The princess and the pearoast
With thanks to Rachelswipe and Nunnerfly for reminding me of this...

Age 14 and our school decides to branch out a little by inviting in a local ‘modern dance’ choreographer to work with us during PE lessons for the next 8 weeks, the idea being that the workshops would end in a dance performance at the local theatre, choreographed and performed by us and videoed and edited by the year above’s media studies class.

So this effete knit-your-own-bloody-yogurt type turns up, trailing scarves and trying to get us in touch with our inner core through the medium of mime. Every PE lesson for 8 weeks, we have to pretend to be a tree or other such pretentious wank in order to build a dance production that truly represented our deepest longings and desires. Which mine were to rip this fuckwit’s arm off and beat him to death with the wet end.

The week before the performance we discuss costumes. Now, given my obvious physical failings (the extra six inches of height, the coordination of a stunned ox, together with the flat chest, poodle perm and NHS specs) and I’m hoping for a costume resembling a burkha. And what did we get?

Catsuits. With *takes breath and holds back the pricking of tears* tie-dyed tights over both the legs and with a hole cut in a second pair to be worn over the head, like a sweater. Mother of God.

The day of the performance and we’re handed our tights to put on. And some stupid, stupid fucker has bought them all in one size. Small. Which meant on me that the bottom half came up to roughly mid thigh and the top stopped somewhere round my collar bones. I begged and pleaded not to be humiliated in front of everyone like this but no, according to Wayne fucking Sleep the show was more important than the drink problem this was going to subsequently give me.

A good friend of mine who was videoing the performance said, and I quote “I actually wept in pity when I saw you. Then I stopped and pissed myself laughing.”

And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go and take a valium and have a lie down.
(Rakky (forgot her password) The muffin maverick, Mon 22 Aug 2011, 9:08, 7 replies)

The person who pissed themselves laughing at your (quite frankly) terrible luck here...
...you class as a "good friend". What exactly would you define as a "bad friend"....?
(Don Draper is, indeed, mad and a man., Mon 22 Aug 2011, 9:40, closed)

When the link to the video appears, you'll know..
(BeatsWork, Mon 22 Aug 2011, 10:07, closed)

you know how much i love you
and how much i hope you are coming to monty's bash and crashing at mine again.

but.

PLEASE tell me there are pictures??
( rachelswipe with a fork, Mon 22 Aug 2011, 10:29, closed)

I was giggling throughout ...
... but "Wayne fucking Sleep" really finished me off.
( Wet-chinned bag shanker Cannot parse Wogan, Mon 22 Aug 2011, 12:54, closed)

I've just realised how awful that reply sounds.

( Wet-chinned bag shanker Cannot parse Wogan, Mon 22 Aug 2011, 12:55, closed)

We had a nob-end like that once at our school.
He made us do riverdance on a tiny, tiny stage. So, we were basically jumping up and down, kicking the kid in front in the back of the calf for twenty minutes. Only problem with that was that the poor chump in the middle front got kicked hardest when everybody span round, and he was the only asian face in a sea of white. He took it as long as he could, than ran off, crying. We got some very angry looks from the asian parents that night.
(universalpsykopath loves what you've done with your hair., Mon 22 Aug 2011, 13:54, closed)

I know your pain
As someone who has also been made to dress like a tit and dance in front of a sea of parents, I know how you feel... Still funny though! *click*
(Cydonija well it sure as shit ain't sad, Tue 23 Aug 2011, 10:57, closed)