Dear Die-ary...

Oh dear LORD. Right now I'm in an MSN convo with a bunch of bleedin' chavs. They're so stupid... their inane comments!! They keep repeating 'lezbo', 'slut' 'suk ur mom' and other unimaginative comments. Hopefully Nikki will post that on her blog. And the story that started it all. *stares at Nikki*

So, today... OK then. I got there at 8am, as I do. my Dad works at 8, so that's the time I've got to be there. Problem is, I start at 9am. And today, I started at 10. The reason for this was because the shop-ladies invited me over "for a brew". Then, they talked about their first boyfriends and sticking sanitary towels to your chest. I was mentally scarred for this. I have no idea why the subject. It was just chosen.

After an hour of this torture, I was taken to the storage room. Yay, storage room! I was asked to draw a to-scale diagram of it. I don't actually see the point in this excercise, because it's a small thing anyway. But I did it. I measured the place, drew it a few times, and got bored of it. And so, I had time to look through the storage room. The storage room of doom. Not really of doom, but I like that word. So, I searched. There were shells, gas masks, morse-code things, still working, telephones... a lot of things. Now, here's a thing... I picked up the gas mask there. I asked if I could put it on, the man didn't say yes, and he didn't say no. So, I put it on for a bit. I put it down, and all was well. Then, another man came in, and discussed if they should put the mask in, and said it wasn't a good idea. I inquired as to why, and they explained of some asbesto dust inside, that can kill if you breathe it in.

Am I gonna die??

I obviously didn't tell them of what I did. I didn't want them to report this to the skool, then I get my a$$ kicked in. Not good. I told my Dad, and he said I should be fine. So I'm going with that.

So, anyway, it's also my Mom's birthday. I did get her a present. All was going well, though, until...

Ninja Nanny showed up.

She ruined EVERYTHING. Her nausiating howling, and the way she was calling me a 'silly baby'. Just because I like lighting the candles, doesn't mean I'm a 'silly baby'. So I just insulted her and played my gameboy for the rest of the evening. Until she left. Good ridance. Yet another birthday ruined by her. And get this - she was asking where I got Mom's presents, so she could buy some for herself. So I didn't tell her. She ALWAYS wants to join in with everything we've got. A holiday, new TV, new car, whatever we have, she has to have. I'm sick of it.

So very sick of it.

BLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEURGH