123 Main Street
Penticton, British Columbia,
V2A 3W1

May 25th, 2011

Central High School
 123 Main Street,
 Sportstown, British Columbia,
 V2A 1W3.



Dear Mr. Kleats

Hello, i am Vincent's father, James Curtis and it has come to my attention and as well as my concern that your coaching style isn't working to the best of it's possibilities. i do appreciate the time you put into coaching the boys. But the other parents and I wanted to bring this to your attention.

to begin with i find that the practices are not arranged in the best manner, its hard to plan out a practice drill but i don't see much planning be




Paragraph 1



Paragraph 2



Sincerely,

I'm so far away from my car

Many miles away students and teachers park, to attend a school of road raged aggressive simpletons. The impeccable distance from our automobiles is so great that if we gaze from the roof tops for miles, our cars would still be too far away. A parking lot sounds like a good solution to this outrageous circumstance but sad to say we already have two of them.

Self centered grade 11's who just got there N's  take up 90% of the so called student parking lot leaving the graduating class to fight over the remaining parking stalls. Why don't we get there earlier you might say, well the last guy to do that had his car crushed by a 2 foot raised ford F350. The idea of calling the insurance company would just end up with the principle telling you to park on the street. which results in being late for class because with all the time it would take to parallel park, wait for traffic to stop to get out and begin the 1 hour trek of walking to class.

Ive found "Albertine trucks" have become a style in our school. You know the ones with four doors, a long box and it being raised up 2 or 4 feet usually being driving by a single person blasting there cars stereo. which wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't a safety hazard in those oh so small parking spots built for anorexic vehicles. but the duel rear wheels of theses trucks makes me actually wanna park on the street for the well being of my car...

not finished

Her Ghost In The Fog

 Cradle Of Filth "Her Ghost In the Fog"

"The Moon, she hangs like a cruel portrait
Soft winds whisper the bidding of trees
As this tragedy starts with a shattered glass heart
And the Midnightmare trampling of dreams
But oh, no tears please
Fear and pain may accompany Death
But it is desire that shepherds it's certainty
As We shall see..."

She was divinity's creature
That kissed the cold mirrors
A Queen of Snows
Far beyond compare
Lips attuned to symmetry
Sought Her everywhere
Dark liqoured eyes
An Arabian nightmare...

She shone on watercolours
Of my pondlife as pearl
Until those who couldn't have Her
Cut Her free of this World

That fateful Eve when...
The trees stank of sunset and camphor
Their lanterns chased phantoms and threw
An inquisitive glance, like the shadows they cast
On my love picking rue by the light of the moon

Putting reason to flight
Or to death as their way
They crept through woods mesmerized
By the taffeta Ley
Of Her hips that held sway
Over all they surveyed
Save a mist on the rise
(A deadly blessing to hide)
Her ghost in the fog

They raped left...
(Five men of God)
...Her ghost in the fog

Dawn discovered Her there
Beneath the Cedar's stare
Silk dress torn, Her raven hair
Flown to gown Her beauty bared
Was starred with frost, I knew Her lost
I wept 'til tears crept back to prayer

She'd sworn Me vows in fragrant blood
"Never to part
Lest jealous Heaven stole our hearts"

Then this I screamed:
"Come back to Me for
I was born in love with thee
So why should fate stand in between?"

And as I drowned Her gentle curves
With dreams unsaid and final words
I espied a gleam trodden to earth
The Church bell tower key...

The village mourned her by the by
For She'd been a witch
Their Men had longed to try
And I broke under Christ seeking guilty signs
My tortured soul on ice

A Queen of snow
Far beyond compare
Lips attuned to symmetry
Sought Her everywhere
Trappistine eyes
An Arabian nightmare...

She was Ersulie possessed
Of a milky white skin
My porcelain Yin
A graceful Angel of Sin

And so for Her...
The breeze stank of sunset and camphor
My lantern chased Her phantom and blew
Their Chapel ablaze and all locked in to a pain
Best reserved for judgement that their bible construed...

