We'll always hate Paris

The city, that is.

I’m going a little spare. After Senior 1.1 managed to write about weekend-breaks to a variety of cities, I was hoping that Senior 1.2 would follow suit. No, they’ve almost all decided to go to Paris and all its fucking clichés.

But I’ve just been pushed over the edge by
You may be curious about which city I was chosen. I can tell you, it’s Pairs.
And this isn’t an isolated misspelling. It’s Pairs right throughout the entire cliché-strewn task response. It’s a bit early for me to start drinking, but I’m looking at my bottle of wine and thinking that inebriation might be the very thing.

What makes this worse is that none of my little bleeders are getting less than than the equivalent of an A for the Reading and Writing. I should be pleased, shouldn’t I? Bugger off.

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