tag:theawfultruth.blog.co.uk,2009-11-15:/Basically, you can all just read my incredibely politically incorrect thoughts.MokoFeed2009-11-15T20:43:32+01:00tag:theawfultruth.blog.co.uk,2009-10-06:/2009/10/06/summer-lovin-and-all-that-7112752/Sean-2009-10-06T19:38:48+02:002009-10-06T19:38:48+02:00 <p>Hi blog.</p> <p>It's been a while, and truth be told I've kinda missed typing random crap about nothing.</p> <p>It's October now, and last month I started 6th Form. Which, to be honest doesn't seem a huge amount different to any other moment of my education. Classes, homework, people and added frees. It's not hugely exciting. My maths teacher hates me. Possibly something to do with the fact that I've only handed in one piece of homework on time. But correlation /= causation. Sure.</p> <p>Since June, I sat some exams. GCSEs. And did fairly well in them. Majority A*s, a few As, one B and two C's. While the rest of the year were shitting themselves with fear, I was just chilling out. Which is odd, I guess. But I don't see the point in worrying about something it's too late to change. It seems to make life a lot more managable, I find.</p> <p>So, over the summer I went to Exeter, via half of the south coast. Sang in the cathedral for a week, then went to Manchester via the south coast and London. Interviewed some people, came home and went back out to Baldock, in Hertfordshire, stay at a friends house where we accidentally gassed a goldfish to death, named him Klaus and gave him a Jewish funeral. Other hilarities ensued over the week I was there, including the drinking population of the household being drugged with sleeping pills in the spirits. After this, I went back up North again, to the Lake District for a week with family where it rained. All week. The same week that London was having record temeperatures. I wish my summer had been better organised. I could've got a train from Manchester to Windermere. Oh well.<br>It was an alright summer, basically.</p> <p>Then school started, and I went to a party and met a nice girl who I spent a night in a tent cuddling. Anyway, she's nice and we're still being lovely to each other. Not doing relationships, though. Effort. Innit.</p> <p>There's not a lot else really. <br>How are you today?</p> <p><em><br>"I hope this makes you smile, and I hope you stay like that for a while"</em></p> <p>I've got work to do now. Enjoy the quote.</p> <p>Speak soon <img src="/img/smilies/icon_smile.gif" alt=":)" class="middle" border="0"><br>xx</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://theawfultruth.blog.co.uk/2009/10/06/summer-lovin-and-all-that-7112752/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:theawfultruth.blog.co.uk,2009-06-08:/2009/06/09/the-ever-growing-dam-of-lies-has-been-breached-by-the-ocean-of-truth-nick-griffin-mep-6266114/Sean-2009-06-09T00:00:15+02:002009-06-09T00:02:07+02:00 <p><span>Nick Griffin.</span></p> <p><span>Let me type that again.</span></p> <p><span>Nick Griffin.</span></p> <p><span>I fear that no matter how many more times I type out that name and glare at it, my anger, frustration and disappointment will not subside.</span></p> <p><span>Nick Griffin.</span></p> <p><span>For those of you not in the know; Mr Griffin is the leader of the British National Party. The BNP are the party that think that anybody who is not of white caucasian background should get the boot back to where they came from. They are the party that will not let any non-whites to join. They are the party that symbolise all that is rotten and bad about our society. But don't take my word for it. Why don't you check out their policies at <a title="BNP Policies page" href="http://www.bnp.org.uk/policies">www.bnp.org.uk/policies</a>.</span></p> <p><span>So, you'll understand my absolute shock when they managed to get 2 seats in the European parliament on Sunday.</span></p> <p><span>Nick Griffin.</span></p> <p><span>"On D-Day, Britain sent an army to Europe to stop the Nazis getting to Britain. It is an absolute insult to the memories of those who fought that 65 years later Britain is now sending Nazis to Europe to represent us."  ~ Paul Kenny</span></p> <p><span>So, I ask the people of the North West, and those in Yorkshire, what the fuck were you thinking? I can understand people being cross with Labour. Really, I can (and it's only due to my exams that I didn't come on here and write some overused rubbish about how disgusting the expenses scandal was). But, you're meant to be responsible adults, for fucks sakes. <br>If you voted BNP, you don't deserve the right to vote. It's as simple as that. <br>If you insist on throwing away a vote, throw it to the Green party or the Lib Dems, or even UKIP, if you must. But ..</span></p> <p><span>Nick Griffin!?</span></p> <p><span>It's funny actually, because the BNP have this campaign where they're portraying all the westminster politicians as greedy pigs. Nick Griffin is actually the closest resemblance I've ever seen to a pig. Seriously. He's also no stranger to greed, either, if you look at his somewhat ... ungraceful build.</span></p> <p><span>Basically, it actually makes me ashamed to be British. Seriously. The idea that 250 000 people (that's the total vote they got, roughly, I believe) could vote for such ... crap, really really makes me want to leave. </span></p> <p><span><br>Anyways. <br>Today I went to the bank.<br>In fact I went to three banks.<br>Barclays, Halifax and Abbey. Today was the day that I decided I should sort out my tax free interest. <br>Banks are not the most exciting of places, but you know you're in trouble when you walk in and are offered a pension.<br>Barclays claim to be fluent at finance. It's only a shame that they're not fluent in English. To ask for a "R85 interest without tax form" and to be offered a premium rate pension savers account takes quite a lot of misinterpreting.</span></p> <p><span>I'll take a second to defend myself here - I know that I seem rather hypocritical, after my rant against racism. However, I do think that it's only fair that if you want to work in a public-facing job in a country (any country) that you learn the language first. I'd say the same about Brits going abroad. We only seem to speak two languages. English, and English very loudly and slowly. <br>Niether of which are comprehendable to your average Argentinian, no matter how slowly you say it.</span></p> <p><span>My last three exams, starting tomorrow, are Geography, Wednesday is Physics, and then next Tuesday is Statistics.<br>Then, I am free.<br>This summer is going to be amazing. I actually can't wait. If you're a cool person (and you actually know me), we should totally hang out this summer. </span></p> <p><span>On a finishing note; girls are really silly. Like, they miss the most blindingly obvious things ;_; <br>ah well.</span></p> <p><span>Oh, and, internet, I um, split up with my last girlfriend, just so you know. :)</span></p> <p><span>Oh, and, by the way, eh, I'll try and like, update after exams, and then at the beginning of summer. If that's cool with y'all.</span></p> <p><span><span>love <3 <br>xxx<br>Sean (:</span><br></span></p> <p> <small> <a href="http://theawfultruth.blog.co.uk/2009/06/09/the-ever-growing-dam-of-lies-has-been-breached-by-the-ocean-of-truth-nick-griffin-mep-6266114/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:theawfultruth.blog.co.uk,2009-04-05:/2009/04/06/oh-dear-5896687/Sean-2009-04-06T00:21:18+02:002009-04-06T00:21:18+02:00 <p>Hii internet.</p> <p>Dunno what to say really. <br>I'm a charity director now. yay.<br>I'm still failing at school. yay.<br>I'm happy. I think. yay?<br>I'm going to Reading festival with the awesomest person ever. yayyay.<br>I think I'm slightly screwing up a relationship :/ We'll see. yay? O_o<br>You're amazing, internet. I love you <img src="/img/smilies/icon_smile.gif" alt=":)" class="middle" border="0"> Don't forget that.<br>Recently; <br>I've been twittering. <br>I've been a bit overzealous facebooking.<br>I've even started using myspace a bit.<br>Oh, and I'm going to do some youtube vids and see how they go.</p> <p>Internet, I aim to get 7 A*s at GCSE. You know it aint gonna happen, and so do I. But, what I want you to do is tell me to work if you see me online.</p> <p>I was a bit annoyed yesterday. I couldn't go out. Not because I was grounded. Not because I'm crippled (I'm not, btw). Not because my parents are lazy, and not because the busses were on strike.<br>No. Yesterday, I couldn't get anywhere because some loudmouthed racist cow decided to die and have her funeral just down the road. I never liked Jade Goody, I had no more sympathy for her when she had cancer than I do for anyone else who has cancer, I still don't like her, and EVEN WHEN SHE'S FECKING <em>DEAD</em>, she still managed to piss me off. How the fuck is that possible?</p> <p>I have also taken to setting fire to any copy of the Daily Mail that I find, because it's a SHIT NEWSPAPER. Ironically, it's not even good at wiping SHIT after a messy toilet evening. No - before you ask - I have not attempted to wipe my arse with the Daily Mail. My arse deserves better.</p> <p>It's two years since I started this blog, and I'm glad I did. It's given me somewhere to plonk things, which is cool. I might move all my stuff to a different blog when I get my website sorted out (after the exams, fear not), but I'll keep y'all updated, like</p> <p>Oh, and am I the only person that thinks that 4 year olds could argue more intelligently than most of our politicians?</p> <p>love. <3</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://theawfultruth.blog.co.uk/2009/04/06/oh-dear-5896687/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:theawfultruth.blog.co.uk,2009-02-27:/2009/02/28/i-have-a-problem-5663489/Sean-2009-02-28T00:17:01+01:002009-02-28T00:17:01+01:00 <p>It's a big problem.<br>Y'see, I've always had this impression that whatever I do, I'll always manage to wangle it so I come out of it alright.<br>Reality check, much?<br>I managed to completely screw up my Geography coursework - insofar as not doing it after an extension. <br>So this means that I am forced to enter at foundation level and can, at best, get a C in Geography. This wouldn't be such a huge disaster if it weren't for the fact that I can't speak Spanish either, meaning I'll be getting a maximum of a C in that too.</p> <p>... This means that my aim of getting 7 A*s at GCSE can only be obtained if I get A*s in English lit, English lang, Maths, Stats, Physics, Biology and Chemistry...  This is hard - coz I'm shit at English. (that said, I was proud of the A*s I got in my recent courseworks).</p> <p>I suppose I'm a tad resentful of the younger years who effectively have no coursework at all to do. I mean, I can see the advantage of being able to do coursework, rather than just exams, but different people find different things easier - for me, I'd rather just do loads of exams - at least I can't put them off.</p> <p>At any rate, the word that springs most readily to mind is "gah".</p> <p>Of course, juggling work, school and social lifes is a challenge, and perhaps I could improve at it - but y'know, I really wouldn't want it any other way. I am who I am because of the people I know - and that's something I value a lot. For instance, all it takes is a look back through the past 2 years worth of my blog to see how I've changed as a person. For the better, I'd like to think. But some things just play around in my head - little things that I don't know whether I should feel guilty about or not. I mean, I'm a tad ruthless sometimes - I suppose I've always had to be, but I, like a lot of people, find it difficult to stop something so habitual.</p> <p>Today, I got a load of business cards for work (they look good, I tells ye!), and I had to fix my computer (again), I got asked to do a telephone interview, and am in contact with the children's legal centre - all these things I had to do myself. Why? Because it's up to me to get them sorted or no-one else will. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I've realised that in less than 10 weeks I'll be sitting the exams that make attempts to quanitify my intelligence to my future educators and employers, and it's really struck me that I'm at the point where most people grow up rather fast, but I don't seem to need to, because I'm already there. I've forced myself to get there through ambition - but now I'm essentially bored (this explains the lack of coursework) and I'm slacking off because I suppose I've held the tension for too long.</p> <p>It's 11:15pm right now, and I'm still reading emails. and trying to plan the rest of the month. Who does that at 11:15pm? I suppose I really need to refocus my attention to sleep and school, rather than all the other stuff. Wish me luck, I guess.</p> <p>: )</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://theawfultruth.blog.co.uk/2009/02/28/i-have-a-problem-5663489/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:theawfultruth.blog.co.uk,2008-12-29:/2008/12/29/midnight-musings-5291327/Sean-2008-12-29T07:20:44+01:002008-12-29T07:20:44+01:00 <p>I'm going to aplogise first. For lying. Because it's not midnight. It's 6am. Why am I awake at 6am? Because I'm crazy. And didn't sleep. Which makes for odd writing style. Full of full stops.<br>So anyway, I was thinking, the other night (a novelty, I know), about stuff. Like, life and society and ... well, stuff.<br>It all kinda glued itself into one huge ball of gluey mess, so I came to the following conclusions:<br>1) Every second furthers experience<br>2) Experience makes you live longer<br>3) Living longer means you procrastinate more.<br>4) Procrastination makes you ask stupid questions about life<br>5) Asking stupid questions about life gives equally stupid answers<br>And, at this point, I was about to discover how to invoke world peace and food for all. Then my brain shut down due to overheating.