Harper vs. Schneider

Until now, all my posts have had a single author. Viz, me. Well, I think it's time for another one of my experiments. Some have been successful. Some have not. I'm not sure whether to hope that this is a success or a failure. If people like it, that's obviously a good thing. Then again, if they hate it, it means I won't have to write another one like this. No more textual arguing, no more fights over the keyboard . . .

Anyway, I leave you to make your own decision. As you may have realised by now - if not by the rather confused introduction, then by the title of this post - this post is unique in that it is co-authored by myself and Giuseppe. We had a RAVE lesson to fill, and no wish to do any work. What you are about to read is exactly what we had in the lesson, bar a couple of spelling mistakes I've corrected, and one or two instances in which I felt compelled to add notes, in order to make it clearer for all concerned. Giuseppe's bits will be in purple, my original bits in blue, and my notes in the customary (if unoriginal) black shade.

This is the result.

Greetings readers of Leslie M Harper’s fantastic blog! As you might have gathered by the few words that I have typed, that I am in fact, not Leslie M Harper - and you would be correct. Congratulations, you have gotten something right and can thus feel good about yourself. Pat yourself on the back and treat yourself to an ice cream. This is the infamous (thanks Leslie) Giuseppe L Schneider. My full name yes, but Leslie does not like referring to my by full name, can’t imagine why. Other than the blog’s writer, I am the only personage on this wonderful blog to have a full name.

Any who, as I type this most glorious blog post, we are at the scene of the occurrence of many cases of MBD – yes you observant and faithful blog readers, I am currently at the library, library west to be precise.

Let me set the scene. We are in religion class… naturally not one student is doing the allocated work except for the stereotypical nerd.

So as you’ve probably picked up by now, I’m not writing all of this post. Giuseppe is informing me that she’s already typed that. I DON’T CARE. She’s also berating me for my slow typing. Well, it was fine for you before.

I wasn’t berating you about your slow typing. I was merely voicing out aloud an observation that I had made. Is this a terrorist action? I think not.

It was beration, pure and simple. So yes, this is an act of procrastination. But it’s this or Googling zoophilia.

Don’t judge us kind people of the blogosphere. It was Gwen who brought it up in the first place. We’re just curious.

That makes it sound weird. We were looking up Utilitarianism, which is what we’re supposed to be doing, clicked on a link to Peter Singer, and from there to zoophilia. I’m still trying to clean my mind.

Moving on swiftly from the topic of zoophilia . . .

Stop taking over my blog or I’ll be forced to write it with Gwen or Chinny instead.

Never Leslie, you’ll never be rid of me. So dear blog readers, let me tell you a story of

At this point, Giuseppe paused for a long, long time, trying to remember the story she wanted to tell. I got bored and took the keyboard back.

Giuseppe has run out of ideas. Who else thinks her posts have a slightly patronising tone to them? Anyway, to move on to a subject I always find it easy to type freely about, Marie-Clare. I’ve planned her life story. She will marry 25, they will move to a caravan park and jknhbgv

If you want Marie-Clare's complete life story, read the previous post. I don't get much of a chance to type it out in this conversation. NB: Whenever you read nonsense words, such as the last word of the above paragraph, it means that one of us has wrested the keyboard from the other and begun hitting the keyboard randomly. Although I cannot claim to be completely innocent, it was mostly Giuseppe.

Alright, I’ve thought of something interesting to tell our dear readers. Including Leslie M Harper, the media students of this fine school are up to something. There is an evil and slightly disturbing scheme cooking up in the cauldron of our school.  This all started a couple of weeks ago, when tbvr

I didn’t know, when I agreed to write this post with you, you would start wrestling the keyboard from me. As I was saying. They will go to a caravan park, where Marie-Clare will work in the shop and 25 will mine for coal. All right, Giuseppe is complaining that I have fractured her finger (I had to get the keyboard away from her somehow) so she can have the keyboard back.

This all started a couple of weeks ago when

You’ve already done that bit.

You interrupted me mid-sentence. I was walking innocently and nonchalantly to Maths, when suddenly I hear a “Get out my way Giuseppe!” from Diamond. (He’s this guy in our year that I rarely talk to.) I wouldn’t have ignored him, if not for the fact that he was wearing a dress and a blonde wig and was running around holding a bunch of balloons. And then I see... oh crap, what did I see? I’ve forgotten. The point is, that the Media students of this fine school, with Leslie herself included, are dabbling in some cross-dressing and other kinds of impure activities.

That was the worst story telling of ALL TIME. Anyway, very few of us are cross-dressing. Most of us are just clown-dressing. It’s for the films we’re making. Giuseppe, I’m a slow typer. Get over it.

Well unless Diamond was doing his best Dustin Hoffman in Tootsie impression, I have no idea what you crazy messed-up Media students are doing. Us Art students on the other hand, are very civilised. In a typical lesson, Bob Dylan and

Giuseppe, you don’t have the right to give nicknames. That right resides with me and me alone. I have no idea what Tootsie is and I don’/]hrtbgynuh

Bob Dylan and Chowder tried to pull me away from the computer by the pulling on my wheelie chair, and then they proceeded to attempt to bind me to the chair with masking tape when I resisted. I pleaded for Shoelace to save me, but at no a*

Good luck getting Shoelace to do anything.

As I was about to get to before Leslie viciously pulled the keyboard from my grasp. As I was saying, I pleaded foe Shoelace to save me, but at no avail, becauser all she did was sit on my lap and rock back and forth while yelling. This didn’t do much except for amuse Bob Dylan and Chowder even more.

It certainly sounds pretty amusing. I would, however, like to make a point. You were trying to imply that Art students are CIVILISED compared to Media students. I think you just lost yourself the argument.

I was not attempting to be logical, but rather cynical. But thanks for that, you only had to dumb down the readers so that they now feel like retarded imbeciles.

What?

Anyway, those are the brilliant adventures of Leslie M. Harper and Giuseppe L Schneider in this boring, but productive RAVE Lesson.

First: still don’t get what you meant above. Second: I’m not sure they can be classified as ‘adventures’. For you, maybe, but none of these adventures involve me. Therefore, I resent you attaching my name to them.

You are a Media student are you not? Yes you are. My life is much more thrilling than yours Leslie, for one, I don’t spend entire weekends designing coats of arms instead of doing my English oral.

I did that English oral! I got a good mark! Anyway, it was less than an hour. I didn’t spend the whole weekend on my coat of arms. Not like you, who devotes great amounts of time to painting pictures of the sons of dead (albeit awesome) celebrities.

That is more productive, and I did it for you as a Christmas present. Po0/;

I swear that the last word above was made accidentally when I pulled the keyboard away. I mean, the keys are pretty near each other. Anyway, at this point we stopped for a good few minutes to laugh.

We thought I’d broken the keyboard there for a second, but luckily, no. Hopefully it still looks like we’re working. A

Well I was going to give it to you, but if you’re going to be like that I think that I might just decorate my own walls with it.

You do that.

Any who, great people of this blogosphere, the bell is about to go. Au revoir fair people. And good night, and good luck.

It’s my blog so I get the last say. I don’t normally have to say ‘goodbye’. People just generally know to stop reading when the post ends. And you accuse ME of ‘dumbing it down’?

ANU J WSBYV I’m just being polite.

I HAVE THE LAST WORD.

And thus a RAVE lesson was ended. What Giuseppe failed to take into account in this instance was that it is MY blog. I always get the last word.

Goodnight.