Anna Brailey

Jan 21

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night in :D

Jan 20

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Dear Mrs Cooper,

Thank you for making my last years at school dreadfully unforgettable. I had been at St.Margaret’s School for 15 years so I had seen my fair share of new headmistresses, but you were something quite extraordinary. I’m not sure if it’s the way that when trying to talk to anyone that is stupid enough to give you the time of day, you manage to pause in all the wrong places so that your sentences sound utterly nonsensical, or if it’s the manner in which you manage to demean and patronise everyone in ear shot. Or simply is it the sound of your voice that makes me want to repeatedly stab lots of blunt needles into my eyes? In all my years I have never encountered another person who is so fascinated and amorous with their own backside that they take it upon themselves to live up there 24/7.

Furthermore any similarity between you and a real human being is purely coincidental, you are; for want of a better word. Pond life.

Please accept my greatest of apologies for not congratulating you on having many qualifications in almost every subject under the sun from over priced so-called prestigious universities from around the world, clearly it was my mistake thinking that such an over educated pompous conceited self-important queen (very much like yourself) would consider the arts to be an important part of the national curriculum. And not only make life unbearable for the students studying said subjects but low and behold you managed to turn the teachers against you as well, to the point where half the teaching staff had already left 6 months into your arrival. Now St.Margaret’s is no longer known for its accolades in the Arts. St.Margaret’s in now known for the all girls school that now takes boys because they need more money. Way to be a complete sell out. Good bye pastoral care, good bye one to one teaching, good bye sanity to anyone that dare enrol their child at this school.

Did I forget to mention the irritating manner in which you tilt your head? This is such a repulsive aversion that when you are talking to me I am quite distracted and cannot possibly concentrate on anything else except for the fact that you must have been involved in a nasty accident that permanently glued your head in this ridiculous fashion.

Hopefully you’ll remember my name now.

All best,

Anna Brailey

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