Les pommes

Every school day for lunch I have 1 green apple. I like green apples. With a green apple you know exactly what you are going to get. The apple is a bit sour and a bit sweet. Then when I bite into it I always spray a little bit of the juice everywhere so everyone thinks that I'm spitting, whereas really I'm just producing and appley mist. With each bite you can hear than immensely satisfying crunch. My maths teacher at Marsden said that she hates the crunching of apples. I don't understand that (as well as 50% of the maths lingo that comes out of her mouth). It's a sound of accomplishment you've broken through that tough skin and into the juicy interior. A green apple is reliable.

Red apples are different on the outside one may seem all red and rosy yet inside it tastes like one of my experimental cookie recipes gone horribly, horribly wrong. Having said that it could be sweet and juicy and everything nice. You just don't know.

So why have I pondered the deep philosophical message behind my choice of a green apple over a red one? Because I was on the bus eating my green apple pondering such things since my mind didn't have anything else to ponder except for a magic medicine to make me feel better. That would be nice. I'm unfortunately sick and of course that message which was drummed into my skull of 'must not miss school' keeps me there. I haven't had a sick day this year...even though I have been sick.

That's all sort of rambley finally I shall say unfortunately my discoveries will have to stop being daily due to the ever prevalent issues of the mocks...ah gotta love 'em.