</p> <p>I guess the point I'm trying to make is that, sometimes it doesn't pay to read into things as much as we generally do. Sometimes..<br>stop worrying. Take a risk.</p> <p>That's the great thing about risks, y'see. It's a change. It either goes to shit, or pays off. <br>And you know what? Risks tend to pay off. It's statistics.</p> <p>I suppose the ironic thing is that, this year I'll be spending new year in glorious fabulous shiny Shrewsbury, in Shropshire.<br>Given the choice of:<br>a) South Bank on New Years eve with friends<br>b) Baldock to party with friends<br>c) ... Shrewsbury to get drunk alone and dance with old family members</p> <p>which would you choose? <br>I can almost guarantee it's not c. Unfortunately I have no choice.</p> <p>See, that's the annoying thing about the age I am. We're so full of inspiration, confidence, ability, yet it's always limited by the lack of confidence or trust adults seem to have.<br>It's a liberal age, we just needs the aged to be liberal. Easier said than done.</p> <p>To be honest, I'm all too aware of the fact that none of this post made any sense. It was made of loose strings of thoughts, and at least writing it has kept me awake for 18 minutes. The time is 6:18.</p> <p>Breakfast soon. And the world will wake to a day of mindless post-festivity consumerism to try and top up the kofers of a broken socialism.</p> <p>love you all.<br>peace with the bumble-bees.<br>Good morning.</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://theawfultruth.blog.co.uk/2008/12/29/midnight-musings-5291327/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:theawfultruth.blog.co.uk,2008-12-27:/2008/12/27/friday-and-the-next-week-5285379/Sean-2008-12-27T17:35:07+01:002008-12-27T17:35:07+01:00 <p>Because I'm a terrible person and am getting bored of this charade of work experience blogging, I'm going to do this last bit in one go. So here goes.</p> <p>Friday 5th September (Day Five)<br>Today I was working back at my old place. The Children's Rights office on Church Hill in Walthamstow. Not having a clue what I was supposed to be doing, I walked in at about 10am, to find that, surprise surprise, David wasn't there yet. He and I have known each other for a while, he works at the office permanently, and seems to do nothing. Kate turned up after a while (she's the Childrens Rights officer - also lovely) and set me to work typing out a letter. She seemed suprised when I came back to her after five minutes saying "done". Apparently it takes most people about half an hour to type out half an A4 page... God only knows.<br>Anyway, lunch followed, I love subway, and then I sat at a desk answering the phone for a while, until I got more typing to do, and eventually went to a meeting. Then I went home. Yay.</p> <p>Week 2. <br>Monday 8th September (Day Six)<br>This week I was set to be working in the Town Hall with my proper boss, Lyndsey. Somehow, I turned up half an hour early <em>again</em> and had to wait around for her, as she had a meeting. We set to work planning the Youth Conference for the morning and got a long way into it. Then I went out for lunch, and had the nicest smoothie ever. If there's a Zumo smoothie bar near you, order the Mango Tango. Sonice. Aaanyway, finished my subway lunch and headed back to the office. We then reviewed the MyPlace bid and phoned a few people until four. Then I went home.</p> <p>Tuesday 9th September (Day Seven)<br>Today, I got to the Town hall at 10, and made coffee and then went to a team meeting, where I was made a fuss out of becuase I had gotten the Hazel Blears job. Then it was more phoning people, and speculating over MyPlace, and working out a plan for the Youth Conference. Lunch followed, then more of the same. <br>I ended up getting away at around 8, due to other meetings I had to attend after work experience.</p> <p>Wednesday 10th September (Day Eight)<br>Was told to come in at 11, because of the late night I'd had yesterday. But forgot, and came in at 10 instead. Today Lyndsey and I were going to a DCSF meeting about ... well, god knows what. The meeting itself confused both of us, and only redeemed itself with good food which we scoffed.<br>While waiting for the taxi back to the Town Hall, we bumped into my mother, who had a nice conversation with Lyndsey. Rather comical, as they both have strong Belfast accents. Taxi came, and we get back to the office. A teacher from my school pays us a visit to see how I'm doing. He's an idiot. He instead tries to use it as an excuse to rant about how crap the council is. More youth conference and web design stuff. Then home.</p> <p>Thursday 11th September (Day Nine)<br>A morning of mainly coffee and gossiping. Sam from corporate comms comes in, and we three spend a while bitching about the local guardian. Then Mark, Lyndsey's boss, buys us lunch at the, surprisingly posh, YMCA cafe across the road. Then I head off to a meeting with the new Children's Commissioner (that's work off my own back, btw) and witness the joys of Britians secondary schools (where she's deputy head). We have a detailed meeting about her proposal for a young people's media campaign, and other things. Then I race back to the Town Hall, in time to meet Lyndsey, who's been to Stansted and back to pick up her parents. We have a rushed conversation through her car window full of local government jargon. This seems to thoroughly impress her mum. Lyndsey goes home, I head back into the office to carry out the instructions I have been given. Then I go to another meeting. Then home.</p> <p>Friday 12th September (Day Ten)<br>Lyndsey is still with her parents, so isn't in. She gives me the day off.</p> <p>The END.</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://theawfultruth.blog.co.uk/2008/12/27/friday-and-the-next-week-5285379/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:theawfultruth.blog.co.uk,2008-11-13:/2008/11/13/work-experience-part-two-5031107/Sean-2008-11-13T19:59:39+01:002008-11-14T20:34:29+01:00 <p>Day Four (Thursday September 4th)<br>Usually, today would have warranted me a day off school, but I was lucky because I was already on work experience. In any normal situation, I'd have had to have submitted an absense request to school at least 48 hours previously, which wouldn't have been possible as today was the beginning of the term. Today was cool. Today was awesome. Today was something I could never have expected. But today happened.<br>The secrecy of the last post can now be thrown aside as I explain the situation. <a title="CLG" href="http://www.communities.gov.uk">Communities and Local Government</a> secretary for state, Hazel Blears recently expressed a desire to have a panel of young people to advise her directly on government policies to do with young people and communities. Naturally, when Young Advisors was given the go ahead to organise this for her, I applied! Not expecting much of it, I sent a last minute application from a hotel room in America. To my amazement, about a week after I got back, I got a email saying that I'd been invited back to a selection day at the CLG headquarters in Victoria. To say I was pleased would be an understatement.<br>So, today is all about my lil interview.<br>The day started at 11am, in Victoria, Central London, I woke up at 9am. So, all good so far. 2 hours to race into London. I eat a healthy breakfast of Coco Pops and coffee, wash, dress and get walking. 15 minutes later I arrive at Chingford train station, still moping about my lack of a bike. I decide to act all adult and I buy a coffee and newspaper and get on my train. I instantly regret my choice of carriage, as a school load of kids gets on before the train leaves. I casually get up and wander through to the next carriage. A few minutes later, the women who was previously sitting opposite me does the same thing; we exchange a knowing smile. At Walthamstow Central I jump off the train and run down the stairs and through the ticket barriers and down the escalators in true London style. I find a Victoria line train (not hard, as I had a choice of two platforms) and board it. I'm so very tired. I begin to nod off, and I spend the remainder of the journey in a state that's somewhere between sleep and passive awareness, only being disturbed as some crazy man gets on at Islington, and again at Oxford Circus as said crazy man gets off. <br>My first mistake at Victoria was leaving via the wrong exit. I knew vaguely where Bressenden Place is, but I had no idea I had left from the wrong exit. So after 5 minutes of fruitless wondering, I walk back through the station and find the right exit. As I step out onto the pavement, the following exchange occurs:<br>Man from free water company: "Hey, you! Want some?"<br>Me: "Huh, wha, me?"<br>Him: "Uh, yeah"<br>Me: "Is it free?"<br>Him: "Sure" *throws bottle at me*.<br>At this point, my brain suddenly decides to wake up, and I execute a skillful twist and catch. In my haste to look good, I promptly trip down the curb, but rescue myself before humiliation occurs. I confidently strole out in front of a No. 8 bus, thinking that it would stand to logic for the driver to slow down. But who am I to question the logic of TfL staff!? After escaping said bus, I scamper up a back road that emerges opposite the CLG building (that doesn't look at all governmenty). I walk in, and am instantly surprised. The entire affair looks more like a giant modern hotel reception, with a huge long front desk staffed by receptionists, and lots of seating areas with computers and tables. To be honest, I was confused. Very confused. I wander aimlessly like a lost lamb to the reception desk and mutter something containing the phrases "Hazel Blears", "Advisory panel" and "Young advisors interview". She seemed to comphrehend, and gave me a security tag with my name and purpose on it. <br>I locate a few fellow Young Advisors sitting in a row of seating a little way away - they're mainly recognisable by being the only young people in any given corporate establishment. I walk over and join them, smiling, introduce myself, find Danni - Southern Region Development Officer and she introduces me properly etc.<br>After what feels like an eternity, we are finally greeted by Stuart, who is one of the officers in charge of the day. He leads us through security barriers that looked so much like London underground ticket barriers that I instinctively pulled my Oyster card out, before realising it wouldn't work here. We then shot up to the 6th floor and walked through some office full of bored looking people then into a meeting room with a view right across the indoor atrium of the building. (CLG has a floor to roof - 8 floors - atrium area in the centre of the building, it is amazing) We helped ourselves to the free drinks and food, and got to know each other as we waited for other interviewees to arrive, and then we began.<br>We all knew Jane, Danni, Ste and Gary as they all work for the national charity, but we were introduced to Anna, Carol and Stuart who are the people directly managing the panel. We started with a debating exercise, which was fun, and where I argued the point for not having compulsory education until 18. I was proud of my points! Then we did an exercise where we presented a mock up proposal to build new youth facilities. I worked with fellow London YA, Jacquiline, and we kicked some serious arse.<br>Our last exercise was the most fun. We were each given a random object and 2 minutes to prepare a presentation on it. We then presented to the rest of the group about our object. Statements such as "This... this is a book!" and "It should be burnt" should basically sum up the randomness of this exercise, but nevertheless it was hilarious.<br>Then came lunch. Lunch was something that I could never have envisaged. Ever. We were escorted back down to ground level, expecting to be dragged through some drab canteen serving sloppy pizza and rubbery sausages. But no! It seems that central government employees eat in style! A full size restaurant, with chefs with white hats, and different counters for different food, where you could watch it being cooked in front of you... It was amazing! And, for us, it was free! We found a table to sit at, and were joined by a lovely man who'd just started his job, and was evidently scared to sit with the millions of adults around. We talked to him about why we were there, and who we were, and apparently impressed, he told us of his life as a maths teacher in a north London school. He was a nice guy, and we parted company promising to speak again (maybe we will!). <br>Anyway, while we ate, a rather sinister discussion had been in progress between CLG and YA staff, deciding who was to make it onto the panel. We all traipsed back upstairs, suspense and fear in the atmosphere around us. The problem with this interview was that it was bound to be humiliating for those that didn't get the job. They would be requested to leave the room while the successful applicants continued the day. Fortunately for us, Carol didn't beat around the bush. She read out 8 names - none of them mine, and then a slight pause, I feel myself go taught, waiting for the disappointment. But it never came, she breathed out again and finished her sentence: "and Sean!". I'm like "Whut!? Yay!". <br>So that was it. We exchanged email addresses and said goodbye to those who hadn't made it. I still couldn't believe I'd done it!