Another guest article to kick off the new academic year, this time telling of their experience of the new, stricter, ever stupider uniform rules.
So, in case you were not already aware, the school has decided to implement a new, strict, no-excuse policy on uniform (now where have we heard that before? -Ed), as well as adding that the shoes to be worn must be black and non-trainers for reasons unclear; perhaps Cthulhu will finally escape from the DT block if we don't appease it with slick black Penny Loafers. Well, that was a lie, a reason was given, but I think you'll agree Cthulhu seems to make a lot more sense than the Head's idea that we need to be prepared for future career opportunities, when Facebook, Twitter, Google, Apple etc., some of the biggest companies in our time, have the most lenient dress codes known to the black voids CEO's have instead of hearts, as well as the fact that most of us will end up working in Sam’s. But for whatever reason, they have decided to implement this, and the effects are painstakingly obvious. Ask any one of the many victims of the Decapitated Head's ego-gratifying, and they'll be so peeved, that after they get the gratification out of their eyes, they'll tell you how much the school apparently cares about your non-crumpled tie, rather than your knowledge and education.
I was actually one of the people who were sent home because of my lack of blazer. It was eerily how efficient they were; I barely had enough time to exclaim I had a note explaining why I had no blazer, and just enough money to buy a small island in the Atlantic to purchase said turd, before they said to me how sorry they were, slapped me on the bum, and then shoved me out. At least that's what I thought those muffled cries and screams were; it is quite hard to understand someone whose nose is so far up the Head's arse, that they became the first grammatically correct inside-out shirt. So I went to Brent Cross to buy everything I needed, along with the small army of people who also got
I bet schools all over the country are already following suit.
The most aneurysm-inducing part of this whole matter was that I had an ample excuse, I had the means to correct it, and I had no time to then correct it, but instead of logic, reason and common-sense, they sent me home, leaving me to miss the entirety of the morning periods. Upon returning, I ended up acting like a headless chicken, gawking at the sudden Gulag that had been built in the middle of the school; both a safety risk, seeing as I had no idea which of the open doors to the Pit of Tartarus were actually supposed to be closed and not ideal places to play money up. And, the more obvious result, I missed my &#?$@!£ education, you know, what a school is supposed to be giving me, not fashion tips for the recently lobotomized. When will the school learn that uniform should be secondary to education, I hear you ask. Well, I guess it'll be the same time they stop lacing their cookies with meth at their meetings. But do not worry, anonymous reader, don't say I have done nothing (besides screaming at the voices to stop), as I have already wreaked revenge, replacing their goodie-bag of blue sky rocks with an asbestos-filled one instead, simple enough to find seeing as how the school are only just removing all that asbestos from the buildings now...
DISCLAIMER: This guest writer was evidently very irate when they wrote this, and rightly so. As such, we have censored the fruity language. Unfortunately, this means it won't count towards your 5-a-day.