Ms Peart Year 9 English: October 2015

Thursday, October 29, 2015

Persuasive devices for Speaking Assessment

1.Anecdote
2.Rhetorical question
3.Repetition
4.Emotive language
5.Facts and Statistics
6.Exaggeration
7.Personal pronouns
8.Alliteration
9.Knocking down the other side of the argument
10.List of three

Queuing is the most pointless, useless and boring waste of time. Personally, I find it most frustrating in a shop, post office or airport. Why should you have to wait in a long queue just to buy something? Why doesn´t the company just employ more people?

Firstly, I find this exasperating because I am an impatient person and I really hate waiting. In my opinion, it is a massive waste of time, time that could be used to do something productive, useful or worthwhile.

Secondly, I think that queuing has a negative effect on business because so many people give up and leave the queue, put their product back on the shelf and storm out of the shop defeated and angry.

Finally, according to new research, British people spend will spend 6 months of their lives queuing. 6 hours, can you imagine! The average British adult wastes 5 hours a month queuing in supermarkets. I find this appalling. What a waste of time!

Friday, October 23, 2015

Room 101 Vocab

Room 101 dislike words

All day breakfasts in a tin are the most heinous, offensive and vile food stuffs that exist. Firstly, I abhor beans. Their smell and texture revolt and repulse me, leaving me feeling violently sick. Not only do all day breakfasts in a tin contain beans, but they also, and perhaps more offensively contain sausage, burger, bacon, lamb cutlet, mushrooms and egg. Why would you put cooked egg in a tin? More to the point, the percentages of the tin’s content on the back has given me many sleepless and restless nights. Allegedly, the tins only contain 8% meat but more than half of the contents are supposedly meat. Worrying.

My dislike for all day breakfasts in a tin was perpetuated by an experience I had in the house that I lived in during my first year of university. Vividly, I remember coming downstairs, hung-over, into our communal kitchen. My five other housemates were standing around, drinking tea and chatting about the previous night. Meanwhile, my housemate from Bolton, in her broad Bolton accent was struggling to get the all day breakfast out of the tin. She shouted from the corner of the kitchen where the cooker was, ‘Can’t get ‘t out, it’s stuck, tin’ s farting!’ Due to the breakfast’s horrendous texture and consistency, it was literally making slurping noises as it came out of the tin. This was followed by a ghastly smell of congealed fake meat and beans. Vile!