Ok, so, recently my retired school teacher chum Mr Coleman posed a question for me, asking what blogging really is. (Ooh, he won't like that, I've ended a sentence with a preposition. And every teacher knows that prepositions are words that you're not supposed to end sentences with. Unless, of course, they're games teachers, in which case, if my school was anything to go by, they're dictatorial perverts in cheap tracksuits who prefer chatting to sixth form boys in the shower to teaching kids about grammar.
In fact, where i went to school there was this one kid, really cool kid actually, just not very good at sports. But really bright and the girls all loved him. Anyway, he passed out during cross country - which is a stupid idea of a 'game' anyway - and Mr 'Wilkins' the teacher gave him mouth to mouth to resuscitate him. When the cool kid came round, Mr 'Wilkins' banged his head on the ground to knock him out again and carried on giving him mouth to mouth. Poor kid was too scared to tell anyone about it.
This sort of stuff shouldn't be allowed to happen, don't you think? People who work in schools should be subject to some sort of checks to see if they're the kind of people that will bang a kid's head on the ground and then kiss him for ages. I suppose the powers that be would say that no system's perfect and that one or two rotten apples will always slip through the cracks. But that's not good enough. At my school there were three teachers who married pupils (obviously the pupils had left by the time the marriage happened) which means that some kind of relationship was happening when the kids were at school.
Not that i would have minded if Miss Holly, one of our English teachers, had been up for trying it on with me. She was bloody gorgeous.
Anyway, that's no help to the poor lonely kid wandering the playing fields alone at lunchtime, unable to understand why the other kids all laugh and point. Kids can be so cruel, but so can adults. And we, as a society, need to look at these things and see how we can deal with them and stamp them out. NOT that I'm a fan of mob rule and setting fire to paediatricians and all that stuff. Those crazy people that did that ought to understand that paediatricians actually help children, not hurt them.
Bit of a touchy subject, all this, I know. But we can't pretend it doesn't go on. It just makes me so angry that there's nobody looking out for kids like the cool kid I was telling you about earlier. Anyway, I hear he turned out really very well, despite what happened to him.)
Right, back to Mr Coleman's essay question. Actually, you know what? I'm not in the right frame of mind to be doing that now. I'll do it later.