TiK ToK

My attention span is unraveling me. Watching television, reading fanfiction with incest in it, blogging, and holding msn convos all at the same time cannot be good for the eye.
Oh no. No more television. Ah well. That just means I have an entire pile of homework desiccating while they wait for me to touch upon them. Projects, no less. As well as a bio quiz to study for next week.
The depravity of life is good, sometimes.
“They told Jit to go. He didn’t leave by himself. I mean, imagine if he smiled at those young, tasty, impressionable Year Ones at the CCA fair. We’d suddenly have no more intake! It would be so sad…security measures, you see.”
Thus this theory was somehow linked to the theory of evolution this morning. (Conveniently skips Math for fun but don’t worry I’ll definitely return to it for all its retardedness)
J.Lau: You know the way rabbits evolved to run away from tigers? It is the same thing with Year Ones and Jit Wu. To see if one is…something wrong in the head, you just have to see if his is able to stand in close proximity with Jit.
Of course, J.Lau is as J.Lau is, so a pinch of salt is probably wise in this case.
And then someone random talks about the MIXING OF GENES WITH JIT?!!!
Seriously screwed up. Damn.
Math. Was. Epic. Or awesome. Whichever works, obviously. And I am running out of thime to write this freaking blogpost, implying that an extraction of some more especial moments are in order.
Jit was in his slack pose, i.e. the lying back cradling his head, so me and DH decided to copy him. (it intrigues me that three tall people are sitting right at the front of the class, completely blocking shorter people like Peng Seng and Chew)
Mr. Yee: There are…four girls and one accelerated student here, and I don’t think any of them are…attracted to you. So you don’t need to pose.
Later Dao Han the super retard was flipping his tie against his face.
And Mr. Yee spotted him.
Mr. Yee: Girls, don’t you feel…disappointed that the boys in this schools are…
Jit: Dude nothing to do with us, just this retard over here WTH.
LMAO. Effing retard.
Odd I realize I need to go forward into the past to tell something important. Like, architectural changes to our class.
Essentially, class 403 is steadily transforming into a band studio. Which can be scary as I chanced upon DH and Cyrus jamming at the electric piano in the morning. And DH would say, WEEKA-WEEKA-WEEK!
And the very last quote of Mr. Yee shall not be mentioned here due to it being too incriminating for his own good. That said, I’ve already incriminated him. Which can only be…I dunno. For his own good? *sniggers*
Moving forward. Forward more. My remote control isn’t working somehow. Garn now I have to get out of the sofa to change channels.
Bio was good. Like. Over a week our teacher somehow became a doctor. That’s just so…WoAh. For the rest of the lesson, I wasn’t sure if he was just hyper about getting the new title, or if it was his usual teaching style. Rapid-bullet teaching style. I like the analogies, though.
Mr. Low: Imagine if we had a group of foreigners we wanted to turn away at the customs…oh no, no, that’s NOT a good analogy…
But hey I QUITE like it. So I furthered the thought and let the unwanted people be the foreign particle in the cell, the vesicle transporting them be the specially arranged tour bus, and the cell membrane as the cliff. *for notes on exocytosis, Wikipedia is a good start*
“Hey you people. Get on this bus, and this bus only”
“OK!” *in a retarded kinda voice.*
Some time later…
“Um…how come we’re like headed for a cliff? GET THE DRIVER ARGH WE’RE GONNA DIE!”
‘This bus has been set on autopilot’
“Uh-oh”
:D
Crap. Rewind. Rewindrewindrewind.
Mr. Murali: Would all the Koreans come outside to meet me now.
*Lots of students stand up. GG*
Later on…
Mr. Yee: Why you talking and laughing?
James: Oh, Dr. Hang thought there were only 10 (50?) Koreans in the entire school and was like O.o when we all came.
N1
And to end off…
Mr. Yee: I don’t like it when you talk about something and don’t tell me, because I will immediately think it’s about ME. Ad then I go around the rest of the day scratching my back wondering if there’s a tortoise drawn there.
ANGEL SIMPSON’S TIE IS SO COOL.