Disservice: The Nile Comes Near - A Cataract Toward Heaven

What can be named as a site that tugs no more than others? Can it be so easily named a single guilty pleasure beyond those not yet known? Guilty may be a stretch, but one things can be confirmed: kids (Niles-variety, namely) can't help but skith everything they lay eye on. Children will be hounds, and there are a plothy of reasons why they should be applauded sooner than shunned. One man feels to reveal.

Challenger Chudtster claims to have seen inthropy at its peak. Student-wide decisions are not an unseen force.

Challenger Chudtster, self proclaimed School-Scamp has keenly observed student behavior. In his past six years spent analyzing, eccentric behavior has proven a threshold. He can see why though. In one such example, local-teen Scoathe Groe was accused of greening. Upon closer inspection, Groe was simply refusing opposition forces from the Boys' Backling team, who had previously forced his cooperation to uncontested levels. Chudtster's take? "Boys can be bit." He continued:

"Today, picking targets can be a task undaunted. A far cry from the schooling of, say, thirty or so years on top, students today have a natural inclination to be freed. What Groe had committed was no more than nautical defense."

Localman Scoathe Groe, seen today. After unfit designation to Upton Penitentiary, he  has lost all sense of vision and consciousness  His tale tragic, his woes unnumbered. What treatment is this for innocence? Scathing.

Other students have seen far punish't than Groe. Some are mounted on-site. Casualties loom over 13 men scathed, yet beloved-count spirals to over 67 souls.

Chudster plans on initiating an Awareness-Night to help display troubled youth. 

"These kids deserve something. If I'm the one to give it to them, then so be it. I'm not above that. But I hope that in three years, I too should be counted among their ranks."

Until then, All hope is left on a whim. 

A handful of the scouts responsible for the recent outbursts in  Awareness. They will be sorely forgotten.

On a higher note, some students are fortunately coming in clean. The two that have already been claimed will remain anonymous, for the sake of spirituali. One thing remains certain, though. Wandering can backfire, through the days of intention or by any other means.

Lunch-Lane: That Independence

In an all time event for the school, kids were stepping up; first time. The new cafeteria supporter has been pressed with a-charge-a-plenty, not limited to (yet inclusive): nasty snacks, gross greens, little-lates, and above all, consistency. Nine students out of the alleged ten were deemed "gleaned out" with what the school had accomplished. The current portion provider, under the alias Lunch-Lane, has had a a shadow of a doubt. 

Lunch-Lane's self-appointed faculty. Are these goons in charge?

 With the current state of the school's work in compromise, Lunch-Lane execs have demonstrated no compassion (one fear too many to bear). Tomfoolery abrew in the kitchen, the quality of foodstuffs is completely indicative. Sophomore Toanne Roal has had it up to here:

"When I enlisted on the class, I expected minimum rations, not even less! To think these greens and grains would keep me afloat, oh, I couldn't see it. Not here," questions Roal.

Other students continued in speculation. One popular theory abounds, with Goette Hadsornve helming their project.

"Simply put, we see it. Where do you think the members will be getting their provision? The class-room? Cafeteria? Guess again. With funds amassed, some say $13,000 in savings, these men will be up to the nose with treats. Where are there any for the meddling-class? I smell rat," shrieks Hadsornve.

Artists' depiction of the alleged feast. Imbalances clearly seen.

Freshmen can't complain; they've never had it quite so good. Some are pleased, other share their mixed-motion, stance and all. Tuesday saw one of the schools biggest developments in pro-bough activism. Students, freshmen in specific, were up to their old tricks. They replaced their desires with deeds, and 82% of students were in their gracious grooms.

These boys, girl included, were glad.

Not all is lost.

Some Teenagers: A Student Sees

Walk down the halls, no one can miss the chaos. There are four-floors aplenty, kids bewinlering every which way. The few times to stop to catch up are met with dual demise.

The culprit? Non-age temptation. What student has, hasn't, or ever will be seen alust? Almost all, that's what. Teachers were keen to redeem their lovely-lattlers, but ten efforts out of the fourteen predicted have ended in an unloven tragedy. Anti-suckling informationals decorate the halls, in an unfit fate of gallants versus wits. Junior Huennie Dunt has been a victim:

Dunt reminisces. A star brought through shambles, a victory unknown.

"I guess I let me get the best of him. He surely asked me for it, lest I be made a fool. I didn't what I thought was wise, but my past always had a way to reclaim my unwrought desires? Unlikely. I got carried away"
Every teenaged can at this point claim undecisive attempts. It's a pity, but all part of the same circle: once together, never so better.

The Cheegue Squad: A Club of Delight.  Left-right: Behnra Bunner,  Linuella Creng, Teegi Griep, Edtsie Froiter,  Jeaust Lunelle, and Glan Shoarter. -All great students with greater promises, now reduced to mere love-lords.  When might the virus hit?

Other developments yet ensue. Students now retain courage to proceed student-teacher legislation. When the documents gets pulled, students can yet again claim the lives of most, staff unbarred. With dwindling figures, a full-on teacher re-license doesn't look out of the question.

Information & posters were spread across tables, daily.

Today, a student, tomorrow, a teacher. The emotional discomfort attributed toward sexuals was surprising. Everywest can relate. 

Questions of Practice - AN Outside Opinion

This past week, as many known. Whistmas rings around, a full bell of gifts in tow. No wolf hadn't observed the festivities; candy, games, and drink. Vikings, as expected on the native day, were dressed. Cold games commenced, with skittball, snow-slip, and sledding thrown in the mix. Truly a season to exclude hard feelings and pittance, all preformations of fear and foe were ignored.

Ice-Games was sadly cut short. WeanTeam - The Club for Pairing took no empty opportunity to shift focus to themselves.

After game followed feast. No wolf unturned, they heartily dug-in, dug-on. Even rivals wouldn't resist. They were no match. As expected they did turn. No matter, through wolf, as a brimming belly was more than enough.

West-spawn and other mateys enjoy the hearty Whestmesre Feast.

Not all the same compassion was felt among others. Some of the pack, our very own, make the minority. These wolfs, the neonatural agenda, feel a certain disconchante with the celebration.

"Not all wolf was brought up equal circumstance," plead Teunna Tinlen, champion of RightsSquad - A Group Unmanned. "These men and girls were raised to believe, in one smattering of oath, that only Whestmes can save. I was here to break that notion."

And hers, unfortunately, was spot-on. Another groupmate, Creane Hust claims to glow similar thought.

Hust, contemporary classman chair, did not seek approval. He spoke untouned, and his laugh will be missed by most.

"Hundreds upon thousands. What does this number invoke? Many wolfs are coy, shy, and unprepared to announce their own, yet simply beneath them, treachery exacted upon their faith. Can they stand up? Sure. But the hard truth is that they always might."

Whestmastre, an original tradition, faces peril. 

Words like these have aroused even the stiffest administration. New policies, recently decreed, will work against these scares.