'oh lovestruck, i've fallen for a lamppost' sang Madness, JPJ Sanders replied with 'well that's one way to describe his intelligence'

this week so far has been quite a difficult one for the one and only JPJ Sanders, i've had many personal attacks regarding my middle/upper class status in society. there's also been a death in my step great grandmothers family which has caused the elder generations of my family to feel a bit down, also i seem to irritate nearly everyone i speak to without even intending to (which apparently is a bad thing) and worst of all i believe (although it could be a joke, i don't know as i was born without a sense of humor' that one of my angels was deprived of bachelorretery (another word to go into the dictionary Mr Gable) by a crisp chucking, hair harassing, banana bending ruffian that fails to achieve even the slightest of pleasant political conversation with me. although i suppose the commute home with Lord Allen, Dr Reverend Palmer and future Mrs Palmer which was impacted worse by miss double c and her latest boyfriend that looks almost exactly the same apart from being a foot taller. so the week isn't going well so far however there is one positive thing that has happened this week, i no longer need to spend a pound on one of my angels and her companion (who were married on facebook but divorced, mutually deciding to end their terms as bachelor and bachelorrete) to go on a honeymoon somewhere nice which from the perspective of the male in question would be to WHSmiths so he can purchase a bag of haribo which half of which would be thrown at groups of people in the playground and get stuck in my competitive curls, with the other half consumed in 2 mouthfuls by this monkey impersonator. something has changed recently in the world, according to miss Jones it's me becoming human (whatever that means my upper lip is fixed in place therefore no emotion can ever be shown) or in my opinion the change in attitudes shown towards one another as people struggle to adapt to labour no longer wiping their bottoms and they have to make their own success rather than have it given to them as proved by the class argument during chemistry. however i want to look at things from a male perspective tonight, i look at samples within society i see princes with their big biceps, their terrific thighs, their competitive curls swishing from side to side, writing blogs in their spare time while organising balls and leading by a conservative example. meanwhile a possible princess is wasting their time trying to turn the ruffian with a metabolism into a prince. as a result of this i declare war on the slipping of female standards when choosing their princes that will transform them into their perfect princesses.

i feel the dilemma i'm experiencing is as a result of something my mother said to me on the way home from watching the best film i've ever seen the 'iron lady' my mother said to me 'JPJ please get a girlfriend i'm fed up of having to watch films about formula 1 and the conservative party' since then the search has been on for someone who can suffice my needs for a female companion they only need to be able to: wash my bowls kit, keep my lycra soft and comfortable, cook vegetarian food properly, tell me i look powerful, tell me which clothes would suit me and are the right texture for my delicate skin, share my love of lawnbowls, cycling and the conservative party, be accepting that i am my mothers first born therefore have the burden of returning her to the retirement home once i've found suitable clothing for her, adore me for being an eccentric, be good at apologising for my verbal misdemeanors, accept that even though i may have been proved incorrect, i was in fact correct just in a different context and most importantly love me almost as much as my mother for being the eccentric, crazy, obnoxious, handsome, powerful and wonderful blessing to humanity that i am. it's like Mr Fiddaman told me the other day 'one day there will be someone that will love you and i feel so sorry for that woman/man' unnecessary as i am actually heterosexual. to win this war against the lack of appreciation shown towards gentlemen from fabulous females such as my angels. we require us marvelous males to unite to prove that this plan is most definitely fool proof. therefore eliminating the chances of the ruffian with the metabolism increasing the esteem of females everywhere.

i think to express our qualities we need to compete man against man, gentleman vs ruffian. the competition shall consist of 11 rounds: women rights, cricket, soccer, rugby, crisp chucking, litter dropping, politics, greatest insults of the 20th century, internet rumpy bumpy and lawn bowls with a dance off if there is a tie after 11 rounds. to make this competition fair women will host it, write the questions and judge our performances. as a result of these challenges nerds shall not live with their mothers till they are 40 but have provide me with beautiful, intelligent godchildren perfect for my armies. because what fun is it for a fabulous female to be supporting a ruffian that is staggering home with the headlights of a police car throwing a shadow up and upon their fantastic female self that has done no wrong. after all once having rumpy bumpy with them you will no longer mean anything to them. as they mumble on to their friends about the passionless, loveless night you spent together while the nightclub you were in echoes a song. the enticement of their metabolism invites those wonderful women along a path of exterior colour. but come the morning after as you are shivering and contorting due to them stealing the covers you'll say to yourself oh lovestruck i am i've fallen for a lamppost again; even after giving it my upmost to transform him from ruffian to prince i spilt out my deepest feelings. now all i want to do is snuggle up to the prince that makes me my princess such as JPJ Sanders and we can read his War on everything in the early morning dew! this is similar to what happened to my good female friend Miss Jones who attempted 4 times to turn ruffians into princes when actually her prince was 3 roads away at Fitzharry's. it's like i say to my angels 'metabolisms aren't everything a man possesses, you have to remember they have didgeridoos as well so be careful when choosing your companions!'

