I awake to the knowledge every morning knowing that I will have to do dumb, blind, meaningless reports for school. It’s a terrible, terrible feeling, and a silly reminder of how broken the American school system is. Reports? Why don’t we try real world experience.
reports are boring and they require researcing stuff then writing an essay or a page about the facts that you have found. i dont really know what to write other than reports are a pain and i hate them. i hated writing them for history class,
books
business
writing
medical
serious
informational
educational
professional
governmental
important
reporting
reporters
news
broadcast
weather
information
serious
suck balls because they take for ever and then you’re graded upon them and then it judges you and who you are from the few words you write and it doesnt give you enough time to actually express yourself because its what you excpect your prof to read and want to like your writing and then you’re not being true to yourself and who wants that? no one of course.
Looking out the window,
I see a tree.
It blurs into the horizon
on the hilltop,
almost luring my eye
away from it,
gesturing towards the valley
or the prairie side.
But I focus on that tree,
branching out like gold leaves,
roots extending into the ground,
connecting to other roots,
other bushes,
creating a burrow
for the ants,
and food for the algae,
leading on endlessly
to more life.
Darling, you’re a zygote; barely old enough to resemble a sea monkey much less take my rectal temperature. No. Go back out and give my chart to an adult. Try not to trip over your umbilical cord on the way out.
The word conjures up thoughts of book reports I had to do in grade school. Books that I had to read but didn’t really want to. Maybe that’s why I can’t read a book today unless it absolutely hooks me from the start.
I like writing about these. They’re usually for school and I get graded on them. Sometimes I get report cards. They have my grades. So I get report cards on my reports. Crazy, huh? Or sometimes they’re on the news. News reports. Sometimes I like doing these things…reports.
ugh. don’t even get me started… well, i guess i have to … thats the whole point of this website right? Well anyways, reports are awful.. Unless you’re really passionate about the topic you’re reporting on, goodluck finishing it. Goodness gracious. They take forever and most teachers/ bosses don’t give you positive feedback. I mean, if you’re going to give me a hardtime about getting it done, the least you could do is say “hey, good work” three words. thats it. three words for 10,000 words. Reports are the offspring of teachers or bosses that are too lazy to think up of something more beneficial to our time. For any teacher or boss reading this, you don’t want to admit it but.. when you gotta get a grade or a performance rating in, what is asked of us? Thats right, a report.
I wrote a report on a ferris wheel once. It showed me that I could beat my fear, and it might end up being something really beautiful, like the view from a ferris wheel at night. I don’t like writing reports, but I like to discover things about myself. I am brave.
ugh. don’t even get me started… well, i guess i have to … thats the whole point of this website right? Well anyways, reports are awful.. Unless you’re really passionate about the topic you’re reporting on, goodluck finishing it. Goodness gracious. They take forever and most teachers/ bosses don’t give you positive feedback. I mean, if you’re going to give me a hardtime about getting it done, the least you could do is say “hey, good work” three words. thats it. three words for 10,000 words. Gosh.
Don’t think. Just write. Reports from reporters, reports from students. In the end, a report will satisfy. Where is the end? Reporters report that the end will be after the middle. Others report that we are currently in the middle. So you tell me, where is the end? Report to your local army to find out.
Oh god I hate writing reports. The need to fill space to meet a teacher’s requirements is ridiculous when you could just state your point in one sentence, a couple words maybe, and possibly some back-up statements. Why should I have to stretch it out to a few hundred words?
reports are ridiculous, and useful at the same time. reports in school are boring, and unnecessary, and time consuming. just let me read about the reports in the news, and let me have a professional do the work for me, I’m 20! reports can be taken in any context. reports can be gossip…news, factual, hospital dates. to me reports are negative.
in school we would always have to give reports and i hate them. i didnt do horribly at them but yet i still didnt like them. i never really thought i met the expectations of the teachers and always got stuff wrong. maybe im dumb.. i dont know a lot which is sad, thats why i think my reports are all bullshit blahh
I hate writing reports on stupid things. Like honestly! I have to “report” about giraffes mating in the tundra? No, that’s not important! Crime is. Love is. Fuck you reports, you can kiss my ass! Ya heard?
I can tell you everything I ever learned. Or at least once i could. I could tell you every word of everything I wrote. Now I can’t even tell you where my keys are. Damn. This really sucks. I can’t even remember what I wrote in my Louis Leakey report.