<br>We were then set to work reading through some key information before Hazel arrived to decide who to choose as the advisors. <br>Eventually, she arrived, and it's funny how people always seem shorter in real life. She's tiny, and has a crunching handshake that hurts if you're not prepared. She sat down, and then we all had a chance to talk about why we were there, and why we wanted to do this. 5 minutes to sum up 4 years of my life seems pretty short, but I managed, all the time very self concious. She then went away for a while to decide, and we were given some forms and things to fill in. After a quick congratulatory speech from Jane, she came back and chose. This time I knew I pretty much wouldn't get it - being the youngest there by at least 3 years was probably a factor in this, and also because I knew my speech hadn't been all that persuasive - I mean, the girl next to me broke down in tears during hers!<br>As predicted, it wasn't me. Rory and Jacquiline were chosen as the two youth advisors for a year, who would then convene the panel (us), hold meetings with Hazel, and generally get all the publicity (something I thought was a rather stunted idea). Our job was to support Rory and Jacqui, obtain information, research, generally be critical and a few other things. Still though, I was pleased. How many other 15 year olds have managed to get there mits this far into government?</p> <p>Anyway, that done, I raced home, eager to show off. Not even bothered by the inevitable madman on the train.</p> <p>Next installment coming when I've done my coursework.</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://theawfultruth.blog.co.uk/2008/11/13/work-experience-part-two-5031107/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:theawfultruth.blog.co.uk,2008-09-27:/2008/09/27/work-experience-4787098/Sean-2008-09-27T12:08:33+02:002008-10-01T19:17:42+02:00 <p>Title says it all really.<br>I guess to understand this, you'll need some background information. I work for a national franchise charity called <a href="www.youngadvisors.org.uk">Young Advisors</a>. <br>Young Advisors trains and qualifies young people to practice as Regeneration and Renewal Consultants. Young Advisors has roughly 32 schemes running nationally, encompassing around 400 young people. These schemes are usually hosted by Local Authorities, Connexions agencies, or New Deals for Communities (NDC) schemes. The branch that I work for is hosted by <a href="www.walthamforest.gov.uk">the London Borough of Waltham Forest</a>, hence <a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/admin/www.wfyoungadvisors.org.uk">Waltham Forest Young Advisors</a>.<br>Anyway, my school uses Edexcels excuse for a work experience manager "Trident". They're terrible, so I decided to find a private work experience placement. Namely, to continue with my already very interesting job as a Young Advisor. So it begins:</p> <p>Day One ( Monday September 1st)<br>Today, I woke up at 8:40, and rolled out of bed, crawled to the sink, washed, dressed and coffee'd myself. My two weeks of work experience were to be based around the timescale of 10am - 4pm. Deciding that remaining in the house would only stress me out, I decided to step out into the warm September morning, dressed in a shirt and jeans. It was lovely. I stroll down to my bus stop, and have a nice conversation with a lovely old lady who used to Foster for the borough. She seemed pretty interested in what I did, but I bade her farewell as my bus pulled up. I hopped onto the 97 and away I was whisked. Changing busses at The Mount, I waited for a 158, and once again, away I went. This bus was running on rockets this morning. I turned up at Silverbirch house almost half an hour early, much to the surprise of Lisa (Lisa is one of the awesomest people in the world), who was to supervise me for the first week. After a quick tour of the office, and a cup of coffee, I set to work on a bid that Waltham Forest Young Advisors were making. The Myplace Fund, provided by the <a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/admin/www.dcsf.gov.uk">Dept for Children, Schools and Families</a> is a pot of money totalling around £190 million that's available for the building of State-Of-The-Art youth facilities. Everyone in Lisa's office are really really nice. I felt involved in conversations and was offered tea or coffee many a time. Everyone was also congratulating me and wishing me luck on for an interview I'd been shortlisted for. More about that in a bit. Soon it was lunch, and Lisa and I went to a nice cafe down the road, where she insisted on paying for me. <br>After lunch, I finished the first draft of the preliminary bid, and sent it to our group manager to review it. Then I started planning a Youth Conference. It was four o clock before long, and I said my goodbyes and headed home. Narrowly avoiding an oncoming Ambulance.</p> <p>Day Two (Tuesday September 2nd)<br>Rolled out of bed at around 9, and did my morning act. Then, 97, 158 Office. We had a team meeting in the morning, which wasn't as boring as I thought it'd be. I continued revising the Myplace bid, until Suzzane, our manager met with Lisa and i to discuss it. Following this, I did some work on the <a href="www.forestflava.org.uk">Forest Flava</a> website. Then lunch at a closer cafe, where Lisa once again insisted on paying. I saw a few collegues from other teams in the council in the cafe (it gets a lot of use becuase it's so close to the office building) and had a few discussions about things. Back to the office, more planning, laughing, spying (we were phoning youth centres in diferent boroughs to see what sort of facilities they had. I was pretending to be a young person looking for something to do). I left at around 4:10.</p> <p>Day Three (Wednesday September 3rd)<br>Lisa and myself were invited to attend a feedback event for an inspection that was carried out in the borough back in June by young inspectors from the GLA (Greater London Authority). So, today I was up at the unholy hour of 8am. Morning ritual took about half an hour, and then I cycle up to Chingford Station, and board the train on Platform 2. After all, this is the logical thing to do, because the sign says "08:33   Liverpool St Station, Platform 2". This logic is soon blown away, as all of my fellow commuters suddenly get up and walk off the train. I realise it's probably best to follow suite, so I too, get up and follow them. We walk all the way back down to the station end of the platform, around the train tracks, then all the way back up on Platform 1, where I am pleased to see there is a lovely new National Express East Anglia train waiting for us, instead of the crusty old "one" trains that normally frequent my line. Upon arriving at Liverpool Street, I join the hoards of commuters galloping down the escalators to the Central line (it's the red one on the map, for all of you forest-dwellers out there). I realise I'm not going to get on the first train that pulls in, so I wait for the next one. Three minutes later, it screeches to a halt, and I begin to dislocate various joints in order to increase the chances of somehow managing to fit myself into it. One stop later, I hop out at Bank, nearly flattening some poor old lady against a wall, and race down the platform to the interchange tunnel. I then balance my way along the edge of the Nothern line platform, hoping some Japanese national equipped with a Fujifilm camera doesn't swing around and start snapping photos of trains and accidentally push me onto the tracks. Train pulls up, and I hop on. Thankful that trains going south never seem to be so packed. One stop later, I step into London Bridge station, and race around the tunnels until I find a Jubilee line platform. Fortunately, there's no risk of being manslaughtered by Japanese people this time, as the lovely perspex barrier shields me from the big bad track. Jubilee line train comes, I hop on. I always find it funny how they sound like spaceships when they accelerate. Get off at Bermondsey and realise I'm 20 minutes early. <br>25 minutes later I see Lisa, and we head of, armed with a map, looking for the "Salmon Youth Centre". Who'd name a youth centre after a fish!?<br>We found this place eventually, after becoming increasingly worried about the number of little dark backroads we were walking down. The first thing we noticed about this place was the climbing wall up the side of the building. Upon entry, we became rather more aware that this place was a serious competitor to our proposed Myplace bid. We went upstairs to register and get our name badges, or at least most people did. They forgot about me, so I drew my own name badge! After all the trouble it had taken to get to this place, I was rather dissappointed as to the actual content of this meeting. It was pretty boring. We all said how we thought the inspections had been, and, as at most meetings, someone got really excited and started dragging us all along the idea that the project should be given more funding (and training, imo), and be carried out nationally and whatnot. <br>I nodded along, by this time half asleep, only awake because of the sheer amount of coffee I drank before we started. Eventually we finished, and were all fed some nice free food that made up for the mundanity (is that a word?) of the meeting. I was then given the rest of the day off, and so was rather chuffed. <br>After an afternoon out with my girlfriend, I got back to Chingford station and looked at where I'd locked my bike up. <br>"Hmm, I swear that bike is where my bike was..."<br>"What's that red thing on the floor? Oh, it's a bike lock... Wait, shit, it's MY bike lock! Why's it cut in half!?"<br>"Shit, where's my bike!?"</p> <p>I walked home. Fuming.<br>The bike itself was probably only worth £20, as it was bought for £60 2 years ago. It's not the value, but the inconvenience that annoyed me. <br>Anyway, Days 4 and 5 coming up in the next installment, because if I write this post all the way through til Day 14, you won't get it until December.</p> <p>Seany out,<br>xx</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://theawfultruth.blog.co.uk/2008/09/27/work-experience-4787098/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:theawfultruth.blog.co.uk,2008-09-26:/2008/09/26/here-comes-the-rain-again-4785367/Sean-2008-09-26T22:32:13+02:002008-09-26T22:32:13+02:00 <p>Wake me up, when September ends ...</p> <p>Well, actually don't. I'd like May, or June, please =]<br>I promised a post about work experience, and thus you shall have a post about work experience, but only after this:<br>I hate Year 11 <img src="/img/smilies/icon_sad.gif" alt=":(" class="middle" border="0"> Too much to do, and it's not even the schoolwork, it's the combination of school work and my job, which seems to have gotten even more hectic. Anyway, apart from that, I had a strange moment the other night. I was reading through a blog, a very very good one, at that, written by a guy who works for the London Ambulance Service, as a call taker/dispatcher. This guy, was the person who took the very first call back on the 7th of July, 2005, when 4 bombs exploded on the London transport network, killing a total of 56 people, and injuring around 700. Having read this blog post, and been suitably touched by it, I went link-surfing, and stumlbed across a wikipedia article about the bombings. Right at the bottom of this article, was a list of all 52 victims, and a short description of where they were going, and what they had just done. Within minutes, I found I was crying. That's not something that happens to me very often. Normally I can seperate myself from emotion, especially when it concerns something that didn't really affect me, and chirst, it was over 3 years ago... but seeing the names, and the little bit after them such as "she had just called her parents to tell them she was okay, after being evacuated from Kings Cross station, when she boarded the number 30 bus..." seemed to add a human value to everything. It was .. moving, to say the least. As for that blog, <a href="http://www.neenaw.co.uk">www.neenaw.co.uk</a>, really funny guy (who I have worked out must live quite near me), really well written, give it a read when you get bored of me!<br>Secondly, last weekend, a bunch of do-gooders decided to go on an Anti-Knife march through London. (http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/london/7620719.stm) All very well, but, excuse me, what exactly is that going to achieve? To be honest, I can vaguely understand, and forgive, having my transport network messed up for a day (Almost all of the Central London bus routes were diverted or cancelled) if it's actually going to achieve something. But, reality check<br>1) We're all very very aware of the 27 teenage murders in London this year, and we all know knifes and guns are dangerous, we don't need you to tell us<br>2) The government aren't exactly going to do much, are they? D'you expect Gordon Brown to start marching around South London confiscating knifes? The police have already tried countless knife amnesty's, but guess what? THEY DON'T WORK. It's only ever the people who are little or no danger, who hand in their (inevitable) butter knife, or surrender their bread knife. Even if people were handing in possible weapons, it's doesn't make a difference! If people need a knife, but, Oh no, they handed theirs in, they will simply delve into their kitchen draw, and take one!<br>3)If you want a nice chat about knifes, and about how your son/daughter/dog/cat was a "good person" and "wouldn't harm a fly" then sure, go for it, but you don't need to march to it with signs saying "Down with knifes!" and chants like "What do we want?" "No more knifes" "When do we want it?" "NOW!". </p> <p>It was possibly the most ill thought out march I've ever seen. And I am annoyed. People can be so ignorant sometimes, it frustrates me.