On Parent's Evenings, Sleep Medication and a Right Cunt of a Cold.

Well, this is certainly turning into one of those weeks- despite my being in a lowly long-term cover position I've been following a policy of making myself as useful to the school as possible so when THE POSITION shows up, whenever that happens, I can be seen as an attractive prospect for them. With that in mind, this week I took part- voluntarily, mind- in my first parent's evening, chatting to families of my year ten pupils about their progress. Most of the families were fucking rednecks but they seemed pleased enough to have someone talking to them being as how the regular teacher is still off sick- I'd love to say more about why, but I really fucking really can't.
Anyway, what else? Well, since just after Christmas, right, I've been having this crazy-ass bout of insomnia. It's not the first time, but it's certainly the worst. I've been unable to sleep before 0300 or 0400, with my mind spinning and random, out-of-context phrases or words looping in my head, basically driving my ass fucking insane- I get up at half six, so I needs me my sleeps. Last week I went to the GP, and after doing her level best to diagnose depression (which she couldn't, as there is none) she elected to sort me with a week's worth of Zopiclone, AKA Zimovane. I've been prescribed this before in my late teens, but I don't remember the side effects being this intense- each night I've taken it I've been having vivid-as-fuck dreams, some of which have been quite nasty. Over the weekend I was in some Resident Evil III-type situation, only I remember being in a barn with a dead dog and I kept stabbing the fuck out if it with a pitchfork, really mashing it up even though I was aware of what I was doing and how crazy it was. They also give me a bit of an aftermong until about mid-morning the following day... add that to the utter gypsy CUNT of a cold I've come down with today, and it feels as though my skull has been stuffed with asbestos fibres- my sinuses are itchy and enflamed, I'm sneezing constantly, my nose is all scabby and I'm basically a bit of a drooling mongoloid right now. Wait, wait, I can't say "mongoloid", I mean I'm a drooling 'tard. No, not 'tard, spacker. Shit, sorry, I mean... look, I'm all over the shop. My head of department told me to go home this lunchtime, but I clung on until the end of school and added before I left that I'm taking tomorrow off if I still feel rough- I do, so on the bright side I'm having a fucking sick day tomorrow.

Well, that was an ill-thought out and poorly written rant. Don't blame me, it's the drugs.

"She Got A Big Face!"

A totally untouched pic here of Jo O'Meara from the current Celebrity Big Brother:

The Return of Bauer Hour.

Looking back through the archive, during the last series of 24 I note that every other post here was about how brilliant it was and how it was blowing my mind etc etc- I won't be doing the same this year as I realise how boring it must have been to read. I'll just say that the sixth season has now started in earnest, and five episodes in it's as shockingly good as ever.

What did I do before BitTorrent?

EDIT: I hate myself, but this made me laugh a lot.

EDIT AGAIN: Okay, this is the last mention of 24, I promise- this site has also been making me chuckle lots since the beginning of the new season.

Roll Up! Roll Up!

Haven't shown a decent accident of nature for ages, so feast your eyes on this poor fucker from LiveLeak.com:

Baby Born with Brain Outside Skull
A baby boy was born with a cleft palate and brain outside his skull in a maternity hospital in the southeastern Turkey recently. His parents have had trouble getting medical treatment due to a lack of local specialists.

HELL FREEZES OVER.

From www.thedigitalbits.com:

"Paramount has officially set Twin Peaks: The Second Season for release on 4/10".


Fucking hell, finally! The first season has only been sat on my shelf for something like six years. Still, better late than etc.

BURN YOUR TELEVISION.

I reached a conclusion today. Ready?

The power to imagine is dying.

I teach Drama, a subject that thrives on creative input from pupils. I make sure that the environment is one in which pupils can feel safe from ridicule and judgement, and I do my best to keep lessons lively- music, moving images, I try to fucking well keep it dynamic, but the time has to come where the pupil takes over and infuses their work with something of themselves. All the fuckers can do is rip off shit catchphrase comedy ("Eh-eh-ehhh!"), try to act the gangsta, or mug like pricks to get easy laughs.

Until I teach a class where the pupils can take a suggestion and run with it, can explore an inner world that doesn't come from a screen and can relate to each other in original terms without relying on pop-culture, then I'll stand by my assertion that the imagination is dying- each kid that gets a plasma screen in their bedroom forgets how to switch on the screen inside, where all the really good programmes are on. I'm speaking in broad terms, I know, but I love having the power of abstract thought and I don't want to see a generation without it.

Anyway, in other news, I'm actually going to see GWAR.

Some Tool Goodness.

Someone's phone-cammed and Youtubed a piece of the Tool concert I was at from November!

Cardiff International Arena, 30/11/06

The fucking sound-guy was all over the shop, eh? I didn't remember that, being wrecked and all.

Happy New Year, Everyone.