Arthur's English Journal

In this modem world we live in we often think it’s are right to know every thing about those who have found success. But it’s my opinion that this is as much are right than it is for a postman to look at are post. Before I get really stuck in I believe it’s important to define what we are saying is a celebrity. My definition of a celeb is that it’s a person who has done/dose something that thrust them into the limelight and dose what they do for what they do and not for being famous. Those people who do it for being famous are a different story. Now back to my original point. My theory is that people are naturally curios about other people, wether they are famous or not. We are always looking for dirt and when things like magazines can give us a constant and ever dirtier supply of dirt we can’t help but lap it up. If there was a magazine that gave us the dirt on are friends and family we would read that just as eagerly.

And dose what they do because they love what they do and not the fame and fortune.

Former footballer needs are help!!

Gazza, 46, ended up in hospital this week after a mammoth booze binge.

Paul Gasgoin, 46, went into hospital this week after he consumed a dangerous amount of alcohol.

[gview file=”If are book consumption remains as low as it has been. let us admit that it is because reading is a exciting pastime than going to the dogs, pictures or pub. Not because books are to expensive

I think if I was forced to give an honest answer I would say that I prefer the rain. It has that feeling of equality, like no matter how much money, no matter how much wealth you have, you can’t run from the rain. It’s about now that a hard slap to the leg brings me out of this sate of thinking. I look up and see Susan.
“You gonna move up now?” she says, knowing full well that she has all the power. I move over. She takes the place I have left for her, not a word of thanks leaving her overly worked lips. I look out of the window, the rain still pounding the cheap glass. I catch the eye of a woman walking along the sidewalk. She’s probably on the way to work, I can’t help but think that she’s just another forgettable office worker working at just another forgettable office. I wonder what she would think of me, probably that I was just another forgettable teen, on just another half empty school bus, sitting next to just another high-school slut and you know what, she would be right.

Ten minuets later, the bus begins to slow down, to let yet another poor kid onto this bus from hell. Despite the fact that I make this trip every day I still only ever remember three different stops. Firstly, Tim and Tina. Tim’s my best mate and Tina is his younger sister. The third one is Liam, I don’t really know if I can count him because he gets on at my stop, but I might as well. In all the years we have known each other we have never got to know one another. I think he lives about five minutes from my house, but in all our years of being neighbours I struggle to think of a time when we were neighbourly.

DAMN!! it suddenly occurs to me that I was supposed to complete a sheet for Math.

“What?” I realise that my sudden thought was actually said out loud. I begin to answer her, explaining the whole situation. Out of the corner of my eye I see a boy of about fifteen. Even with my bad memory I know that I have never seen this boy before. I start to turn my head but before I can really get a look at him he has pulled out a pump-action shot-gun and blown our bus driver away.

Chaos and panic explode from everyone on the bus. Liam stands up waving a revolver. At the back of the bus another kid who I only know by face stands up, he too holds a pistol. The bus roars into action and we drive off.

Ten minutes later, the kid who I only recognised by his face is standing at the front of the bus looking out the front window. The kid who shot the driver is behind the wheel and Liam is sitting looking straight at me and eleven other terrified teens. By now, they have crammed us into four rows of seats at the back of the bus. Despite the choas, I have managed to keep my window seat. Liam stands up and beings to speak.
“I know this might seem scary but I need every one of you to stay cool. Most of you probably won’t know what my name is. It’s Liam. The new boy driving is Casper and the other guy is Cameron.” From the back some dumb/brave kid stands and begins to open his mouth. Liam fires two rounds into the roof of the bus. The kid sits down, making his first wise decision of the day.

I look to my left and see the once proud and enigmatic figure of Susan has been replaced by a crying mess. It’s only now that I really get a sense of how important it is for girls to put makeup on.-

I wonder what time it is. Before I can stop myself I reach to my pocket and remember that all of our phones were taken. I’d be more angry but my birthday’s coming up and my Dad said he would get me one. I think back to the original question of what the time was. If I was forced to guess I would say it’s around nine, which means that unless Casper starts putting the peddle to the metal we ain’t getting to the school on time. So by my estimate that would mean the police would be alerted by no later than 9:30. Give them two or a bit hours to figure out what’s going on and track the bus down. Then an hour if they decide to give these guys whatever they want or half an hour if they come in all guns blazing. Then hour or so for questions and medical attention. Which means, by my estimate, this will all be done and dusted by around two. Or we’ll all be dead.