'Gold always believe in your soul, you've got the power to know' sang Spandau Ballet, JPJ Sanders replied with 'yes you do, but the government needs the gold and they have the power to melt you down'

8.45 i burst through the double doors that prevent me from entering the sports hall, swish my hair to the left. push someone from their chair and replace them, 'that's my seat' i say. i'm in the zone, pencil case out, offend ruffian behind me for distracting me. do the usual pre exam prank 'any tracing paper?' i ask (on Wednesday before the exam i made everyone panic by asking whether anyone had colouring pencils my associate Mr Meredith panicked to the point of buying some) a man of supposed power who copies my powerful strides bounds in shouts at people to get ready. 'time for business to commence' i announce. there is a variety of colour a different shade for each emotion being felt, there's a red tinge for those that aren't sure they've revised enough, a green tinge if you are regretting not doing any, a pink shade if you've revised but nervous about filling your potential and me my pink face with red blotches evidence that i am raring to go a expression of power spread accross my face LET'S GET TO WORK! question after question is answered my right arm stretched out to release tension in it stating it's intent with a characteristic click. one and a half hours later majority of questions answered few mistakes made. 1 down 2 to go, the next exam on the agenda is philosophy and rel_g_on (that word will not be mentioned on here) i look around the room apprehensively of the sights that will greet me some people of potential revising ready for the challenge. see i don't call an exam a exam they are a reflection of my genius reflecting on my competance, proof that i can run this interesting island. i just loathe the messages of people saying that they are going to fail. if you say you are going to fail you will accept failure. you take my approach of telling the world what a genius you are you will achieve because you are attempting to overexceed which enables you to achieve or overachieve. like i put in my P+R exam we are all equal and individuals therefore possess the trait to achieve therefore i declare war against those among us who do not believe in their own potential. //

i do not see the point at approaching things that have a potential impact on your career and the rest of your life negatively it is stupid and shows that you are insecure, you don't know that you've failed till i tell you dressed as Dame Edna singing every mother wants a boy like elton in the chord of F. what's the point of being negative, immature, nervous, not believing, childish, achievement abolishing, determination demolishing, glass half empty, having a black zebra with white stripes rather than a white zebra with black stripes, another brick chipped out of the big societies wall, a negative influencing, miserable, moaning, complaining, whining, bemusing, waste of potential talent, time wasting, demotivating and worst of all future squanderer because if you are like that doing a exam where your mark is 'g_d given' what are you going to be like when you have to meet a deadline or work under pressure when there is a lack of staff or a increase in work. that attitude makes you unemployable in my opinion making you another statistic, while the people with a positive attitude calculate the statistics you are part of. people with a negative attitude are never noticed they are one of many mindless minitiuares, while positive people are noticed due to their magnificent, marvellous minority. as a result i need an army of positive people to put an end to this negative attitude! //

people often think i don't like them. this is mostly true however i'm proud of some of you, you've managed to achieve things that have surprised me, after that there is nothing to make you feel small. it may have been luck that has left you standing tall, however you are worth a peice of gold, therefore you should believe in your soul as when you were born you were given the power to know that you have the potential to be indestructable if you always believe in your soul because you will earn gold. i know that through fighting this war their positivity is bound to return, through there negativity i'm sure there's something i could have learned but we all know that i'm indestructible as are you. we've all got the power to achieve great things through our positivity so you really should like Spandau Ballet believe in your soul and all will be golden. apart from the fact that the government may want to include you as a economic asset, but your indestructable so it shouldn't harm your positive attitude.

'love is a burning thing, and it makes a fiery ring' sang Johnny Cash, JPJ Sanders replied with 'does it go in one direction as well?'

i live my life by routine get up at same time, have tea at the same time, leave school at the same time depending on whether i decide to put Mr Turner's saddle the wrong way round or whether Lord Allen my future lawyer decides he wants to stop flirting with his women wanderers or whether i'm talking to one of my angels. so when i get home, had my argument with my grandmother about the days delinquents, silhouette my way up the stupidly shaped stairs, tear my superb sports tie from the restrictions of my collar. perch perfectly on my navy blue office chair. turn on the computer shout at it to work for a couple of minutes, once loaded it's onto the internet to yahoo to see who's created mischief in the world. today when my yahoo page loaded up i was surprised to find out about the love between a television presenter of a fixed talent show called the extra factor and a boy who needs a haircut who's part of a boy band who all have beautiful bodies (but they don't have the body of a buddhist god like me) who unfortunately are unable to sing in tune or dance well. the headline was something like 'Flack 32 defends Styles 17 relationship' 32-17=15 before reading the article i thought 15 times really is a on and off companionship, so i read the article and as i was reading i thought what a waste of time, a article about a 32 year old woman loving a teenage heart throb whats the problem with that. what thats done is inspired young male adults to see that there are more fabulous females than the 80 in our year and the 90 in the year below, maybe we should make an effort to explore the female possibilities the world provides us with (Mr E. Jones this does not mean you can try and kiss your sociology teacher though) if there are 7 billion people in the universe or 2 billion once the Denver airport conspiracies come true. as a result i declare war against people who have problems with love. // (means paragraph, but my web designer Mr Downes has broken paragraphs) i for one am not immune from problems with love, i've never ever had a girlfriend and until recently never really had any wonderfully womenly associates. yes i can see why one direction fans have a problem with it, i would if i was female and tone death, Mr Styles is meant to wake up next to them after a night of singing, dancing and whatever the BFG blows through his trumpet at them. but this whole thing is unnecessary, heartbreaking for teenage males future wives, upsetting, confusing if you thought he was on the bus to Brighton, bewildering as Mr Styles needs a haircut more than Mr Butt did, inspirational for male adolescents, educational for fabulous females of all ages, over hyped, socially satisfying, waste of social networks,soul destroying for middle aged males, question arousing, greatly gross, amazingly awesome for the likes of Mr Fegan and Mr Mills Mcgowen, musically mythed, emotively engaging, ferociously fantasying, dream destroying, lazy, poor, waste of time that could be spent fighting other wars (all 21 at the moment), invasion of privacy, demotivating story of what in previous societies be a perfectly natural occurrance although the father of the female may have had more of a say, but we are all aware of how useless some fathers can be or is that just men north of Cheshire and the Sanders males who are from more North than Cheshire. i'm going to be rather hypocritical (just one of many great qualities i possess) and say that when it comes to love between celebrities the people of the middle and working classes do not have the contacts to be able to splurge their opinions over the internet informing me of their escapades do they not know there is a war going on between me and everything i don't get a mention once and i'm sorting out society single handedly here through insulting almost everybody on this planet surely thats more important than where a member of a boyband that is a disgrace to music sticks his didgeridoo once the light goes off (i think) see what we need to win this war against celebrity love and the way it is exposed is a real life controversy involving someone posessing someone of great stature as well as a attractive mature female for the male to fall in love. to win this war i need a male of great stature with working testicles (which rules me out) to realise that once the touch paper has been lighted (meeting the attractive mature female) that love is a burning thing, which makes a fiery ring (i think that's the making of the wedding ring) as they are bound by their wild desire for this women they do not see where they are walking falling into the ring of fire, as they could only go in one direction trying to emulate Mr Styles they went down, down, down as the hair spray in their hair was flammable the flames went higher. once they have recovered thanks to the great work the members of the public sector employed by the NHS have done recieving satisfaction in the process they realised that love is sweet (depends what they've been eating before they kiss you) when their hearts meets because love turns people into little children, as they were being childish they put more fuel on the fire and the fire went wild. well the moral of that little cameo is treat rumpy bumpy like all exercise and watch what you eat before participating because it gives you heartburn and you could fall over, even so why shouldn't a 17 year old love a 32 year old, in my opinion it's only like two 24 and a 1/2 years old being in love. in theory it should go wrong, but lets leave them too it use them as a experiment for the rest of society, it's Mr Styles he can only go in one direction so why not up. we could learn a lot from music, who knows the ring may be one of gold given in a church; not fiery because he's over exerted himself after a romantic dinner.

'if you don't know me by now, you will never never never know me' sang Simply red, JPJ Sanders replied with 'well after all it's their loss'

Today, we are going to get straight to business, therefore i declare war against people who have failed to embrace the marvellous member of the male race that is the Joyful Perfectionist Jubilantly Superbly Awesomely arrogant Numptyish Daring Eccentric Repulsive human being who Speaks his mind called JPJ Sanders. i admit that throughout my 16 years i have been awkward to spend time with, backstabbing, rude, ignorant of emotions, insulting, obnoxious, quiet, obsessed with the lovely Lance Armstrong, lied to get attention, gossiped, created rumours that have broken friendships, stalked people on facebook, pretended to be someone i'm not in order to be liked (it has backfired people do think that i'm from that manly place Brighton), accussed people of being lesbians to take the heat of me, played hockey so i could learn about wonderful women, played netball so i could learn about wonderful women, wrote a book to tell people how males work, wrote poems to express how i feel, pretended to be in agony to get sympathy from people (not all the time though), tried to tell jokes and even tried to act homosexual and stupid however after 2 and a half years i looked back at what i had achieved. it wasn't a lot. so i thought why care what anyone else thinks if you are at one with yourself and the environment than what else matters who cares if tomorrow never comes you've made the most of today end on a high with a beaming smile. all this is starting to worry me, i think i'm becoming human, compassionate almost becoming emotionally involved in things. i've become vunreble to a socialist guilt trip anyway lets go find a group of people that annoy me and insult them. the question i have often asked myself is how have i finally become pleasant to spend time with i'm meant to be this ogre, who moans about the world threatening to destroy everything in it, sending the Berinsfield Benders off to Saudia Arabia to steal me some oil, i hate children the urchens in a females uturus, loathing people from more north than Chester, i ran over a dogs tail accidentally on my way to school and didn't give it a second thought, i'm blasphemous, arrogant, hide my insecurities my exploiting others, stereotype people (mostly correctly though), remorseless, emotionless, never cared about anyone else other than me, myself and i and the reflection that greets me night and day. has society changed, have i been ignorant, pretending that nothings going on like all other Sanders generations, am i dreaming? NO, i have just decided to be me, the challenged character that lets his impulsiveness take him on a voyage of discovery collating information and data each and every day to finally gather some idea of how to behave without losing associates or alienating the population that has had the good pleasure of being exposed to the future head of the british empire. however there are those among us who are probably making paper airplanes, or creating those stubborn origami folds which are then used as weapons against me, wasting their education, failed to revolutionize with the rest of society throwing food around talking with their mouths full of undigested animal who do not possess a adequate vocablury of the queens english, it is these people who never embrace anyones point of veiw or lifestyle, do not have the intelligence to compromise their opinion in order to improve it by inserting a concept from someone elses point of veiw. as a result i need some troops to give these people a lesson in opening up as well as embracing the world challenges. to embrace the worlds challenges i had to do a few things, insult people so i could judge how they would react, accidentally amuse people with my unorthodox approach to all the things in the modern world, find things i enjoyed and dwelled on why i liked them and compare them to the things i found difficult. observed the way popular people behaved and did the opposite because theres no point in being the same as another person, just because one person wears a girls cardigen doesen't mean you have to you could wear jeans and a rugby shirt. just because your friend walks around in public with slippers on doesen't mean you also have to suffer the same discomfort, colouring them red with oxygenated fluid when i accidentally step on your heal because i can't walk in a straight line like i did to Mr Hopkins in the Netherlands. i hate stereotypes which is why i give them a alliterative insulting name like the Marcham Morons or the Berinsfield benders because how do you expect to be liked if you become part of the crowd no one remembers a normal person you remember the eccentric, slightly strange, perplexed perfectionists of the world. if you do not make an effort to know the character you will never be able to embrace their lifestyle or way of thinking that way you miss out on the times when they stumble through your door uninvited with a bottle of fanta and cup stealing your pringles on the way out, the one liners people blurt out about peoples sports being drowning, the rides home where they nearly fall of a bike doing the ymca, the interestingly inspirational teachings they provide. be open minded want to know otherwise you will not know them now, next week not even next millenium by which time your life has been and gone, your 6 feet under with a 20 foot bronze statue commemorating your life with all your achievements listed on it. you will never never never know them, suffering the lost oppurtunity to make a fantastic friend, a hunk of a husband, a gorgeous responsible godparent and worst of all suffer the loss of entertainment they may provide. after all what have you to lose by getting to know them, what have you to gain by not getting to know them.

'when i was 17 my head was full of brilliant dreams' sang OMD, JPJ Sanders replied with 'when i was 16 my dreams were filled with nightmares full of people from essex being on tv'

the time was 11.27 PM, i had concluded the day in my usual routine. trousers off, go into the bland bathroom (my brother and grandfather who are colour blind chose the colours) admire my awesome aesthetic beauty turn towards the sink, pick up the green toothbrush with JPJ engraved on it (don't want you knowing my first name now do we)put the colgate toothpaste onto the bristles, start the toothpaste commencing the 2 minutes of minty marvel that provide the perfect ending to a intensely filled day, rinsing the cup out 3 times i fill the cup 3/5 full fill my mouth with the woeful water and spit the contents of my mouth out into the sink as powerfully as possible which annoys the members of the Sanders/Hobbs household greatly, now i go to the toilet, take my abdominal cover off (a shirt to the rest of you) revealing the marvellous muscles i possess, tense left bicep, tense right bicep, tense both at same time, tensing the stomach i run my hand over my abdominals 1,2,3,4 damn to short of the 6 pack. that concludes the day all that is left to do is climb into the bemusing bed and wait for my old neighbours creation the BFG (Big Friendly Giant) to blow a dizzying dream through a trumpet into my ear. only last night that didn't happen, while i was sleeping the BFG did a very bad thing and blew the wrong dream into my ear, it was terrible all these celebrities went into the jungle and i only knew 4 of them. one of them was a character from Benidorm, one of them was a radio star from the 80's, one plays a homosexual in coronation street, one of them was a short jockey from Scotland. the other 8 i didn't know which made it all the more terrifying. one had a annoying high voice who kept tapping her collarbone, one had a name that reminded me of sandwiches who i thought was a man, one was a muscular person from that terrible county Essex, one was a former model that i roughly recognised from a program that teaches pykies how to be better pykies, one was a actor from Londonium, one was a actor from awesome America (got to appeal to my global audience), one was a DJ that i knew from my time inhabited in Australia, and another who supposedly ate a hamster, the last one was one that played bass guitar for a band who needed a haircut. i joined these celebrities to tell them where they were going wrong as well as acting as a source of inspiration due to my infamous blogging which had led to me ruling the world, after about an hour i'd had enough of those annoyances and pleaded to go home but they wouldn't let me slowly but surely the others went away till it was me, the muscular man from Essex and the Bass player who needs a haircut from Essex. it was torture all they talked about was bazoombas! it was enough to turn me to Brighton it really was. this has left me scared to go to bed, so because of this mental scarring i declare war against nightmares! since i was a young whipper snapper who's house backed onto the creater of dreams Roald Dahl i have suffered from nightmares in dreams in addition to reality and i hate them there was: yesterdays dream which i've just explained, the one where i had a heart attack, one where i was murdered by a socialist, the one where i was beaten to student voice by miss Shipway and Mr Greenwood, the one where my associate got trapped in a cement mixer, the one where my mother sprayed bleach in my eye, the one where Darth Vader took over the empire, when Gordan Brown became prime minister, the one with Casper the Ghost and the Adams family in, the one where that stupid place in Wiltshire defeated my youthful yellows, the time i lost at lawnbowls after needing only another point to win, the time Lance Armstrong got caught for blood doping, the time i was undressed at a party, the time i had to be carried from the cricket field by 8 players (all the players that weren't having a cricket ball bowled at them) after pulling my groin and the worst one of all the time where i ended up as the pope. during my 16 years i have had times where some of those nightmares have affected me so badly i have endured times were i didn't go to bed for 5 days after my father told me that if you die in your dreams you die in real life, well if i didn't go to sleep i couldn't die however the lack of sleep nearly killed me anyway; it's alright though as punishment my father couldn't go to the public house for friday happy hour. i have problems with sleeping anyway i rarely get more than 6 hours sleep which isn't really enough for someone of my stature, also apparently i'm a bit weird in the way that i sleep with clothes on (i presume that is normal protocol in Russia) while Miss Jones, Mr Harris and Mr Greenwood do not (probably shouldn't have wrote that but you don't get called a Sanders for nothing you have to cock everything else up first), i also sleep in a South Easterly direction which is not normal according to miss E Wheatcroft. see the problem with this war is that a solution has not been created so that's the first step, although they didn't call it the space race in the 60's for nothing. so troops lets get inventing! to win a war you need to have resources, something the germans tried to exploit through the nazi-soviet pact. to survive in Africa you need to subsidise, to survive in Australia you need to be opinionated now you see why i imigrated there. to do anything you need to have a plan made up of smaller plans which are made up of collecting resources (picking up godchildren from nursery, grooming them into soldiers, sending them to steal oil from Saudia Arabia, Send them into war, give them a medal as reward when i take over the world succeeding where pinkie and the Brain failed) the key to this war is finding a resource that stops nightmares. so far the closest i've got is death but in my case thats not a 100% chance of avoiding them in case i am found to be wrong and there is a place called hell worst than essex or more north than Cheshire. one day this resource will be invented, the battle shall begin and we will be given the oppurtunity to become like OMD in a years time and have a head full of brilliant dreams but until that point this war is much like the nuclear one that Korea is supposedly about to start. however when it is invented this war will be won, people will sleep better increasing work ethic as well as helping make society better, together we can achieve the factor that prompts a days success which is of course a good nights sleep.