I am going to rant because wtf 1029, wtf. Basically, 1029 is this ENGLISH module about ENGLISH dialects. And the bottom line is: SOMEONE SERIOUSLY NEEDS TO LEARN HOW TO DICTATE PROPERLY. Wtf 1029, we are the SCHOOL OF ENGLISH. WTF. SCHOOL OF ENGLISH. AND YOU CAN'T ARRANGE YOUR SYNTAX PROPERLY? And it's not the first time that we students have had to take this crap from you. Before every seminar, we have to DECODE. Yes, D-E-FUCKING-C-O-D-E what seems to be a string of English gibberish. [It's basically throwing a bunch of English words together and at the end of the day, you do not know what in the whole of Middle Earth do they want.] I have TRIED. God damned, I have tried. I spend an hour every week just trying to make sense of your nonsensical questions, before actually answering them when really, maybe if you stopped downing alcohol or smoking weed whilst typing out the worksheets, you might have been able to inject some sort of clarity in it? Maybe even an ounce because damned, you need SKILL to be this incomprehensible. I could spend these precious hours READING up on other stuff, doing assignments that actually make sense but nooo. Fuck. I am stuck here, trying to read this, and every week, my poor 1029 tutor has to apologize for your shit sentences. "I'm not a native speaker." Who the fucking hell cares? If you're going to use that to justify yourself, then fuck off the School of English and Languages because obviously, someone needs a career change. So let's say, you have a whole trove of knowledge in that brain, which is good, or you wouldn't be a doctor or whatever. But how. HOW. did you triumph over PHD standards when your sentences are as sensible as Dr. Seuss'? Good god. I pray so hard that you are not the same lecturer from Creative Writing [I heard], who can't even tell the difference between 'lost' and 'loose'. "You had a lost woman... Or was it 'loose woman'?" I can't even BELIEVE these sort of things could happen in a university. Every other lecturer and tutor that I have met are absolutely brilliant and are the epitome of what I'd love to strive to be in the future. But not you. Oh-ho. Nope. Not you. I absolutely refuse to allow my [future] students to peruse over my questions like a fucking catalogue in another language because they don't know which to start with first. What the fuck, 1029. What the fuck.
Signing off @ 4:42 PM
The Girl
About me
Rachel
twentyone
I think I'm supposed to write something awesome here.
