Firstly, I'd like to point out that this week has flown past in a flurry of barren heads and lined up nicknames for rememberance and sentimentality and lines that make a lot of sense.


I just remembered something I wanted to blog about at least a week ago. Whee!


During assembly, 3J was announced as the sec3 winner of the CNY decor competition. Their representative went up to the stand. We were in a good position to see the representative. One of the 2G girls (probably the bimbo with rebonded hair that looks horrible) was all, "Socks so hiiiigh."


Hey, at least the representative, with her tucked in shirt and 'high' socks, doesn't need to wear ankle socks and the big billowing-out not/semi tucked in shirts that were the fashion icon of the 18th century, to feel 'in', 'accepted', 'cool', or whatever reason. Unlike them.


Bimbos!


Oh, and Mr. Foo blew up in art class today and told all of us to get out of his class. Someone mentioned it as an artist's temper. Haha, I've heard that lots of times, and I LOVE IT. Anyway, writers and artists are in roughly the same line anyway, artistic and all, so would it be okay if I suddenly screamed at all my classmates to get out of the classroom? I think so.