</p> <p>Anyway, tomorrow I shall continue with my work experience anecdotes, so tata for now. <br>Seany out. xx </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://theawfultruth.blog.co.uk/2008/09/26/here-comes-the-rain-again-4785367/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:theawfultruth.blog.co.uk,2008-08-28:/2008/08/28/california-dreamin-4649852/Sean-2008-08-28T17:42:05+02:002008-10-01T18:16:52+02:00 <p>Wow, I have the blogposting consistancy of George Bushs' foreign policy. I should also really stop with the crap political jokes <img src="/img/smilies/graybigrazz.gif" alt=":P" class="middle" border="0"> Anyway, while on the subject of the Bush, let's hope the Russians don't invade Poland and turn the missiles around.<br> American government makes me laugh. As does the rest of America. Having spent 15 days in the South West (California, Arizona, Utah and Nevada), I think I am perfectly qualified to make such judgements. Said holiday was a nightmare. Our flight from Heathrow was delayed because the flight before us, to New York was late arriving because of turbulance over Manchester (this probably means that the flight strayed over East Manchester and caught a few stray bullets in the wing), and a plane aborted take-off thus delaying us by an hour...<br> Anyway, about halfway over Greenland, my mp3 battery runs out, so I'm left with a book, and a few in flight films. Luckily for us, we were upgraded to World Traveller Plus, because BA oversold the flight, so at least I had some space to breath. Our pilot was very chatty as well, which was nice, compared to the normal dryness of it all. Landed at LAX, and the first thing I thought was "Wow, what a shithole". Seriously, LAX terminal 4 is not a good introduction to California. Then spent a while going through two security gates and passport control, and waiting for our hotel shuttle bus. They use such weird busses, dammit. They all look like they have the fuel economy of a hummer, and are from the 1950s. Our first hotel was pretty big, unfortunately it seemed more quantity than quality. It wasn't bad though - I've seen worse. We met our tourguide from ati (AmericanTours International) who immediately displayed the sheer ineptness of her company by looking at the single supplement voucher we had and going "whoops". She then went and haggled another room from the front desk. This problem will return later.<br> One thing about America that I do like, is the amount of free WiFi. The first few days went swimmingly. Free WiFi at the Hacienda, nice day trip to San Diego, decent food, more free WiFi, awesome tourbus driver (who has yet to email me ...), and breakfasts in America.. they are orgasmic. The next hotel was absolutely amazing. It was a resort, in the middle of the desert. I mean that quite literally. About 20 miles north of Pheonix, sweltering hot, nothing for miles, but amazing. There were huge cactuses that looked like erections! Our rooms were awesome! Comfiest bed ever. And we had evening entertainment from Pioneer Pepper and the Sunset Pioneers (google if you want to know more), who, while really not very funny, weren't bad singers, this was along with an all you can eat buffet, which wasn't gourmet, but was damn close.<br> Unfortunately, things were obviously going too well for me, because the next day I managed to lose my phone in Sedona. Brand new phone. Silver Nokia N95. For those who don't know me, my phone is my life, it means everything to me. (If any Sedonians are reading, do tell if you find my phone, I'd like it back =]) As if that wasn't enough, upon arrival at the hotel in Grand Canyon, our tour leader couldn't get another room for us, so I had to put up with my sister trying to console me about my phone, shouting for no reason, and being generally annoying. Next morning, just to add even more fatal injury to already rather nasty would, my laptop died. Vista deleted itself, and packard bell recovery deleted the entire contents of the hard drive.<br> Grand Canyon helicopter ride was okay, I was expecting better, to be honest, though. We did a selection of tours and stuff over the next two days, (the next two hotels weren't able to let us have another room either, so three nights with an annoying sibling was not doing much for my already sour mood). It didn't help that we were up at 6am every morning, so my entire family was getting rather ratty. So naturally, they took it out on me. I won't go into details, but put it like this: I can normally accept being told off for things I've done wrong, and am quite mature about it, but this was just plain out of order.<br> Vegas was hot. And Circus Circus hotel was okay, until we saw the rooms, which weren't. For such an impressive hotel, the rooms were rather lame. But let's forget that trivial matter. As with most hotels in Vegas, the inevitable casino is the real money maker, the casinos in which anyone under 21 mustn't stand still for more than 10 seconds, nor must they walk past the slot machines or games tables, etc. It's pathetic. So, if a kid stands still for more than 10 seconds, they become addicted to gambling and will immediately run off and waste their life savings on the nearest slot machine? Or, if I go anywhere near a game of poker, I'll instantly join in (in which case, I'm sure the dealers would be more than able to get rid of me) because it looks so FUN!? No! Nevada state law is pathetic!<br> We did a raft ride down the colorado river the next day, which was very awesome. We had a really good captain. Really fun guy, and really into throwing water at us. Got pretty wet, but dried almost instantly in the 40/45 degree heat. After we'd gotten back to the hotel, we spent the evening in the largest indoor adventure theme park in the US. Which was conveniently attached to our hotel. Was pretty fun, not enthralling, but some of the rides were half decent.<br> Then we left for Death Valley, and the California border. Death Valley = hot.<br> Yosemite national park = boring.<br> We stayed in a little ski resort in the Sierra Nevada, which wasn't bad, had a good steak and argument for dinner, and then went to the hotel bar with some of the more awesome members of our tourgroup for a drink. Including Bruce. Most hilarious Aussie guy ever. He just sat there mercilessly taking the piss out of our tourguide (who was infact Swiss and not american, and should learn English properly before trying to do tours for english speakers in an english speaking country - his words, not mine.).<br> San Fransico was full of wierdos,fog and a holiday inn in the roughest part of town. We were actually warned not to walk down a certain street. Seriously, random people would just stand there in the middle of the street all day screaming "OHJAARRGHOOOOUUUAAAAAAAEERRGGGHHH" at the top of their voices. One cripple in a wheelchair chased me down the road wanting anal sex, and a tramp swore at my sister, for which I kicked him.<br> But we did have the nicest chinese food in chinatown, and the entire bus was singing folksongs during the night tour, much to the surprise/amusement/shock of Yvonne, our guide.<br> Next day we went to see some big trees. Redwoods. In Muir woods. *yawn*. Really not all that enthralling, to be honest. Then spent the afternoon wondering around the city and avoiding weirdos.<br> We continued down the west coast road (highway one) towards Los Angeles via Carmel, and an overnight stop at Pismo beach, where we got free drinks, computer room and breakfast. I milked the computer room for as much time as I could get, having to rely on crusty hotel computers is somewhat like waiting for a bus, you never know when one will turn up, and if you'll have to pay or not. So I was doing all I could <img src="/img/smilies/graybigrazz.gif" alt=":P" class="middle" border="0"><br> Got to LA the next day, saw hollywood, and beverly hills, and was somewhat unimpressed.<br> Very unimpressed actually. Hollywood's really lost its glamour, it's dirty, and overrun with tourists, and fakes trying to cash in on the stupidity of tourists. Beverly Hills: my reaction was "Well, wow, aren't you all pretentious pricks. Enjoy your earthquakes". Celebrities really don't excite me, I'm afraid.<br> Went back to the Hacienda, saw a few low flying aircraft going into LAX (these were just about the most interesting thing Yvonne was able to point out on the way to the hotel, rather says something about LA..). Had food at a seafood/steak restaurant in Santa Monica, which really wasn't particularly tasty. Went back to the hotel, my room smelt of cabbage, and slept.<br> Woke up, got the Hacienda shuttle to the shopping mall after a lovely bacon waffle, and then got an ocean express bus from the shopping mall to the beach. Funny thing was, this ocean express bus actually went back past our hotel. Once again, I blame Yvonne for bad instructions. Saw the beach, marvelled at a beach party full of hot girls, had a coke, decided that we'd seen enough water and sand, so went back to the hotel and did nothing until we had to leave for the airport.<br> The departures area at LAX T4 is no more impressive than the arrivals area. There are a total of 6 restaurants, 3 shops, and two sets of <em>restrooms</em>. None of them Airside.<br> Once you go through the security gate, there are about 3 vending machines. That is all.<br> Plane delayed by 35 minutes, so I sit and look out of the window, watching the baggage handlers playing around on their little quadbike things. They were chasing each other.<br> Got on plane, took off, read, watched some good films (thankyou BA) and then we suddenly dipped 2000 feet and did lots of shaking around. Sister started crying, and going "We're gonna die!" which only upset the kids in front who set off crying, thus worrying the adults, and the chain reaction began. Whole plane screaming and shouting, me sitting there smiling, and the pilot going "alright, alright! don't get your knickers in a twist! It was just Martin here doing a fart". Funny guy. In reality, it was just a bit of nasty turbulance over Mount Rushmore.<br> Rest of the flight was really rather uneventful, apart from the disgusting food (I blame the fact that it was loaded in America). T5 at Heathrow really puts LAX to shame, and I was glad to be home, even if our taxi was 35 minutes late, and didn't seem to know his way around London, as he managed to get us into just about every traffic jam concievably possible along the route.<br> Anyway, tl;dr Not an impressive holiday, lost phone, dead laptop.<br> Will do a post or two about work experience, but for now, Seany out.<br> xx </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://theawfultruth.blog.co.uk/2008/08/28/california-dreamin-4649852/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:theawfultruth.blog.co.uk,2008-06-24:/2008/06/24/i-m-seeing-sheep-4358784/Sean-2008-06-24T21:58:36+02:002008-06-24T21:58:36+02:00 <p>Hi internet!<br>I do apologise for the lack of "Sean"ness recently. My blogskillz have been required elsewhere, namely the blog for work.  Anyways, this post will have to be another ranty one, I'm afraid. Alternatively, ITV are inevitably screening some mindrape right now, if you want to go and watch that instead =]<br>Apart from the fact that I've been busy elsewhere on t'interwebs, I've also been away quite a bit recently. Firstly to Snowdonia for a geography field trip, and then on my D of E bronze expedition, last weekend. <br>Snowdonia was ... urgh. For want of a better word. The food was actually comparable to the shit they inevitably serve in US Federal prisons, we weren't allowed to go into any shops (when we happened to stumble across them. A remarkable fete as it is because the ratio of sheep to shops is something like 15000:1), I got SUNBURNT in WALES, I sat on a beach for two hours measuring rocks (I kid ye not), there was virtually no mobile signal and the only computer (about 10 years old) with internet access broke after 2 days.<br>Doctor Lear tried his ninja skills on us on the last night. He crept into our room, under the impression that we were asleep, then crouched in the darkness behind a bed. He got a lovely surprised when I casually asked "Whassup Doc!?". He jumped up in surprise and turned the light on. Never have I seen that guy look more embarressed in all my time at Davenant. <br>So, snowdonia = not cool.<br>D of E - better. The (boil in the bag) food was 20 times better than that of Rhyd-y-Creoue field centre, there was plenty of phone signal (thanks to the lovely mast on the hillside opposite), and I had a grim sense of satisfaction in that I got my walking group to come second, despite the pouring rain. <br>One clever girl managed to set fire to the grass on the campsite (the campsite manager happened to see this, and got very butthurt, and now wants a letter of apology - His poor poor innocent grass...), and who would build a campsite next to one of the busiest railway lines in the North of England? Every five minutes we'd get woken up by a passing <em>Northern</em> service between Manchester and Sheffield (who needs a two carriage train!? So pointless!) that sounded more like a car with an ancient engine, or, if we were lucky, we'd get a 3 carriage <em>Transpennine Express</em> which was obviously lost, because, to my knowledge, the Pennines start a fair few miles north of where we were. It was either that, or a 24 carriage freight train that came twice a day, and seemed to go on for ever and ever and ever and ever .... and ever.  Anyway, 19 miles in total - I am proud.<br>Angst below is marginally less pressing now. Not because it's gone - it hasn't - but because it's all just numb. It probably helps that I've had other things to concentrate on, like other peoples problems, and a fucktonne of schoolwork. I do apologise most sincerely for it.<br>What else..?<br>Oh, those people (you know who you are) who're upset and need a cuddle, right now - just remember, there's always a tiny tiny tiny speck of hope. <em>Always.<br></em>What's more, those of you who are anybody, will have my mobile number, and seriously, anytime, anywhere, text/call whatever, I don't care, I'm always here. ... credit permitting xD<br>Bai nao. <br>Seany Out.