Yes, I know I misspelled some words. But that was the point. I am going school shopping today, OH JOY! No sarcasm there; that was complete sincerity. Oh, the new clothes, new binders, new pencils, but most importantly it means that our prison sentence begins in a week. I do love school, but school means Mr. S, and my hatred for him is like a million suns dying in front of me while riding on the back of a tiger through the eye of a hurricane. Not a friendly man, in my opinion.
But I do get to see all the amazing people who I call my Fried Frayed Friends and new teachers who are hopefully, not like Mr. S.
Cheez Fase out.
Question: who is Mr.S? Email me, for I must know! Are you talking about orchestra Mr.S? Because there's no avoiding him.
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