Four Lions

Me and Mum went to see it today. I think I can say, very certainly, it is the funniest film I've seen in a very long time, if not ever.
Basically, it's about this guy called Omar, who seems perfectly normal - apart from the fact that he's part of an amateur terrorist cell, along with Waj, Fasul (I'm not sure how to spell it) and Barry who's extremely paranoid about surveillance. They don't really get much done considering that Barry is constantly trying to undermine Omar's leadership, Fasul refuses to be seen on camera and so puts a cardboard box on his head, and Waj is undeniably an idiot - and yet, the best character in the film, I think.
After a short while, Omar manages to get tickets for himself and Waj to go to a training camp in Pakistan, but . . . one thing leads to another and they regroup with Barry, Fasul and new member Hassan Malik.
I don't want to give away too much, and if I keep going, I probably will end up doing just that, so I'll just leave you with this phrase;
"If they're chickens Waj, why don't they have ears?" And the last two aren't even the best lines. Just go and see it. It is well funny, and you won't be able to listen to that Dancing in the Moonlight song with a straight face.

In other news, I found out today in Chemistry that Tartrazine inhibits penis and testicle growth in men - so stop drinking that Mountain Dew now!
Sexton told us in History why chewing gum is bad for you (it wears your teeth down and gives you stomach ulcers), in Maths I got stuck on level 2 work and completely failed a level 8 exercise on the laptops.
In RS we did some stuff about the media and how they portray 'the good life'.
In German we were doing about how to talk to your host family, and also I found out who my mate Patrick fancies, but I won't tell you in case you tell someone.

Last night I had a dream that I was a Latin American man. I was in this sort of poor person's home, wearing a white vest, beige 1920s sort of pants and flip-flops, with my hair oiled back as I shaved off my moustache in the mirror and told my wife and baby child that I would be away for three years. Then Winston Churchill came in through the door and told me it was time to go. I was doing something to do with guerrila warfare.
I also realised that in most of my dreams I'm being chased. Out of the ones I remember, there's the wolves, the dragon-faces, the Ood, the tall ginger blue suit man, the crazy man, the scuba suit man, the living toys and ornaments, and at some point I think there was the gas mask children. The only non-chasing ones I remember are the getting run over while Harry Potter teaches me broomstick skills, playing Quidditch in the playground, the gas mask friends on the table, the house party and last night's one which also included a no-hair section of a hospital that had a picture of the Powerpuff Girls in it.
Lastly, I have a dress with guns on it.