'I shoulda learned the guitar, i shoulda learned to play them drums' sang Dire Straits, JPJ Sanders replied with 'i'll pass on the guitar but give me the drums!'

today tutor time was a bit different to normal, it involved first of Dr Reverend Palmer emerging from the music block on the way to tutor with his guitar and a adapted hat similar to one i was made to wear during my days at Seabrook state when i was an inhabitant of that extreme environment called Australia. like Dr Rev Palmer my brother also has a guitar although i've adopted it even though my sister was so annoyed by my constant playing of Darth vader's theme music from Star Wars that i either stopped playing or she would assault me with it before chucking it out of our second home onto the road below in front of the dustbin men followed by myself. unfazed by the threat i continued to play only this time i made an effort to learn a song and sing along at the same time, this didn't end well as the result was a sore arm for me, a sore head for my sister when the guitar bounced of my forearm directly into her face but worse of all emotional pain for both me and my brother when my sister hid the guitar in her bedroom which is like a Mexican industrialised area which requires a lot of precipitation in order to clean the streets to prevent Mexicans over-abstracting water (despite my political interruptions i do work hard in Geography Mr Speke) this has caused the problem that my guitar playing days may well be over, therefore i am left to playing the drums which i play amazingly quietly (silently) every evening once i put the musical wonders that are pink floyd on. using pencils and pens as sticks i hit the snare, whack the cymbals, bellow the bass drum in time with Nick Mason. unfortunately though this does not improve in any way the lack of musical talent i possess, or provide me with an outlet to express myself in a way that does not offend people in any possible way which is the brilliant thing about music. as a result i declare war against people who are unable to respect other peoples musical talents.

i have never been musically talented as is shown by the genuine fact that i was banned from recorder club aged 6 for being so bad at it. as today is different rather than list 20 insults, i will list 20 complementary insults to describe these supposedly talented, potentially innovative, marvelously modest when showing off talents, who look like their about to pass out after over exerting themselves playing a long note on the trumpet, play in awe of great Oxfordshire bands such as my fathers commuting associates Radiohead, create entertainment that makes whole school assemblies bearable, provide an example of what could happen if time and effort were put into creating a band that played songs that exploit their talents rather then having clarinet solos from Lord Allen that nobody can hear as they are drowned out by the person playing the drums, attempt to achieve greatness parallel to Pink Floyd, suffer from a lack of talent rather than a lack of ambition, has potential however lacks commitment from certain parties, provides people with the desire to play a instrument just so they can sit on a bench rather than the floor kneeing the person in front of them to avoid the knees of the person behind them, suffer ridicule from the ruffians who wished they could be talented at anything other than screwing up every opportunity their education has provided them with as well as expressing what makes a community brilliant letting people have a go at something they enjoy which is something i proudly commend music for it's ability to no matter how good or rubbish you are you can proudly say you performed. therefore people who cannot respect other peoples musical performances in my opinion should be burnt at the stake publically while we play music around them; but as my mate David said that his government would not allow me to torture people, i will just have to 'get up and do' as my step great grandmother Lady Thatcher would say as a result i'm now writing standing up because this war needs to be lead from the front so i have appointed 3 men to do this. myself, Sergeant Clarkson and Sergeant Keelan together we will conquer them gaining the respect of the ruffian that ridicules them. inspiring more people to entertain assemblies with their marvelous musical talents.

to win this war we need a triple pincer movement which is why i have chosen three leaders who have similar qualities but are also very different. Sergeant Keelan can attack the ruffians with fireworks and handmade grenades while standing on tall objects boring those less interested in chemistry causing them to vulnerable to an attack. Sergeant Clarkson on the other hand can attack the ruffians with vehicles with water cannons on the front while playing recordings of Margaret Thatcher through a boom box inspiring them to change their ways gaining respect for their peers pulling them and their communities together to make the nation brilliant once again. while i am possibly the weak link in this pincer movement due to my ignorance to peoples actions although i'll just bowl my omnipotent orange lawn bowls at peoples ankles while bellowing speeches full of inspiration and motivation with pink floyd as assistants to express what is achievable through music the pincer movement will be a success as they look at the yo-yo's as that's the way i plan to do it once i've shattered their ankles. having David Gilmour play the guitar on MTV to aid my campaign, as for me that's not work that's just the way that i do it. as i hope to earn my money for nothing and like Mr Burlesconi get my chicks for free (but i've got my angels who are better anyhow). let me tell you this people who play music are not 'dumb' they certainly have some creativity between their ears. yes fighting this war you may get a blister on your little finger possibly even your thumb. 'we gotta install those microwave ovens' shall no longer be used as an excuse for not showing off to the world your musical talent: just because your father offers custom kitchen deliveries doesn't mean you have to put your dreams of musical success to one side. moving refrigerators will be your alternative to going to the gym not your occupation. you'll be moving those coloured tv's so you can watch your performances in a quieter place away from the noise of civilisation. for you see possums there is no reason why success cannot be achieved through music, however what you do require is the belief in you that your performances are of a high quality something that is provided through the support of people who are at the opposite side of the social spectrum to future wastes to humanity that spend our money on alcohol and unhealthy food. together we will motivate, together we will inspire, together we will enjoy unlikely assembly stars.