Probably the worst thing that ever happened to me was when I was in second grade. I had pretty bad allergies and made frequent trips to my teacher's desk because that's where the box of tissues was. I would also frequent the garbage can, to throw away my snotty tissues. After a bit of doing this, my teacher finally put the box of tissues right on my desk and taped a trash bag to the back of my chair so I didn't have to get up. When you're in second grade, you don't tell your teacher off. You don't cry about it. You just deal with life. You learn to be the outcast. You learn that this is the way life is supposed to be, and I will always be the one with trashbag that everyone pointed at.

Other than that, no other tragedy has ever struck my life like british movies have.

There's this thing that some directors and writers like to include in their movies. We call this a "plot". This "plot" I speak of is a pretty neat little toy. It makes me get into a movie. It hooks me. It makes me want to see what's going to happen, how they solve their dillemma, how they make right what has been made wrong.

And then there's British movies. Completely void of ANY sort of plot. Well, good plot anyhow.

"Ok, here's a good idea. It's a movie about a bunch of guys.. and they... hmm.. Oh, I know, they rob banks. And they talk about robbing banks. Ooo, and they split the money after each robbery! Oh and get this, after one of the robberies, one of the guys loses his money somewhere and he gets pissed off... but he's ok after the next robbery because he's got money again..."

"Woah woah woah, hold it.. there's too much of a hint of a plot there.. tone it down, we're british remember?"

It doesn't help that in british movies, nobody speaks english. I mean, yes they're speaking english, but even with the subtitles on you couldn't understand what was going on... And then since they choose not to introduce a plot, you're just sitting, wondering what random event might take place next, and why it's important to make the movie a whole.

By the time you've finished watching the movie, you realize you would've been better off playing with nettles. Nothing major happened in the movie. There were no dynamic characters that you became attached to. You didn't cry when they cried, you didn't laugh when they laughed. Mostly you just wondered why you were watching, and why you should care that Johnny no fingers (cause they got chopped Frank Bough at a Bladder Of Lard game wif thugs.) was not going to go through with heist number #2932730852.

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