Rant time, bitches.

All right, let's start with my social studies teacher, Mrs. McQueeney. I could basically break the woman in half if I wanted to. She's got this stupid little bowl haircut, and her wardrobe...oh, God. But she talks to me as if I'm a retarded four-year-old. Today, what was supposed to be my last day of school, I had to stay after to talk to her about my research paper (that I handed in April, thankyouverymuch) and how I didn't go through the process right. I didn't footnote everything, so she was going to fail me. So we're sitting opposite, and she's explaining where she thinks I should have footnoted, and she stares into my eyes and talks really sloww, like I don't understand English or something. Ugh, I can't even explain how irritating she is, on every level of her existence.

Next, Mr. Nasry, French teacher. The man thinks he's the shit 'cause he's from Morocco, and actually grew up speaking French and Arabic. Whoopdeedoo. He's constantly comparing France and the US – France wins every time. Now don't get me wrong, I agree that America sucks ass, but excuse me sir, you were the one who moved here from Europe. You decided to come live here, we were born here.

But the most infuriating thing is that he teaches as if he's a philosophy professor at some college. As if language is this mystical idea that we have to think hard to grasp its concept. There are no vocab sheets, no tangible written-down stuff that we can actually study or learn from. And frankly, we don't remember everything he throws out in conversation, every random word that he happens to mention, as much as he's convinced it's so. One word, Naz: REPETITION. Ugh, what a dumbass.

And finally, something totally unrelated: those stupid emo wannabe poser kids. I don't know when it happened, but somehow people started thinking that wearing stud belts and eyeliner and writing poetry makes you emo. As far as I know, the term emo is short for emotional. People who live up to the definition of the term and fill the typical stereotype are depressed out of their skulls. That's what makes them cut, and do drugs, and be emotional. Anyone in their right mind would try to avoid depression as much as possible. Trust me, I know what it feels like to want to kill myself. Not fun. You can go and wear black eyeliner and studs and pierce yourself or whatever, just don't insult the people who actually fit into the category of emo for legitimate reasons.

And as long as we're on the subject of correct labelling, let me say one thing. GREENDAY IS NOT HARDCORE. If you think that shit is heavy, you are naïve. Simple as that.

Right, I'm done now.