Putting reason to flight
Or to flame unashamed
I swept form cries
Mesmerized
By the taffeta Ley
Or Her hips that held sway
Over all those at bay
Save a mist on the rise
A final blessing to hide
Her ghost in the fog

And I embraced
Where lovers rot...
Her ghost in the fog

Her ghost in the fog

Cradle Of Filth's music is known for imagery and epic tales. This song is one for sure and it’s full of diamonds in imagery.

“Soft winds whisper the bidding of trees
As this tragedy starts with a shattered glass heart”

Not just imagery but personification like soft wind doesn’t whisper and hearts made aren’t glass.  

This song is a true and tragic song written

It’s about a girl killed and raped by five men.

Her ghost stuck in a fog follows him

And there’s nothing he can do but admire her.

Why... ?

A cold chilling breeze, wisps by on a dead street. darkness surrounding 

"WHY!" screamed young Robert Breaking the silence.

"Theirs nothing you can do you must follow me" spoke a grumbled voice from the shadows

Robert frightfully asked "who are you! what do you what!"

"Well." pondered the stranger "I'm someone you can trust more then anyone right now."

Robert agreed with out ease scared of the possible doom in this tragic event. "We must go now."

Robert arose and followed him in to the darkness. "Who are you" young Robert retorted "are you one of those gang members?"

"No... I'm ... you."

"that's impossible, how?" questioned young Robert.

"I'm here to save your life." 

I am the Egg Man

 I inspire millions to get through depressing ethical times, usually African citizens in poverty. Ive swam to Japan  from Mexico and got bored nine tenths of the way there and decided to go back, then go for a night of endless shrimp at red lobster and end up putting them out of business. I am a malevolent chess adversary. I don't get zits. My pet Raptor was created by a small fossil, a piece of dental floss, a a leprechauns hat and a chickens egg. He eats expensive literature.


I am the one who invented Starbucks, i am the one who decided the Obama would win, I'm the one who told Yoko Ono to stop singing and If i had a plane i would find Bin Laden. I invented a shoe that only costs 5 cents to make and I'm gonna sell them for 4 and i told the marketing team money inst everything. I made lemonade that's sugar free but tastes amazing  that will grow back hair, make you lose weight, fixes intimacy issues and all proceeds go to blind orphans. Ive wrote many great articles for Time magazine, the New Yorker and Cosmo, all of them on how to make the world better for you and anyone you can think of.


I am the egg man, they are the egg men.I am the walrus, goo goo g'joob. don't believe me ask Paul.i wrote come together and i know 1 and 1 and 1 is three. while i write this i get an email from my secretary all of the inanest framed men in prison have been set free due to my amazing essay skills. still don't believe I'm the egg man ask Ringo i helped him with octopus' garden I'm one of his friends to come and see. I'm a ruthless band manager i can get any gig no matter how bad you are i could even get Mr. van camp a show and that's no picnic.

 All of this and Ive never been to collage

“Grad Year” Those 2 Little Words

Graduation year. While typing those two words, I am reminded of elementary school when 'graduation' is still light years away. In fact, it still feels light years away. 5 more months and it still has not clicked that once I walk across that stage, I am a young adult, I am independent and responsible for my future. I expected grad year to be true to all of the cliches, the last days of high school, a year of memories and sentimental things, "ruling the school" so to speak. It is not at all like that, even though it is the last year of school, it is still school, the daily grind, studying, friends, and spending way too much money at caf. A change that I have noticed, however, is that I've somehow matured more in the past year than in my entire life, and while I was told that someday this would happen, I expected it to remain true to the theatrics and dramatization of the movies. A climax, a sudden realization, no, it has simply felt comfortable. Graduation year is not at all what I expected, it is the usual, and it is the end of my four year home, and maybe that is a little sentimental.