</p> <p>xx </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://theawfultruth.blog.co.uk/2008/06/24/i-m-seeing-sheep-4358784/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:theawfultruth.blog.co.uk,2008-05-19:/2008/05/19/i-need-an-livejournal-seriously-4195794/Sean-2008-05-19T22:13:16+02:002008-05-19T22:16:18+02:00 <p>I'm going to give all the arrogant, government-bashing, conservative-voting, crap a rest for this post. Simply because I need this little white box for a different purpose. I'm going to rant and rave about my live, because apparently it makes things better when complete strangers can read about your personal life. Yay. 4chan are firing up the paedocannons, I expect.<br> March = Epic win/Epic Fail.<br> I'm not entirely sure what the fuck March actually was. I've told about 4 people exactly why I'm so 'angsty' (for want of a better word) of late. I prefer to keep it that way, so I'll kindof gloss over this a bit. I haven't seen my two littlest sisters since August, since my stepdad decided to disappear with them. You know what? That's just rude. I miss them. March saw me being told some shitty news that I'm not entirely sure what to make of. I'm not even sure I beleive it.<br> Said piece of news led to complete communication breakdown for a week, and (now ex)girlfriend thinking I was ignoring her because I said I hadn't realised how long it had been since we'd spoken... We .. resolved... it, I never told her exactly <em>why</em> I hadn't been speaking to her. I regret that now. I still don't think I can, though.<br> Then school started getting ratty, and just generally an inconvenience.<br> "You haven't done this..", "you need to do this", coupled with "why haven't you done this?" and a sudden discovery of sarcasm by my foster parents, I was (am) just sick of everything.<br> You set 4 pieces of maths homework in as many days, what the fuck do you expect?<br> I'd learn more in English if there was a fucking lemon sitting on the front desk, than you're insane ramblings, and pseudo-witty commentry on everything I fucking do!<br> And, for fuck sake, that man CAN NOT TEACH GEOGRAPHY. How the fuck do you expect a class to learn when you spend 47 minutes of an hour long lesson (yes, I counted) ranting and raving about respect, and about how Jakes behaviour "stinks". I don't think Jakes behaviour smells very much... in fact, it's contextually impossible ... LEARN ENGLISH BEFORE TEACHING KIDS ABOUT ROCKS, YOU FUCKING PILLOCK.<br> And please, how the fuck can you justify sending someone out of a classroom for putting their hand up!?</p> <p>Oh, and note how I didn't use any teachers names their. There will be no facebook stalking here. </p> <p>Moving on.<br> April.<br> Friday 11th, to be precise.</p> <p>I get led half way across London by bus, then cried on and dumped. Then invited 'round to watch DeathNote ... eh!?<br> (Sorry, if you're reading this, but try seeing it from my perspective...)<br> Talk about timing, as well... not that she knew.</p> <p>Anyway, for the first time in years, I've been wondering what the fuck is the point anymore. Vague consolations from friends (in fact, I tell a lie. Everyone's been fucking wonderful, and I'll never forget it) help a bit, I guess. But this last two months have been the most desperate for a long time. Yet, I still parade this happy facade at school, and at work. Becuase about 95% of people at my school are complete wankers anyway, and at work, I'm a proffesional, right? Not some angsty teen with personality issues.</p> <p>If you've got this far, I congratulate you. </p> <p>I'm going to sleep now. .I might wake up. I'd rather I didn't. But, I'm British. I carry on, right? </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://theawfultruth.blog.co.uk/2008/05/19/i-need-an-livejournal-seriously-4195794/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:theawfultruth.blog.co.uk,2008-04-05:/2008/04/05/dedication-madness-you-decide-4000093/Sean-2008-04-05T19:23:55+02:002008-04-05T19:23:55+02:00 <p>Hello dear crawlers of the interwebs!<br> It's about time I gave you something long and boring to read, so here it is.</p> <p>For the last week or so, I've been up 'til around 2am day. Why?<br> Because I'm a nutcase.<br> No, really.<br> Who else would deprive themselves of that much sleep, to do work they weren't even being paid to do? (if you answer "me!" to that question (Marianne), then you can join my small and exlusive club)<br> Last Sunday I had nothing to do. I was sitting there at the breakfast bar, dead bored. The previous night, I'd been skating around the interwebs looking for free hosting and domain names - more out of curiousity than anything. Upon mentioning this to a friend, albeit, a friend with lots of webspace, he offered me hosting if I ever needed it. I then found a free domain name.<br> Anyway, back to Monday morning. Munching away at my bowl of Wheetos I suddenly though "I know... I could make that website for work that everyone suggested, but no-one did!". And so, the saga begins.</p> <p>Day 1</p> <p>I hastily dash to my laptop, grab my phone, a cup of coffee and some food, before settling at my desk. Ready. Vista takes an age to load, as if teasing me. I log on to msn and, to my releif, my friend is online. The conversation goes something like this:</p> <p>Me: Hello Josh =]<br> Josh: Oh, hi!<br> Me: Remember you were offering me webspace ...<br> Josh: Yeah sure =]<br> Me: Iloveyou.</p> <p>So, I dive into dreamweaver, before realising "hang on ... I need a background image first"<br> So, I dive into paint, before realising "Hang on ... I'm in <i>paint</i>. Bad!"<br> So, I dive into a better photo editor and start beavering away at a banner type background image. Back into dreamweaver, and I discover the cool flash buttons. In they go. I upload the logo, pester my friend for the details for his FTP server, and I'm away - the first page is up! (time not to scale)<br> By now, it's lunchtime. I eat.<br> I repeat the same process another 5 times throughout the day, constantly updating the other pages as well, as I make them look better.<br> Bed - 2:18am</p> <p>Day 2</p> <p> I'm straight onto my laptop. Josh offers a bit of help, becuase I don't know how to use css stylesheets. Josh sorts the css out for me. Wow. It all looks so much better!<br> Today, I continue editing pages to make them look good, and upload another page.<br> Bed - 1:08am</p> <p>Day 3</p> <p>Monday morning sees me waking up at about 1pm. I eat lunch, and get to work. (note, I am still wearing my PJs)<br> Today I realise that I've only been testing the website on my laptop, in firefox. So, today, I hastily open up IE7 on my laptop and log on to the main PC. To my horror, IE7 and big screens appear to mess things up. So, today is full of making thigs compatible with different screens and browsers. I email my team lead, saying something along the lines of<br> "Hey, Lynds! I'm making a website for us! It works, kind of. See you tomorrow".<br> To which, she phoned me back ... and asked for someones phone number.<br> Bed - 10:45</p> <p>Day 4</p> <p>Shopping with family for most of today. I get home at 3:45, grab my laptop and head straight back out again. To the town hall for our monthly team meeting.<br> I show everyone the website, they love it! (I am muchos pleased!) Ideas arise about getting a blog put in, and getting a proper domain name.<br> I go home, and perfect it a bit more.<br> Bed - 12:39</p> <p>Day 5</p> <p>Today, I'm off paintballing with a few friends. We loose. Dismally. But it was fun.<br> Get home at about 5:45 ish. Eat.<br> On computer, get hold of Josh and pester him about a blog. He complies. Quickly set up the blog, run by wordpress, and make some sneaky edits to the default coding for it, so that it looks more like part of the main site. Upload new copies of everything, with the link to the blog. A bit more tweaking.<br> Bed - 2:13</p> <p>Day 6</p> <p>I wake up, an hour before I'm meant to be at the other end of the borough for work.<br> I rush out of the house, before realising that the rough school down the road aren't on half term. So I take a detour, to avoid the hoards of kids going to school, to the bus stop.<br> Spend 49 minutes on a bus crawling through the borough (frankly, I could be walking faster).<br> Best friend texts me, she's away in West Sussex with my girlfriend. Spend the journey texting her. Get to work, dash down the corridor, emerge into a big conference room. They're running late. I'm fine. I train some foster carers, eat, train some more foster carers, then get in a cab with some collegues and go back to the office, where I bump into my sister who is being trained to do something. Get paid, and get on the considerably faster bus home.<br> On to the computer. Decide to fiddle around with Google apps to give everyone "name@domain.co.nr" email addresses. Realise I can't do this with free domains. Sit there looking dejected. Discuss with Josh. Out of blue, he goes, "I'll buy a proper domain name now and you can use that!".<br> Me: "O.o You'd do that!?"<br> Josh "Yeah, sure"<br> Me: "How much do I owe you?"<br> Josh "£5:18"<br> Me: "Make it £40"<br> Josh: "Whaa?"<br> Me: "That's for hosting, domain, and an unprecidented amount of help"<br> Josh: "You really don't need to"<br> Me: "Yes, yes I do."<br> Josh: "Mmmkay then. lovoo"</p> <p>Set up proper email addresses for everyone, note down passwords, then use the same passwords to create individual accounts on the blog (so everyone can update it). Compile all information into a spreadsheet, attach to an email, and send to all my YA collegues. At 3:12am.<br> Bed - 3:23am</p> <p>Day 6</p> <p>Today, I get woken up by screaming kids. I yawn and drag myself out of my bed. Miss breakfast.<br> Make some last fixes, and make sure everything works, in all the browsers, on all the screens.</p> <p>IT DOES.<br> Finished. 4pm.</p> <p>and now .... I give you ...</p> <p><a href="http://www.wfyoungadvisors.org.uk">www.wfyoungadvisors.org.uk</a> </p> <p>If you're still reading, congratz.</p> <p>Bai.</p> <p>x </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://theawfultruth.blog.co.uk/2008/04/05/dedication-madness-you-decide-4000093/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:theawfultruth.blog.co.uk,2008-03-14:/2008/03/14/uhm-yeah-3878160/Sean-2008-03-14T21:51:38+01:002008-03-14T21:51:38+01:00 <p>Well, in all honesty, I have nothing really to blog about. But, uh, I'm going to anyway as I realise I have neglected my poor pretty blog. You can blame a friend from work for this - she started blogging again, and I felt I should probably register the fact that I <em>can</em> still type in a vaguely coherant manner.<br> Basically, I have a cold at the moment, so I'm a little bunged up/runny depending on what my biological makeup feels like. But, I'm fairly content xD Some good news at work - insofar as things are actually working again, thanks to a team lead who is actually competant and suited to the job. On top of that (despite my school being generally full of complete idiots) my social life has continued on its upward trend (y'know, the one that started back down there \/ somewhere, in december?) with my nice set of friends.<br> In yet more news, (as you might've realised from my other blog) our battle against the oppresion that is Scientology is going well. We have another protest tomorrow. (Queen Victoria Street, Blackfriars, 11am, 15th March).</p> <p>Those of you who know me, will know about my various jobs in and around my borough, and you'll probably also know of my bragging about getting Wednesday off school to host a CHALLENGE event. But yeah, days off are cool. That means I get a 3 day week, as we also have Good Friday off. As a result of all of this, I'm going to be rich soon. Drinks for all!</p> <p>Oh, and once again, I'll continue my plea for blogfriendship, coz I'm a lonely child.<br> Love you all, (unless you're a 56 year old paedophile - all other ages are fine). </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://theawfultruth.blog.co.uk/2008/03/14/uhm-yeah-3878160/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:theawfultruth.blog.co.uk,2008-01-10:/2008/01/10/panorama_paedorama~3558836/Sean-2008-01-10T22:31:54+01:002008-01-10T22:31:54+01:00 <p>Monday nights programming on terrestrial TV was diabolical at best. But whoever was responsible for this needs a brick shoved up there arse.<br><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/media/photo/panoramapaedo/2268758" title="panoramapaedo"><img src="http://data3.blog.de/media/758/2268758_3ed8c7e800_s.jpeg" alt="panoramapaedo" hspace="5" vspace="5"></a></p> <p><em>Panorama: One Click From Danger </em>was broadcast much to the dismay of most of the internets younger users. The aim was to make parents more aware of the threats that there kids face on the internet. The reality was mindless scaremongering and lies.<br>For starters, Panorama seemed to promote the stereotype that young people are naive and stupid on the internet. It told parents to monitor kids online activities and move the computer. What made me laugh the most was the opening line by Jeremy Vine. "Is your child in his or her bedroom right now, on their computer? If so, this is the programme for you!". To be honest, the whole programme was perfectly lollable. They were training aging parents how the internet works, and they taught the parents what "asl" and "pos" meant. That was funny in itself.