Has anyone noticed how sickeningly pathetic the first years are? (yeah, I know our lot has - our lot being the MTGfuckingS bunch). This year's lot all seem to be below waist height which makes it physically impossible to just pass them in the corridor. No. You have to either stand on them and then pretend you didn't notice (for those of you who don't know, this is compulsory), or trip over them before you notice where they are and drop your school-bag (which, ofcourse, weighs a tonne cuz you have all those friggin GCSE textbooks in it, not to mention your workbooks *growl*) on their heads as you struggle to get past.
Then it comes to lunch time. Oh - yay. You walk out of class as usual to get back to your form room and instead of a nice, clear path, you are greeted by a stampede of hungry first-years, and since they are all waist-high, you have to hold your files high above your head before they are knocked from your arms and get out before they eat you cuz they haven't realised how to use the menu yet.
Sound like fun?
Then you see them crossing the quad with their little back-packs on both shoulders (... um ... no offence to any people in our year who happen to like wearing their back-pack on both shoulders ...) and then they start running across the quad as they get closer to their apparently very important destination (usually the next lesson which they always seem to be early for - not to worry, they'll soon learn the art of being late for every class) which causes their little back-packs to bounce. They stick their thumbs under the straps to keep the bag on their shoulders, but have you noticed how it always seems to fall off anyway?
They have fascinating conversations (I'm sure...) which seem to consist of what wotzhername's best mate did last night, or what happened last lesson or (even better) how their last sex ed. lesson went - "Oh my God! How embarrasing was that!!!" Not really considering that whatever they were talking about they will have to suffer ever month for about the next 40 years... (ha, they'll learn. Just wait till they get to our year *evil grin*).
Then when you try to do your fucking Chemistry exam (I do my exams in a seperate room from everyone else. I'm a naughty lil girl .... kidding) they walk past the Mulberry room (where I do my exams) giggling and chatting in THE LOUDEST FUCKING VOICE THEY CAN MANAGE while you're trying to work out what gas Limestone makes when heated - so Mrs.Wadsworth has to chase them down the corridor so they shut the fuck up (no, she didn't say it in those words - she should have done though, it might have worked).
And then they discover bad language and the marvels of putting on a scouse accent to impress their mates (*seething hatred*). When they think they've perfected (note I said THINK) their scouse accent, it seems to follow them through the school with no reason other than to maintain their position in the ranks of the Trendies Of MTGS and to apparently keep the interest of the lads (I have yet to discover how they linked a scouse accent to getting a decent boyfriend - anyone got any suggestions?).
And, yes, I am very aware that I've used the word "then" a hell of alot in this but that's because I'm writing this in a very pissed-off mood and thanks to those three first years, I may well have failed Chemistry - okay, so if I have it's my fault for not studying enough but that's beside the point.
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