Bad start to the week. Missed the first class on Monday morning. It was supposed to be an economics period, but as it turned out, we had accounts. So I bunked accounts. The bloody teacher loves picking on me. He walks upto me practically every class and either asks me really stupid questions or checks my book. He also loves commenting on my not-so-exemplary attendance record. For some reason, the fact that I joined college late doesn't seem to register in that thick skulled head of his, no matter how many times I try reminding him.

Boredom has ignited in me a creative flame that I can't seem to put off. Here's some evidence.

Standing under an oak
I met a bloke
Wearing a cloak
He offered me coke
I said I was broke
He said "don't joke"
And began to smoke
And as he spoke
He started to choke
And stroke
His throat and poke
Me hard and thus I awoke
From a weird dream about a bloke
(applause)