<br>They also decided to create decoy accounts under the name of Jane Brown on Myspace, Facebook and Bebo in an attempt to see how many paedophiles tried to make contact. All fair enough, apart from the fact that the person behind the Jane Brown alias obviously didn't have a clue about teenagers. <a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/programmes/panorama/7174814.stm"><a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/programmes/panorama/7174814.stm">http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/programmes/panorama/7174814.stm</a></a><br>That should show you what I mean. 14 year old girls are really not that frightened by the prospect of sex. <br>Panorama, basically mislead the public, the facts and figures they used were all grossly exaggerated and manipulative. It was a full on "Parents, save your children" propaganda punch.  The interviews were all biased, they only interviewed people who had somehow gotten into some sort of problem on the net. They didn't bother with the majority. For instance, I've met people from thei nternet at least 15 times. The thing is, we have enough common sense to meet as a group in a public place (as I've mentioned before in this blog). That's all it takes, common sense.<br>The comments page was overflowing with comments from angry teenagers (a lot of whom, I know) and naive parents.<br><a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/programmes/panorama/7176709.stm"><a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/programmes/panorama/7176709.stm">http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/programmes/panorama/7176709.stm</a></a></p> <p>I also posted a rant on the BBC parenting message board, which pretty much sums up my feelings and argument against such programming. Here it is:</p> <p><a href="http://seanywonders.blogspot.com/2008/01/panorama-paedorama.html"><a href="http://seanywonders.blogspot.com/2008/01/panorama-paedorama.html">http://seanywonders.blogspot.com/2008/01/panorama-paedorama.html</a></a></p> <p>So, any parents reading this, please do take these points into consideration if you intend on doing such things to your teenagers. Any comments welcome, I'll answer as soon as I can. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://theawfultruth.blog.co.uk/2008/01/10/panorama_paedorama~3558836/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:theawfultruth.blog.co.uk,2008-01-07:/2008/01/07/i_really_should_start_slitting_my_wrists~3543079/Sean-2008-01-07T20:55:05+01:002008-01-07T20:55:05+01:00 <p>Right. Let's go back to early December.  Happy days for most of us, yeah? School was drawing to an end, Christmas was getting closer, everyone had myspace christmas countdowns, everyone was out buying presents etc. <br>It was pretty great for me too! I suddenly had a social life! Had 2 christmas parties, missed loads of school because of technical crew and rehearsals for the upcoming school concerts, finally had my life in order.<br>Then it was christmas, I got some good presents and had a generally alright time, albeit missing my girlfriend a lot. It wasn't the best christmas ever, but I've had worse. Then, boxing day. <br>I stayed in bed the whole day, simply because of the fact that if I tried to get out, I would go all dizzy and then faint. It's the worst I've felt in my life. The day after that, I went out with my church choir, ice skating. While still feeling generally dizzy and rather out of it, I managed to force myself to have a good time, and surprisingly, given my dizziness, managed not to fall over once while skating. Then followed a trip to the cinema, and I Am Legend. A genuinely scary film, when watched at 3am (as I had done a week previously), but on the big screen, it played more like an average zombie movie. <br>Then, I was taken away. To the New Forest, of all places. Now, I don't mind the area, christ, I lived in it for a year, it's lovely!<br>But when you're stuck in an isolated holday cottage along with various other friends and their families, no internet, no London New Years party (which I intended on attending) and missing a great day out with other friends, it can get extremely, extremely tiresomely boring.<br>On New Years Eve, I sat watching the TV. Watching the fireworks in London. Missing all my other friends. I've never been so close to tears in the last 2 years. I think what annoyed me most was the amount of walking we did. I lived there (as I said), and every day, I did nothing but walk. So going back on "holiday" and walking <em>every single day</em> was not my idea of fun.<br>Anyway, got back from there on the 2nd, and spent 3 days with my girlfriend. ^____^ That was good.</p> <p>Then, today, (Monday), back to school. That, is not good. It's fucking depressing. To add insult to injury, today we had Maths, English, Science (Bio), Maths Science (Chem). Fucking awful.</p> <p>I'm sure there's more I could moan about, both politically, socially and personally, but my fingers are aching now. So I'll be back sometine soon with something else to rant about. </p> <p>Bye bye!</p> <p>P.S. Someone <em>please</em> befriend poor little me!? It get's lonely! </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://theawfultruth.blog.co.uk/2008/01/07/i_really_should_start_slitting_my_wrists~3543079/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:theawfultruth.blog.co.uk,2007-12-11:/2007/12/11/politics_is_decidedly_uninteresting~3430014/Sean-2007-12-11T22:13:47+01:002007-12-11T22:13:47+01:00 <p>Hello dear readers!<br>You may have noticed a distinct lack of my ramblings recently.<br>There are three main reasons for this.</p> <p>1)There's not much to ramble about lately, bar the government data losses and the football tradjedy.<br>2)I'm a lazy tosspot, and I forgot<br>3)My internet time is being spent much more effectively, recently. Her name's Sinéad.</p> <p>I tell you that, becuase everyone knows now anyway, although, I've managed to keep quiet since September ...<br>According to my friends, she's in fact called Dave, has a beard and originates from Cosovo. None of this, I assure you, is true.</p> <p>Enough of that.<br> <br>I need something to rant and rave about, so first, I'll pick on our diabolical excuse for a government. In the last 3 weeks, government organisations have managed to lose two sets of data. HMRC lost details for child benefits (although the figure of 25 million was rather exaggerated), and this week, the DVLA announced that they'd lost details of over 6000 car owners in N. Ireland. What amazes me is this:<br>In a world of high technology and easy-to-use ICT facilities, why the fuck would a government send personal details around on unencrypted CDs in public mail? If it's absolutely necessary to send things, I'm sure any government organisation (there's an oxymoron for you) can cough up about a tenner for a special delivery.<br>That aside, you'd have thought that the DVLA would've maybe decided to at least encrypt their information, after only weeks before, HMRC made the same mistake.<br>So, what the government have pretty much proved is that they obviously can't be trusted. Yet, they wonder why less people are voting these days. They've also proved that they have a knack for employing stupid people and a have a blatent colective lack of common sense. <br>What really gets me is the fact that the DVLA addressed everyone affected as "customers". Customers are people who go to a business or agency to pay for their services. If that service isn't good enough, they can take their custom elsewhere. We, on the other hand, are stuck with an incompetant and unreliable "service" that we have to pay for whether we like it or not.</p> <p>On another note ... <em>I'm standing here in the pouring rain, where the fuck's my fucking train!? ...<br>All they say is "please mind the doors" , and they learn that on the two day course ...<br>So don't tell me to "mind the gap", I want my fucking money back!<br></em>Awesome song, I'm sure most Londoners would agree. I know a few tube drivers, they say they find it vaguely offensive, and naive, but, nevertheless they see the funny side.<br>Never in my life, did I think I'd actually find a real excuse to draw any real comparison to the song. Needless to say, I did on Saturday.<br>After going to the Hyde Park Winter Wonder Land, we decided to go to Namco (something to do with the fact that WWL wasn't really that good <img src="/img/smilies/icon_wink.gif" alt=";)" class="middle" border="0"> ) . So we thought we could rely on good old London Underground to provide a service that vaguely suited our needs.<br>Never have I seen such a total fuckfest. Hyde Park Corner station was packed. The platform was literally packed, full of screaming kids, grandparents, mules, and generally wet people. <br>Yet, the twat who LU had let loose with the station tannoy announcer system saw fit to inform us of this :</p> <p>"You are causing an obstruction on the platform. Please turn to your left and move down. Put on foot in front of the other and move. <br>Please don't delay this train from leaving, otherwise the next one will take longer to get in, besides, if you didn't get this one, you're unlikely to get the next on, let the customers behind you get on. Your next train has just left Knightsbridge, it will arrive shortly. By the way, it's just as packed as the last one, you probably won't get on, so just move further down the platform" </p> <p>Condesending prick. That wasn't the worst of it either. So we wrote a sign saying "Have a nice day" and held it up against the CCTV camera. Before getting the train in the opposite direction and taking a long winding route to Namco.</p> <p>Anyway, that's me for today.<br>Oh and guys, add me as a friend for gods sake! I feel like a complete loser! </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://theawfultruth.blog.co.uk/2007/12/11/politics_is_decidedly_uninteresting~3430014/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:theawfultruth.blog.co.uk,2007-10-15:/2007/10/15/can_we_make_a_difference~3141432/Sean-2007-10-15T19:54:01+02:002007-10-15T19:54:01+02:00 <p>Well, upon looking through the Greenpeace website yesterday, while doing a bit of research, I was reminded of all the cool stuff they've done, and, pretty much why I'm a member. During my little forage, I can across a link to a website : <a href="http://www.blogactionday.org">www.blogactionday.org</a>  ...<br>"Well" I thought "that's tomorrow!". So I decided to register and join in. So, here we go. Blog Action Day!<br>Basically, the idea of today is to raise awareness of our enviroment and why we should take care of our planet.<br>My particular musing on this was "What can one person do? Is it worth it? Have we already killed our planet?".<br>And, once again, I found myself reading through the Greenpeace website. Well - that pretty much answers the first question. Greenpeace is the result of lots of "one person"s put together. On Monday they took over a coal power station in Kent, in protest to Gordon Browns seeming "green light" strategy to polluting the planet. That takes some guts. Not only that, it takes a lot of care as well. Greenpeace activists put their life on the line just trying to make the world better for us all. So, maybe you don't fancy doing that? Well, there're plenty of other things you can do. If you were to replace 2 light bulbs in your house with energy efficient ones, not only would you save £30 a year, you'd create 3 cubic tonnes less carbon dioxide every year. So once again, that leaves you on your own. Wrong. Let's say 6 people see this blog, and change their light fittings, already that's 18 tonnes less carbon dioxide. Now, combined, every blog on Blog Action Day, takes around 30 million veiws. Maybe only 1 million of those veiwers will take action on what they read, but still that's a reduction of 3 million cubic tonnes. Gettting the jist now?<br>Is it really worth it? <br>I mean, by the time anything serious starts happening, we'll be dead, right?<br>Wrong.<br>In the next 5 years we WILL start drastically noticing the effects of climate change. <br>I suggest, along with the other 6000 bloggers postng today, that we all start taking this seriously. I mean, is it really so much trouble to switch the heating down by a degree, or turn off a light? If we carry on like we do, live will not be so convenient.<br>Have we already killed our planet?<br>I'll be blunt here: possibly.<br>But that doesn't stop us trying to make it better. Perhaps, when we start getting tornados ripping down the thames, or snow falling in Egypt, people might start taking global warming seriously.<br>People refuse to help with the effort to reduce climate change becuase of "money" (no names mentioned, America) or simply because they can't be arsed. I feel ashamed to be human, if that is indeed what the human race dictates.<br>Maybe tomorrow, you can walk out of a room smiling, having turned a light off. I know I will. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://theawfultruth.blog.co.uk/2007/10/15/can_we_make_a_difference~3141432/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:theawfultruth.blog.co.uk,2007-10-11:/2007/10/11/all_it_takes_is_a_little_bit_of_conserva~3121617/Sean-2007-10-11T21:09:11+02:002007-10-11T21:09:11+02:00 <p>Yeah. Right.<br>I spent five minutes last week literally crying with laughter after David Camerons speech to the conservative party conference. <br>More specifically, his approach to gang culture and behaviour in the UK. Which seemed to be "I'm going to stop the gangs! Just like that! All you need is love! and lots of money .." .<br>I work for my local Childrens Rights Service, through which I end up sitting through countless meetings and seminars where some bright young spark has come up with suggestions like "If we just pump it full of money, it'll go away" or "they have nothing to do! Build the poor lads a youth group and they'll all play happily together and not shoot each others heads off!". Or even one councellor who came up with the gem of "Send them all back to Africa where they came from". I should note, that I actually asked him to leave the meeting becuase of that.<br>Waltham Forest (my local authority) recently commissioned a bloke from some university or other, to compile a report on the cause of gang culture in London. Yes, he did it. Came back and presented it to the council. They, and the media lapped it all up. However, when our team analysed it, we found that most of the information was incorrect. Such as gang names, the reasons people join gangs, the number of people in each gang, the amount of gangs, where they were getting there weapons from ,etc.<br>We were able to do that, because we are young people. We know what happens out there better than any adult ever could. Amazing, isn't it, how a team of dedicated young people can pretty much pull a 50 page report to tatters?<br>And, that is the way forward. Gangs won't stop being violent simply becuase some kind soul builds a youth shelter or starts a youth group. It's down to the young people who get involved in gangs, and those who know them, to gradually slow it down. Yes, authorities would never use such tactics, because it puts young peoples lives in danger. But I can tell you now, it does work. We've tried it (off the books of course), and it worked. It's time that society in general started to wake up to the fact that young people should be listened to and valued just as much as a guy with a PhD in social science (or whatever he had), because, more often than not, young people know the things that adults won't. Such as the "grass phenominom" where, the police in their upmost naivity tell young people to come forward and divulge information about gangs and drug suppliers, under the promise that they'll be protected. 38% of these young people end up either shot or stabbed within the next two weeks, a further 9% of these will die from their injuries. <br>That's my rant for today, in stark contrast to whinging about mobile phone masts.<br>Do think about it, and take it seriously, trust me, it may safe you one day. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://theawfultruth.blog.co.uk/2007/10/11/all_it_takes_is_a_little_bit_of_conserva~3121617/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:theawfultruth.blog.co.uk,2007-09-27:/2007/09/27/phone_masts_transmit_pornography~3050370/Sean-2007-09-27T21:15:42+02:002007-09-27T21:20:33+02:00 <p>My church (Chingford Parish Church - Ss Peter & Pauls, for all you paedophiles out there) was asked, about four months ago, whether they'd consider having a mobile phone mast on the spire. As it's the tallest building around, it seemed like a perfectly logical idea. <br>The incentive was that the church gets £3000 a year for it.<br>Upon discussion, our church decided that this was perfectly reasonable, and accepted the offer. As most of you know, this is the point where you get mad idiots protesting about something they know nothing about. Let me explain...<br><a href="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/media/media_item.php?item_ID=2012673" title="Quick map"><img src="http://data1.blog.de/media/673/2012673_8bc9af99bf_s.jpeg" alt="Quick map" hspace="5" vspace="5"></a></p> <p>People were worried about radiation frying the poor little urchins brains at the RC school. So, they protested outside our church on a Sunday morning. How mature.<br>Firstly, in their haste to point the finger of blame, they overlooked the fact that there is already a phone mast less than 20 metres from the school (which is alot more powerful than the proposed on for our church). Secondly, they overlooked the fact that both the police station and the fire station have radio masts that are 10 times more powerful than the 30 watt one proposed for the church.<br>On aforementioned sunday morning, said protesters were protesting (as protesters do). One of these protesters got a bit lost. She couldn't find the rest of her group. So, she takes out her mobile phone, and calls her friend.  (Using a mobile phone is actually more dangerous than the phone mast itself, becuase you're holding it for a prolonged period against the weakest part of your skull - radiation can get through more easliy). Anyway, ironic, no?<br>After all of the above facts had been pointed out to the protesters, they took a different approach. <br>Hate mail.<br>I'm sorry, but how the fuck can you justify yourself as a christian (which these people are), when you send hate male to the rector of a neighbouring church (that church being ours)??<br>Father Tom is a great man. He had to put up with these idiots sending hate mail and various other complimentary ... gifts, all over a phone mast. He actually got really emotionally upset over it. I'd like to know how anybody could justifiy doing something like that?<br>It wasn't just Tom that got the mail though, it was every member of the Parish Council. Some of these people, married with children, No child should ever be able to read something so ... vile. Especially aimed at their own parents.<br>Immature much?<br>Upon realising (due to lack of scientific back up) that their argument would never hold up, our disgustingly clueless protesters decided to use the rather obvious arguement that "phone masts transmit pornography - this is an immoral thing for a church to do".</p> <p>What can you actually say to people like that?</p> <p><img class="smiley" src="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/tinymce/jss/plugins/blogdeemotions/smilies/10rolleyessmile.gif" border="0" alt=""></p> <p>Ps. The 3K a year that will hopefully be raised by having a mast, will be used for charitable purposes., </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://theawfultruth.blog.co.uk/2007/09/27/phone_masts_transmit_pornography~3050370/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:theawfultruth.blog.co.uk,2007-09-23:/2007/09/23/a_few_people_i_couldn_t_live_without~3027830/Sean-2007-09-23T18:34:09+02:002007-09-23T18:34:09+02:00 <p>Carrying on from my sentimental saga, I've decided to devote todays entry to about 5/6 very special people. I won't name them - they know who they are.<br> Friends are a part of our lives that we'd pretty much crumble without. Best friends, are the pillars of our being.<br> The 6 or so best friends I'm talking about really do match that description, and more.<br> In no particular order :</p> <p>Person one:<br> You're amazing. I've told you this so many times, but you really are. The amount of times I've come running to you with problems, and you've always been there, to talk to. Even if you can't help sort it out, just talking to you makes me feel better. The 4am text message conversations, random msn karaokes and voice recordings all mean so much to me. I've only really met you once, and you truly are great.</p> <p>Person two:<br> Randomness for the win! Once again you're (for want of a better word) amazing.<br> You were the person that really taught me to beleive in friends. You pushed me to tell you what was wrong, and I'm grateful for it. I'll always remember the way you never picked up the phone, until one day when I phoned you at 3am, and we ended up having a 2 hour discussion about people and religion and other randomness, it was great. Ever since then I've known I can always rely on you.</p> <p>Person three:<br> At last, a person I actually know from school! You're probably the smartest kid I know who has such a great sense of homour. Randomness, intelligence and long hair are an odd mix for a boy, but they work for you. I remember my first day at infant school in year two, seven years ago. It was you who let me into the "gang". I think you're the only person I've never argued with. Thankyou.</p> <p>Person four:<br> Yay, another school person. You've been known to be tempremental, and in fairness, I did rather provoke you (probably still do =D) when we were younger. We've had our fall outs, who doesn't. You're still a great person, always trying to point out the simplicity in everything. True, you can be pretty harsh with your insults, but hey, I'll live <img src="/img/smilies/icon_smile.gif" alt=":)" class="middle" border="0"></p> <p>Person five:<br> Flirtacious, much? Nah, you're awesome. Our late night phone conversations are always fun, and awesome <img src="/img/smilies/icon_smile.gif" alt=":)" class="middle" border="0"> . Thanks for being there for me, even though I was a prick to you.</p> <p>Person six:<br> I think you'll know who you are and what I mean, by this: I hope we're still alright. you still mean alot to me <img src="/img/smilies/icon_smile.gif" alt=":)" class="middle" border="0"></p> <p>Guys, I mean everything I say here, I've probably told you most of it before but it's here just in case.<br> There's one final addition (and I'd rather this person didn't know I was talking about them =D). :</p> <p>Person sevenish:<br> I can't wait til I see you again. Last time was awesome.</p> <p>And to everyone else I know who has read this:<br> Even if you aren't on the list, or don't think you are, it doesn't mean you don't mean a lot to me. (Well, that's not strictly true, there are about four people who may read this, who I wouldn't trust with a piece of paper, let alone my deepest secrets).</p> <p>Everyone else:<br> Respect your friends, you never know when you'll truly need them - I certainly found that out.</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://theawfultruth.blog.co.uk/2007/09/23/a_few_people_i_couldn_t_live_without~3027830/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:theawfultruth.blog.co.uk,2007-09-21:/2007/09/21/london~3019138/Sean-2007-09-21T19:28:33+02:002007-09-21T19:28:33+02:00 <p>My City. As much as I hate it, I love it.<br>Yes, the busses are always late. The Victoria line is never running. There are people shoving thelondonpapaer or the metro up your nose wherever you choose to go, tourists stepping on your feet. But nevertheless, it's something special to be a part of. To me, London means alot. Being able to see the Gherkin at night from my room, watching a bus head into central london, watching a plane line up on the approach for Heathrow airport, sitting on the central line shaking my head along to the rhythm of the vibration (in commuter like fashion) watching the headlines on peoples newspapers. I feel like I'm part of something big. Knowing that whatever way I look, I know where I am.<br>London seems big on a map. Very big. I live on the edge of it. Yet, I'm only a twenty minute train ride from one of my best freinds who lives pretty much right in the middle.  To me, it's normal having to find a different way through the maze of trains every time I go into town. The announcements of "Central line closed due to maintenance and there are heavy delays on the circle and district lines, sorry for any inconvenience", as annoying as they are, are all part of London. <br>For those fellow Londoners out there, our city is one of the most cultural, fun and different places in the world. Next time you're annoyed that the northern line is under maintenance, or the train is packed with fun-flash wielding Japanese people, or loud Americans, just remember, remember there's nowhere quite like London. Each one of us, from the high up buisnesspeople working in office blocks in central London, to government offiicials over in Westminster, to the social workers working in various boroughs even down to the dustbin men and post men running around in the early hours of the morning, are a vital part of what keeps London alive, and what it is today. It's through everyone of us that London lives, not through the physical city. Without us, London would be nothing. Without London, we'd be nothing.<br>For everyone else, if you ever do come to London, please don't step on the commuters feet, and please don't take pictures of the busses - they're not that amazing. Please don't shout on the underground at 8am, and please, please, loose the kodak funflash, and fijifilm cameras, you've no idea how annoying they are. Also, don't follow the majority - as amazing as it is, the tower of London isn't the only thing to see in London. If you go down a little side street anywhere, you're guaranteed to see parts of London that are just as amazing.</p> <p>I'm sorry for my sentiment, but I felt it was about time someone showed our city a bit of sympathy. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://theawfultruth.blog.co.uk/2007/09/21/london~3019138/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:theawfultruth.blog.co.uk,2007-09-09:/2007/09/09/the_internet_is_full_of_peadophiles_don_~2952597/Sean-2007-09-09T21:07:28+02:002007-09-09T21:07:28+02:00 <p>No seriously! Unplug your modem and burn it! Now! Do it!</p> <p>Or maybe not. Although, given the coverage on the subject by the media these days, you might as well.</p> <p>It seems that behind every hyperlink, there's a peadophile waiting to attack and rape you. You mustn't use chatrooms. You can't use forums or message boards. Hell, we're even told who we can and can't add to our instant messaging contact lists. Yes, admittedly the internet is a dangerous place to be, but, so's my local shopping centre! <br>Yes, peadophiles do use the internet, but with a bit of common sense, they're pretty easy to avoid. Now, the medias answer to that argument would be "Ah, but peadophiles are capable of setting up a whole new identity online!" <br>True. But, even in that case, if you were to plan on meeting someone off the internet, you'd be thick to go alone.<br>Now for the real bombshell... I've met internet people!  OMGOMG! It was a group meet up. Perfectly safe. In a public area. Liverpool St Station. (See - basic common sense). We all met together, now, unless you're saying that there might have been a gang of peadophiles waiting for me (to which my reply is :<img class="smiley" src="http://www.blog.co.uk/srv/tinymce/jss/plugins/blogdeemotions/smilies/10rolleyessmile.gif" border="0" alt=""> ), it was perfectly safe becuase if there had been a peado in our midst we could have overpowered him/her.