“Reports are in!” she cried.
We gathered around anxiously, staring at the papers she clutched. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I heard someone else praying beside me. Those papers contained the future.
Recent reports have been released in the newspapers and the local news station about the peculiar weather incident that occurred last night: broccoli was reported to have fallen like rain from the sky. People stayed inside to avoid getting hit in the head by the green vegetables.
Report to the office. Report card. Write a report. Reporting for duty. The word report is losing it’s meaning to me as I type. The report doesn’t rhyme with many things… Snort. Short. Hmph.
Every year, that day would come where they handed out reports. I dreaded taking mine home. Oh well, it was better than the end of the year when they mailed them, always taking you by surprise when they arrived.
Glad I don’t get reports any more.
The reports sat on the desk after I filled them out, and I looked over them with my coworker.
“Is it really necessary to have done all this paperwork?” she asked.
I shrugged.
“They wanted an accident report filed.”
She shook her head and rolled her eyes.
“It was a RAT for chrissake.”
“Mouse,” I corrected. “It’s name was Jenny.”
Drowned in the pool, and I gave it a name, a soc-number and a permanent home address, along with “fatal injury” victim status; lifeguarding was interesting, sometimes.
hello, I’m not really sure what to say. I really like this guy named Jack. He’s great. He’s all I ever think about…. I wish he would ask me out… Hm. I just thought about Snow White and poison apples for some reason. Weird. Gahh. I’m sooooo bored… I wish Darian would text me or something…. I miss my friends. Being sick today sucked. I’m like, having hot flashes. BOREDOM… Ohhey, a new text message. It’s from Jack. It says “we both need to get netter lol.” ….I think he means better… Lol. Silly Jack(: He’s sooo cute.
If i had one thing to write about reports it’s that they’re completely obnoxious. It’s nothing that’s going to help people, I guess it is but it’s absolutely pointless to children my age. It’s completely fucked. I hate them, they’re a hassle. I’m a singer, I don’t need this. At all, no one does. We don’t need the stress not in any way shape or form.
reports, the basis of school. stupidly, thats what they always make you do, write reeports. Why? They don;t make any sense to me. If you were a confident teacher, you would just assume we understood and knew what you taught us. But noooo you make us write a report about it, i see how it is.
Reports. The process of telling someone knowledge that you posses that others desire to possess. Reporting a crime. Reporting an engagement. Reporting a death. Remember report cards? How small they now seem…
are hard to write but once you start writing then all the ideas flow into your head and onto the page and its the most exhilirating feeling ever. i liked writing reports in high school but college made me rethink my writing and my passion for it. its always been a passion of mine, but now i struggle to even write about this, im pausing not sure what to do or where this will go. is it just a waste of time? maybe so…
“Due today, due today,” blared the loudspeaker/machine/transistor radio. Keldry only groaned into the niche of her elbow.
“Don’t tell me – ” she began.
It was true, though. She’d forgotten the due date.
Things you write in grade school are called reports. Book reports, reports on George Washington. I miss reports. They were so much better than 20 page long research papers, lab write-ups, and huge powerpoint presentations.
really hard and annoying and I don’t like them…ug…they are such a burden….anything but them! Ug! I hate college reports…they suck even more than the ones i use to have to do. Angst. I could go the rest of my life without ever wanting to do one again. ever. fucking reports
The weather reports in Southeastern Saskatchewan never failed to amaze her. Twinkling snowflakes falling from a -40 sky one minute, and roasting in the sweltering hot sun the next. What next?
The reports that came about from the incident stemmed from an innocent bystander, who was making her way out of the building when she saw the two men talking. I asked the woman, who prefers to be left anonymous, what exactly it was that she saw.
shapeshifting, churning in a flurry of hearsay and metamorphosis, information, though plentiful was muddled- the facts themselves were sparse- undoubtedly, with enough time and dedication, like a pioneering prospector sifting patiently for paydirt in the gold rush days, these jumbled reports would bear the hearty nuggets of the scandals core, bringing fortune to the hack who could make the shit stick and disgrace to the unwitting victim.
They take so much time. They take over my life. Just write and write, more analysis, more analysis. Word count. Darn, not enough words. Now what?
I awake to the knowledge every morning knowing that I will have to do dumb, blind, meaningless reports for school. It’s a terrible, terrible feeling, and a silly reminder of how broken the American school system is. Reports? Why don’t we try real world experience.
grey stone
cold day
office hours
lousy pay
concrete walls
corporate lies
wasted years
concrete lives
reports are boring and they require researcing stuff then writing an essay or a page about the facts that you have found. i dont really know what to write other than reports are a pain and i hate them. i hated writing them for history class,
Black….White………….details, explaining, listing, identifying the boring details in minutae.
Reading a report on your health is like reading a report that tells you, “no, I know you THINK you’re doing well. But you’re dying” Shit.
books
business
writing
medical
serious
informational
educational
professional
governmental
important
reporting
reporters
news
broadcast
weather
information
serious
suck balls because they take for ever and then you’re graded upon them and then it judges you and who you are from the few words you write and it doesnt give you enough time to actually express yourself because its what you excpect your prof to read and want to like your writing and then you’re not being true to yourself and who wants that? no one of course.
Looking out the window,
I see a tree.
It blurs into the horizon
on the hilltop,
almost luring my eye
away from it,
gesturing towards the valley
or the prairie side.
But I focus on that tree,
branching out like gold leaves,
roots extending into the ground,
connecting to other roots,
other bushes,
creating a burrow
for the ants,
and food for the algae,
leading on endlessly
to more life.
This is something we have to do. Not something we always want to do. It’s needed. But it fills too much time, must be done efficiently.
Darling, you’re a zygote; barely old enough to resemble a sea monkey much less take my rectal temperature. No. Go back out and give my chart to an adult. Try not to trip over your umbilical cord on the way out.
The word conjures up thoughts of book reports I had to do in grade school. Books that I had to read but didn’t really want to. Maybe that’s why I can’t read a book today unless it absolutely hooks me from the start.
1reports = Recording Empirical Proceedings Offering Realistic True Service
I like writing about these. They’re usually for school and I get graded on them. Sometimes I get report cards. They have my grades. So I get report cards on my reports. Crazy, huh? Or sometimes they’re on the news. News reports. Sometimes I like doing these things…reports.
ugh. don’t even get me started… well, i guess i have to … thats the whole point of this website right? Well anyways, reports are awful.. Unless you’re really passionate about the topic you’re reporting on, goodluck finishing it. Goodness gracious. They take forever and most teachers/ bosses don’t give you positive feedback. I mean, if you’re going to give me a hardtime about getting it done, the least you could do is say “hey, good work” three words. thats it. three words for 10,000 words. Reports are the offspring of teachers or bosses that are too lazy to think up of something more beneficial to our time. For any teacher or boss reading this, you don’t want to admit it but.. when you gotta get a grade or a performance rating in, what is asked of us? Thats right, a report.
I wrote a report on a ferris wheel once. It showed me that I could beat my fear, and it might end up being something really beautiful, like the view from a ferris wheel at night. I don’t like writing reports, but I like to discover things about myself. I am brave.
ugh. don’t even get me started… well, i guess i have to … thats the whole point of this website right? Well anyways, reports are awful.. Unless you’re really passionate about the topic you’re reporting on, goodluck finishing it. Goodness gracious. They take forever and most teachers/ bosses don’t give you positive feedback. I mean, if you’re going to give me a hardtime about getting it done, the least you could do is say “hey, good work” three words. thats it. three words for 10,000 words. Gosh.
Don’t think. Just write. Reports from reporters, reports from students. In the end, a report will satisfy. Where is the end? Reporters report that the end will be after the middle. Others report that we are currently in the middle. So you tell me, where is the end? Report to your local army to find out.
Oh god I hate writing reports. The need to fill space to meet a teacher’s requirements is ridiculous when you could just state your point in one sentence, a couple words maybe, and possibly some back-up statements. Why should I have to stretch it out to a few hundred words?
reports are ridiculous, and useful at the same time. reports in school are boring, and unnecessary, and time consuming. just let me read about the reports in the news, and let me have a professional do the work for me, I’m 20! reports can be taken in any context. reports can be gossip…news, factual, hospital dates. to me reports are negative.
in school we would always have to give reports and i hate them. i didnt do horribly at them but yet i still didnt like them. i never really thought i met the expectations of the teachers and always got stuff wrong. maybe im dumb.. i dont know a lot which is sad, thats why i think my reports are all bullshit blahh
people write reports a lot on papers like science, or current events or other various topics.
I hate writing reports on stupid things. Like honestly! I have to “report” about giraffes mating in the tundra? No, that’s not important! Crime is. Love is. Fuck you reports, you can kiss my ass! Ya heard?
I can tell you everything I ever learned. Or at least once i could. I could tell you every word of everything I wrote. Now I can’t even tell you where my keys are. Damn. This really sucks. I can’t even remember what I wrote in my Louis Leakey report.
“Reports are in!” she cried.
We gathered around anxiously, staring at the papers she clutched. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I heard someone else praying beside me. Those papers contained the future.
Recent reports have been released in the newspapers and the local news station about the peculiar weather incident that occurred last night: broccoli was reported to have fallen like rain from the sky. People stayed inside to avoid getting hit in the head by the green vegetables.
Report to the office. Report card. Write a report. Reporting for duty. The word report is losing it’s meaning to me as I type. The report doesn’t rhyme with many things… Snort. Short. Hmph.
Every year, that day would come where they handed out reports. I dreaded taking mine home. Oh well, it was better than the end of the year when they mailed them, always taking you by surprise when they arrived.
Glad I don’t get reports any more.
The reports sat on the desk after I filled them out, and I looked over them with my coworker.
“Is it really necessary to have done all this paperwork?” she asked.
I shrugged.
“They wanted an accident report filed.”
She shook her head and rolled her eyes.
“It was a RAT for chrissake.”
“Mouse,” I corrected. “It’s name was Jenny.”
Drowned in the pool, and I gave it a name, a soc-number and a permanent home address, along with “fatal injury” victim status; lifeguarding was interesting, sometimes.
hello, I’m not really sure what to say. I really like this guy named Jack. He’s great. He’s all I ever think about…. I wish he would ask me out… Hm. I just thought about Snow White and poison apples for some reason. Weird. Gahh. I’m sooooo bored… I wish Darian would text me or something…. I miss my friends. Being sick today sucked. I’m like, having hot flashes. BOREDOM… Ohhey, a new text message. It’s from Jack. It says “we both need to get netter lol.” ….I think he means better… Lol. Silly Jack(: He’s sooo cute.
If i had one thing to write about reports it’s that they’re completely obnoxious. It’s nothing that’s going to help people, I guess it is but it’s absolutely pointless to children my age. It’s completely fucked. I hate them, they’re a hassle. I’m a singer, I don’t need this. At all, no one does. We don’t need the stress not in any way shape or form.
reports, the basis of school. stupidly, thats what they always make you do, write reeports. Why? They don;t make any sense to me. If you were a confident teacher, you would just assume we understood and knew what you taught us. But noooo you make us write a report about it, i see how it is.
Reports. The process of telling someone knowledge that you posses that others desire to possess. Reporting a crime. Reporting an engagement. Reporting a death. Remember report cards? How small they now seem…
are hard to write but once you start writing then all the ideas flow into your head and onto the page and its the most exhilirating feeling ever. i liked writing reports in high school but college made me rethink my writing and my passion for it. its always been a passion of mine, but now i struggle to even write about this, im pausing not sure what to do or where this will go. is it just a waste of time? maybe so…
“Due today, due today,” blared the loudspeaker/machine/transistor radio. Keldry only groaned into the niche of her elbow.
“Don’t tell me – ” she began.
It was true, though. She’d forgotten the due date.
Things you write in grade school are called reports. Book reports, reports on George Washington. I miss reports. They were so much better than 20 page long research papers, lab write-ups, and huge powerpoint presentations.
really hard and annoying and I don’t like them…ug…they are such a burden….anything but them! Ug! I hate college reports…they suck even more than the ones i use to have to do. Angst. I could go the rest of my life without ever wanting to do one again. ever. fucking reports
The weather reports in Southeastern Saskatchewan never failed to amaze her. Twinkling snowflakes falling from a -40 sky one minute, and roasting in the sweltering hot sun the next. What next?
The reports that came about from the incident stemmed from an innocent bystander, who was making her way out of the building when she saw the two men talking. I asked the woman, who prefers to be left anonymous, what exactly it was that she saw.
shapeshifting, churning in a flurry of hearsay and metamorphosis, information, though plentiful was muddled- the facts themselves were sparse- undoubtedly, with enough time and dedication, like a pioneering prospector sifting patiently for paydirt in the gold rush days, these jumbled reports would bear the hearty nuggets of the scandals core, bringing fortune to the hack who could make the shit stick and disgrace to the unwitting victim.