"He'll sit there and go, Dipsy... Po... Dipsy... Po. I honestly don't think he knows colors. Just Teletubbies."

1.20.2005

Club Drugs

Today was far too eventful. I will tell it in sections, since Blogger is a bitch and ate my original hilarious draft of this entry that was probably the best entry I've ever written.


We began, as usual, in French class.

Everyone was in a very argumentative mood, for no reason at all. Madame told us gross tales about why you should wash jars before you eat from them, multiplied Maggie's germophobia exponentially, and then went on a big rant about how you cannot teach two-year-olds etiquette. She said, "You can't teach a two-year-old etiquette! They will still stick their fingers in their noses and say, Mommy! Look what I have!" She even did the last part in a two-year-old voice, which was so entertaining.

Anyway, Pencil Case decided, somewhere in his convoluted mind, "Hey! It is time for me to make up another tale of Super Brooker!" This one involved Super Brooker chastizing Coca-Cola boycotting nuns. I shouted at Pencil Case for being a liar and yelled, "This is exactly like last week at study tables when you made up that story about Super Brooker making out with his wife by the water fountains!" As you can see, it had already been a long morning.

Since my comment apparently just took things too far, Madame said, "Pencil Case! Kellinka! I am sending you down to Student Services to resolve your issues!" We dutifully followed her orders, and the Student Services people told us to go into this little room at the end of the hall, which I call The Broom Closet, and write a plan. We threw together a very nice-sounding plan of lies and gave it to Madame.

But, since it had been a long morning, I was still having issues. Madame had given us passes to our next class, and since Pencil Case and I were in no hurry to get to theology and English, we were sitting in the hallway, discussing why this week has sucked. Such as Van Chelsing still not being back from her sick leave. Anyway, Madame comes up the stairs, asks us what we're still doing, and sends us to Student Services, this time to talk to an actual counselor like we were supposed to the first time.

We were banished to the broom closet again for a good ten minutes. We laughed at pamphlets about club drugs, and then we saw the Counselor. The Counselor determined that our problem is that we are too close and so we know how to push each other's buttons. She wrote this in a note to Madame, which Pencil Case and I had to sign and give to her. Since it was well into second hour, we walked right into the second French I class, where all of the students laughed at us.

I spent the rest of the day alternating between upset and ridiculous. Church was unendingly long, and involved joking around with Maggie, having water splashed on my face, and breaking my candle when I did not actually mean to. Also, 98% of that time, I felt, as usual, like passing out. Then I traversed onto ICP, where Adult Hermione had to take Kirschling down again, and to theology.

Pencil Case and I decided, politely, to go apologize to Madame. She said, "Apology accepted." Then added, "Oh, and I talked to Mr. Brooker. Yeah, he never yelled at a nun yesterday. You were lying, Pencil Case." Pencil Case tried to defend himself, I laughed at the fact that I was right, and then Madame told us, "Skeedaddle bedaddle." That was the worst rhyme I'd ever heard in my life, and I told her that, but we followed her orders.

On the way to lunch, I realized that all the flyers for Sweetheart Switch spelled "Ours" with an apostrophe, so I spent a good ten minutes of my lunch period wielding a Sharpie like a madwoman, slashing out extraneous apostrophes. Stary thanked me for my dutiful actions as a Grammar Nazi.

The rest of the day was, I would have to say, very dull. At least until after eighth period, when Pencil Case chose to antagonize me again. I pushed him, not very hard, and flew into another freshman. Well, who do you think was there? Oh, yes. Madame. She laughed at us, and then Pencil Case yelled at her as she went down the stairs, "Kellinka does club drugs!"

3 Comments:

Blogger Pencil Case babbled mindlessly...

Kellinka!

I need your help!

Tell Liz Murphy that she has my backpack, and that I would very much appreciate if she dropped it off or if I could come and get it later!

Please! Talk to her!

12:18 PM

 
Blogger Kellinka babbled mindlessly...

Pencil Case! Liz gave your bag to Ellen, who left it in the French room. After school today, Madame told me to tell you that it's now in the main office and you can pick it up there.

4:44 PM

 
Blogger EJ babbled mindlessly...

Kellinka,

Blogger may have eaten your original post, but, this was funny none-the-less.

:)

EJ

9:29 AM

 

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