination. This gives me another week to catch up on all my work. Yes, that's going to happen...
Part 3: Feeling quite a bit of guilt over this one.
I was a little shit when I was younger. Once, at a school disco, I felt the tit of this lass, whom we shall refer to as Louise, as I don't remember her actual name. I'm not proud of it, but there was lots of illicit alcohol floating around, and I was young and wankerish. Anyway, Louise blatantly saw it was me, and found me later on and punched me in the face, as did two of her friends. I continued to proclaim my innocence in the face of her accusations, and although I left the disco in (deserved) dishonour, Louise later became convinced that it was actually a particular other lad (call him Tom), who bore a passing resemblance to me.
Louise and her friends were really apologetic to me for hitting me, and were nice to me for the rest of the year. She never spoke to Tom again.
I feel really guilty for groping her, although I don't feel guilty that Tom got blamed, as a) I had nothing to do with that, and b) he was even more of a dickhead than me.
Part 4: Karma.
Last year I was at my friend Tom's birthday party (different Tom; this one is a lovely lad), and I drank a considerable amount of alcohol, and was very drunk. I wasn't particularly obnoxious or anything, but I'd gotten extremely drunk on several recent occasions, so two of my friends (whom we shall refer to as Helen and Mike, as those are their names) decided it would be a good idea to teach me a lesson.
So the next day I woke up on Tom's floor, along with everyone else, had some pastries for breakfast, and then went about my business. When I spoke to Helen on MSN later, though, she asked me if I remembered groping our friend Sian. Of course, I didn't, as I hadn't, but she insisted that I had. The fact that there were some already-established gaps in my memory of that night did little to help my confidence. When I spoke to Mike, he corroborated Mike's story, adding that she didn't seem to object, and that I might be in there.
That wasn't what was on my mind; I was mortified (as I was no longer the pervert child I had been), and tried to find Sian to apologise to her, but she'd already returned to Uni, and I didn't have any of her phone numbers. All my friends were in on it, so I spent several weeks acting very meek and sober, until I finally got hold of Sian's email address and sent her a very apologetic email, only to recieve the reply 'What are you talking about?'.
I was, as you might imagine, rather angry, although the lesson about the dangers of getting extremely drunk was not lost on me. Not that I stopped, like.