Barrow-in-Furness: the arse-end of northwest. This half arsed mini rant is sponsored by the 6 hours i had to spend in this, the land where fun goes to die, awaiting a lecture and lab tour of the local hospital (which lasted all of fifteen minutes and told neither myself nor any of the other 40 students who shared my fate anything we didnt already know). At twenty years of age i was all but sure my field-trip days where over, but apparantly anyone on a science based degree course just isn't that lucky. Our course convenor had the coach going backwards round a one way system because he 'couldnt quite remember where the entrance was' despite having been there every year with the same course, and the veritable plethera of big red signs saying 'Hospital Entrance' . I do so love this higher education lark. Especially when your lecturer/course convenor (despite being extremly well read in cancer biology) is about as competent at common sense tasks as a five year old. Roll on the 2000 word essay and practical write up i now have to churn out in response to this 'experience'....
(P.S. To any poor unfortunate soul who actually reads these things, im sorry. I rant. A lot. I hate pretty much everything- im like a grumpy old man but relatively young and female.)
(P.S. To any poor unfortunate soul who actually reads these things, im sorry. I rant. A lot. I hate pretty much everything- im like a grumpy old man but relatively young and female.)
Oh, by the way, it appears you have consummate taste in films.
Keep up the ranting. x