<br>So, my message (in complete contradiction to the general opinion) is "Get on those chatrooms and forums, add who you want on your IM list.. Haave fun! A little bit of common sense is all you need!"</p> <p> <small> <a href="http://theawfultruth.blog.co.uk/2007/09/09/the_internet_is_full_of_peadophiles_don_~2952597/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:theawfultruth.blog.co.uk,2007-08-25:/2007/08/25/hmmm~2866189/Sean-2007-08-25T03:48:20+02:002007-08-25T03:48:20+02:00 <p>Well, it's 3am on a Saturday morning and I can't sleep. So what better thing to do than to dig up an old blog <img src="/img/smilies/icon_smile.gif" alt=":)" class="middle" border="0"></p> <p>This mornings rant is about chavs. <br>Basically, sitting on a train back from London Liverpool Street, with a rather loud Manchesterian on my left, and an old women on my right who wouldn't stop prodding me with her umbrella, I was thinking "This can't get much worse ..." Thirty seconds later, we pull into Bethnal Green Station ... "It's platform 5 bruv!" <br>"Nah man! It's blates platform 1 innit!"</p> <p>Me "Oh great".</p> <p>"Man, we'll see yeah?!"<br>"Exxxactly man! And you'll be sorry you ever opened your mouth Innit!"</p> <p>On they get with their trousers round thier knees and hoodies up, they sit down at the other end of the carriage (thankfully) and promptly whip their phones out especially to treat the whole carriage to some obscenely bad ....Music? ... to be honest, I don't really class rap as music.  <br>We had to endure this for the whole journey back to Chingford.</p> <p>At my school, one has to be very careful to talk in words of twp sylabylls or less, just to prevent confusion.</p> <p>What annoys me, is the sheer lack of basic intelligence or common sense. I mean surely, their parents can't actually proud of them? Maybe they have their ASBOs framed and pinned on the wall at home - a certificate of acheivement, becuase, let's face it, it's just about the only thing they ever will acheive. Understandably, the majority of "chavs" are brought up in slightly less desirable areas, due to a lack of money (yet they still manage to walk around in Nike tracksuits and wave their new flip phones in the air), but that's no reason to be thick! <br>I mean, the teenage pregnancy rate says it all really. Highest in Europe. The mentality here seems to be:</p> <p>"what's 4 +2?"<br>"Dunno... Wanna fuck?"</p> <p>Oh, and the amount of ways in which you can disrespect a chav is unbeleivable. Although, my response when such matters do arise is normally :</p> <p>"respect you? I'll respect you when you start showing some basic repect for the use of the english language" <br> <br>to which I get </p> <p>"you disrespecticng me bruv?" </p> <p>"... Y  e  s ..."</p> <p>The level of stupidity that chavs show actually makes me ashamed to be a teenager, or, indeed British. For instance, a certain female in my geography class in year seven thought that Belguim was the Capital of France... I'm sorry, but to be that stupid, it isn't a case of "not listening in class", you've actually got to try your very hardesy to be stupid, to acheive this.</p> <p>So, I ask, why do we tolerate these people? Seriously, can we not just make stupidity a crime and shoot them on the spot? </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://theawfultruth.blog.co.uk/2007/08/25/hmmm~2866189/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:theawfultruth.blog.co.uk,2007-06-24:/2007/06/24/bye_bye_blair~2510796/Sean-2007-06-24T16:19:27+02:002007-06-24T16:19:27+02:00 <p>Title says it all really, but today was Mr Blairs last day in office. So, what becomes of Britain now? Can Gordon Brown turn things around? Sort out the NHS? Mleh. Maybe.<br> But sofar as I'm concerned, government will always lie to people about the truth. You only have to take one look at the 9/11 controversy to realise that something isn't quite right.<br> Anyway, in other news, last week, my school burnt down.<br> Well, actually, no, it didn't. Some quick witted year seven decided that he'd conduct a little experiment in the toilets. Consisting of a toilet brush, toilet roll, a shoe and a lighter.<br> He failed. Miserablely. The fire burnt a toilet cubicle and singed the urinals. Then a couple of fire engines turned up and put it out. Clever them.<br> Anyway, that's not the issue. It's the way the school dealt with it that annoyed me.<br> First, the fire alarm goes off. I'm in English, so we all make for the door. Our fire alarm is rather faulty, but that's no excuse for a teacher to physically hold the door shut as we try to evacuate. The alarm gets turned off by some idiot who thought it was false. Then upon realising it's real, they turn it on again. By this time, senior management have sent sixth formers back into the school to tell everyone it's real! Sixth formers! They send students back into a burning building! I mean... does this not go against one of the most important emergency guidelines?</p> <p>Idiots.</p> <p>Anyway, I kinda forgot about this blog, and I've also failed to rant about microsoft as promised below. However, I'll try and keep this a little more up yo date in future. </p> <p>Chow!</p> <p><img src="http://i79.photobucket.com/albums/j153/joffle/18-06-07_3.jpg" alt="owned again" title="..."><img src="http://i79.photobucket.com/albums/j153/joffle/18-06-07_1.jpg" alt="owned" title="Y7 + Lighter ="> </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://theawfultruth.blog.co.uk/2007/06/24/bye_bye_blair~2510796/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:theawfultruth.blog.co.uk,2007-04-07:/2007/04/07/fantastic_friday~2051056/Sean-2007-04-07T20:37:17+02:002007-04-07T20:37:17+02:00 <p>Good Friday eh? What was all that about? <br>Religious people all going around moping about some Jesus bloke who got hung on a cross or something. Well I never! Well, actually I would. I had pride of place singing with my church choir as we processed around the outside of the church looking like complete twits...<br> To be perfectly honest, I'm not really sure I beleive in God. The whole point of religon is to find the meaning of life, or to devote your life to some god or other. Quite frankly I don't want to do that! I'm quite happy not knowing the meaning of life, being alive id enough for me, and as for the devotion of life to various deities and gods...no thanks. For the fact that I'm alive, I'm grateful to who/whatever made me. But I'm not going to spend my whole life walking around with a sack over my head praying for forgiveness...<br>Yes, there may well have been a Jesus bloke - I'm sure he was a perfectly nice dude, but turning water to wine? No.. I don't think so.</p> <p><img src="http://www.flashasylum.com/db/files/Comics/Dave/comicjesuschrist5.png" alt="lmao" title="Why hast thou forsaken me!?" width="400" height="400"></p> <p>Hahaha!   ^</p> <p>Next time, I shall be ranting about microsft!   ¬.¬             Chow!</p> <p> </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://theawfultruth.blog.co.uk/2007/04/07/fantastic_friday~2051056/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:theawfultruth.blog.co.uk,2007-04-05:/2007/04/05/is_proud~2037431/Sean-2007-04-05T11:35:00+02:002007-04-05T11:35:00+02:00 <p>heylo peoplez!</p> <p>I really need to post more frequently...<br> Anyway, 'tis the Easter holidays! Well, so far it hasn't for me, but hey, no school has to be good, right?<br> The reason I'm rather porud of myself is becuase of what I managed to do to my computer yesterday. I hacked Windows!<img src="http://i79.photobucket.com/albums/j153/joffle/Clickme.png" alt="windoze!" title="Notice anything... different?"></p> <p>As you can see, I've been fiddling with the coding!<br> (If you do want to do this, make sure you're not a computer retard).</p> <p>Aside from that, our 15 marines and sailors will be arriving at Heathrow in just under half an hour. Hooray!</p> <p>But I'll leave you with this... Do they really deserve a heros welcome? </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://theawfultruth.blog.co.uk/2007/04/05/is_proud~2037431/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:theawfultruth.blog.co.uk,2007-04-01:/2007/04/01/here_we_go_again~2016705/Sean-2007-04-01T22:28:27+02:002007-04-01T22:28:27+02:00 <p>Been a little while since I last posted, but now I'm back to prowl the net...</p> <p>So, Hours after I posted last week, 15 british naval personel were "arrested" by an Iranian naval patrol in disputed waters. At this rate, we'll have world war three by the end of the year. Let's face it, Iran have been looking for an excuse to pick a fight, unfortunatly for us, they've picked it with Britain. Hang on a second... They've kidnapped 15 BRITISH citizens so they can get 5 Iranian citizens freed from AMERICA...<br> We all know the Americans never lift a finger other than to save their own arses, so why does the Iranian government think for one second that using the UK to get something from the US is going to work?<br> Bloody fools.<br> If the Iranian president/dictator/whatever else he calls himself does by any chance see this, I have one message for him/it.<br> GET A BLOODY LIFE YOU SAD, INSECURE SPOILT BRAT! </p> <p>There is something else though... These 15 marines were doing a cargo inspection. They used 3 little let boat things. The Iranian boat that picked them up after returning to HMS[insert name here} was a hulking great gunship that must have been visible for miles... How the hell didn't they see it?!?</p> <p>So, it looks pretty bleak for those 15 people, let's hope they get through it alive... </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://theawfultruth.blog.co.uk/2007/04/01/here_we_go_again~2016705/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:theawfultruth.blog.co.uk,2007-03-24:/2007/03/24/you_can_bomb_the_world_to_pieces~1967642/Sean-2007-03-24T18:39:54+01:002007-03-24T18:43:46+01:00 <p>But you can't bomb it into peace.</p> <p>Those are the words that keep going round and round my head. After watching a video made by Greenpeace as a tribute to the Rainbow Warrior (The ship the French sunk in New Zealand), I thought about how badly we're damaging our planet. I'm a Greenpeace member, but I've only really started getting interested in it. You'd think that by now our governments would stop being so childish and get their act together. But instead, Britian starts the process of renewing TRIDENT (nuclear defence system), the USA still refuses to sign an agreement to cut CO2 emissions (no surprises there, they never sign anything unless it diresctly helps them), the Japanese keep killing Whales and the 'Anti terror war' is still raging between the West and Middle East. By now, after Worlds Wars 1 and 2, the fruitless Veitnam war, the Falklands war, the First gulf war... and many others, our governments should have learnt that war solves nothing. Ironically, the cause of recent terror attacks is Americas stupid "War on Terror"! But still the western countries justify the deaths of over 100 innocent civilians ever day in the middle east with the fact that they're apparently all terrorists. 9/11 and 7/7/05 in total killed less than 1000 people (I'm not saying that's ok), the war in Iraq has killed over 5000 innocent people. Let me ask you this. Is it really worth it? Emotionally, financially, physically... </p> <p>Of course, what the governments fail to see is the impact they have on everyday life. Only today I was walking back from the hairdressers when I heard an 8 year old say to his mum "When I grow up I want to be a soldier so I can shoot people like they do on the news!".<br> Sorry, but am I the only person who is disturbed by this?<br> Next time we have a reffurendum please vote for the option that means NOT blowing each other up, or NOT blowing up the planet.</p> <p>Thankyou.</p> <p><a href="http://www.greenpeace.org/international/photosvideos/videos/bomb-the-world">http://www.greenpeace.org/international/photosvideos/videos/bomb-the-world</a><br> Thats the video if anyone's interested. </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://theawfultruth.blog.co.uk/2007/03/24/you_can_bomb_the_world_to_pieces~1967642/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>tag:theawfultruth.blog.co.uk,2007-03-23:/2007/03/23/the_beginning~1962812/Sean-2007-03-23T20:47:53+01:002007-03-23T20:47:53+01:00 <p>Slightly boring title... but what else could I call it?</p> <p>Anyway, I'm Sean as you may or may not know. This blog is really for me to give my opinions on things and find out what you all think. I'll try and keep it interesting, but I can't gaurantee anything ... </p> <p>Not much happened today (apart from a rather uneventful mock science SAT), so I'll start with yesterday.</p> <p>Me and a few friends are waiting at a bus stop, looking rather innocent and waiting for a bus. We see a 20 coming around the corner and stick our arms out. So what does Mr Bus Driver do? He drives straaaight past...  What really cracked me up was the fact that on the back of the bus there was a massive road safety advert which said "STOP! means STOP!"<br>I was in fits of luaghter for about 5 minutes.<br>When the bus came back up the road (it goes to the station then comes out again to comtinue the journey) we managed to get on. I made a few sarcastic comments about the meaning of "stop". Then the bus driver goes "Don't be silly and drop litter on my bus!" <br>... All fair enough except WE DIDN'T HAVE ANY FECKING LITTER TO DROP!</p> <p>So that's London transport for you. </p> <p>BTW if anyone wants to beat up this bloke, the bus registration was HMT 888 </p> <p>So, Until tomorrow (when I might actually have something meaningful to talk about)!  Adios Amigos! </p> <p> <small> <a href="http://theawfultruth.blog.co.uk/2007/03/23/the_beginning~1962812/#comments">Comments</a> </small> </p>