My Arch-nemesis
I lived in fear of a Darth Vader-esque school dinner lady who stood me perpetually at the naughty table for refusing to eat mushy peas. An ordeal made worse after I was caught spooning the accursed veg into her wellies. Who, we ask, has wrecked your life?
Thanks to Philly G for the suggestion
( , Thu 29 Apr 2010, 12:01)
I lived in fear of a Darth Vader-esque school dinner lady who stood me perpetually at the naughty table for refusing to eat mushy peas. An ordeal made worse after I was caught spooning the accursed veg into her wellies. Who, we ask, has wrecked your life?
Thanks to Philly G for the suggestion
( , Thu 29 Apr 2010, 12:01)
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[From 2007]
I Do a Performance course at University, and there's this one girl who is possibly the laziest little bugger on the planet. She never pays attention in class, nor does she do any of the work. One time, we had to do a summative assessment of a play that we had all seen. We all worked hard; except this one girl.
So, it's 3am the night before we have to hand in this essay. Lazy Girl rings the doorbell of my flat, waking everybody up. She's stark drunk. She knocks on my bedroom door, and confesses that she's screwed for the following day. She wants to know if she can get my help. I look at the situation: she's desperate, teary and seems genuinely at the end of her tether. So, I decide to be the good samaritan and lend her some notes I made. She's grateful, then she leaves to write up an essay.
Fuck that.
The following day, she's back to being a lazy bitch and doesn't even seem grateful for what I did. Not only this, but when we get out marks back, she yells at me for giving her rubbish notes. [What the stupid idiot did was copy the notes up WORD FOR WORD, so she ended up handing in bulletins and abbreviations.]
Not really appreciating this, I decided I would have my revenge.
Next time an essay was due in, I composed a series of fake notes about the play that we'd seen; especially a series of paragraphs I wrote about a fake characters I had invented called Richard Stockwell, and how 'his performance in the play showed arrogance and evident small masculinity".
The night before the essay came. Lazy Bitch pulled the exact same stunt. I gave her my notes, and told her to write them into an essay this time to prevent what happened last time. She agrees. She writes the essay the day before handing it in, hands in in, and goes back to being an ungrateful bitch.
Oh, did I mention that our course lecturer was called Richard Stockwell? Oh, I'm pretty sure I did.
She's not on the course anymore.
( , Thu 29 Apr 2010, 13:32, 4 replies)
I Do a Performance course at University, and there's this one girl who is possibly the laziest little bugger on the planet. She never pays attention in class, nor does she do any of the work. One time, we had to do a summative assessment of a play that we had all seen. We all worked hard; except this one girl.
So, it's 3am the night before we have to hand in this essay. Lazy Girl rings the doorbell of my flat, waking everybody up. She's stark drunk. She knocks on my bedroom door, and confesses that she's screwed for the following day. She wants to know if she can get my help. I look at the situation: she's desperate, teary and seems genuinely at the end of her tether. So, I decide to be the good samaritan and lend her some notes I made. She's grateful, then she leaves to write up an essay.
Fuck that.
The following day, she's back to being a lazy bitch and doesn't even seem grateful for what I did. Not only this, but when we get out marks back, she yells at me for giving her rubbish notes. [What the stupid idiot did was copy the notes up WORD FOR WORD, so she ended up handing in bulletins and abbreviations.]
Not really appreciating this, I decided I would have my revenge.
Next time an essay was due in, I composed a series of fake notes about the play that we'd seen; especially a series of paragraphs I wrote about a fake characters I had invented called Richard Stockwell, and how 'his performance in the play showed arrogance and evident small masculinity".
The night before the essay came. Lazy Bitch pulled the exact same stunt. I gave her my notes, and told her to write them into an essay this time to prevent what happened last time. She agrees. She writes the essay the day before handing it in, hands in in, and goes back to being an ungrateful bitch.
Oh, did I mention that our course lecturer was called Richard Stockwell? Oh, I'm pretty sure I did.
She's not on the course anymore.
( , Thu 29 Apr 2010, 13:32, 4 replies)
I remember this from the first time.
Loved it then, love it now.
( , Thu 29 Apr 2010, 13:36, closed)
Loved it then, love it now.
( , Thu 29 Apr 2010, 13:36, closed)
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