Five reasons why I *WILL NOT* be going to the prom.

2. I cannot dance

Seriously, I couldn’t dance to save my life, in fact, if I tried to dance to save my life, I’d probably trip and die anyway. Proms = Dancing = Death. Are you trying to kill me?

3. What else could I be doing?

I could be doing something SO much more interesting and original in the time the prom is on. I could be playing chess with a dog for all you know.

4. Have you ever seen me in a dress?

Just LOOK at it! Are you insane enough to inflict that upon the rest of our school year?!

5. The year eight prom was traumatic.

for five separate reasons:

1. I looked like a poison mushroom (LOOK at that dress! LOOK at it!)

2. My sister decided to arse around in the car park, shouting at me across the school and embaressing me. Karma still liked me then, so she was smited and we ended up going to A&E to see if she had broken her fingers, but regardless, we ended up in HOSPITAL.

3. I spent the whole night sat at the side with Kirsty, watching. It was very boring, and I could fully appreciate (not) the cheesiness of the whole constitution from the sidelines.

4. I had to endure watching the guy I liked dance with everyone before dancing to the generic slow song with one of my friends. That was agony, I won’t ever live that down.

5. My toes were blue from the shoes I wore. Posh clothes just aren’t for me, I’m much more cosy in jeans and a hoodie. Leave me be.