jez

JESUS WEPT.

And to think I was glad to be back at Rock School. Today has involved a whole lot of sitting around being lectured by people who have no idea what they're talking about. I don't mean that in a rebellious, punky way. They literally had no understanding of the subjects they were prattling on about. First we had an hour of the Shah Of Persia (as we'll tactfully call him), talking about what should've been bebop but seemed to be more focused on the Korean War. My jaw muscles are practically bleeding from attempting to keep a straight face - I admit I lost it when my friend tried to start a mexican wave.

Then we had our usually affable Composition lecturer banging on about how to write an evaluation for what felt like the entire afternoon. It wouldn't have been so bad if he hadn't insisted on convoluting the issue beyond all recognition to the point where even I, an A Level English student, gave up trying to follow things and started manically writing "gin" on my paper. In bullet points.

Don't get me wrong, I love my course, I really do. But days like today make me want to sell all my equipment and join the Foreign Legion...