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I’ve just realised that I’m going into Year 11 in September. Crap.
It’s come as a bit of a shock, to be honest. I’ve got through these past couple of years just telling myself that I have years left at Mayflower (my school), and have nothing to worry about. No matter how much I hate the place, it’s basically a second home now. But what’s really sunk in was something I was told the other day, by our new Head Of Year Mr Selly. I personally thought it was a selly decision to give him that level of responsibility, but it’s not up to me.
Anyway, enough utterly awful puns and onto what he said...well, I can’t remember exactly because we were all too busy laughing at our ‘numerous’ uses for his surname in comical sentences, but the gist of it was that next year, is the last year I legally have to be in school.
So, if I wanted to, I could bog off to Spain next July, right?
Of course I’m not stupid enough to do that (surprisingly), but it still means I can do whatever I want. And the current plan I have is 6th Form for 2 years, and then onto University.
University. Something on these forums about Uni has stuck in my mind. It was posted by my good mate Your Honour, and it was...well, I suppose it was tips about how to get on at Uni. Tips like, “when you get there, go knock on everyone else’s doors and introduce yourself.” Other stuff that comes to mind when I think of Uni is signing up for courses, getting drunk and doing a helluva lot of revision.
This has me a little nervous. Hell, I can’t iron a shirt without burning somebody, how am I supposed to get through Uni!? I get nervous when talking to close friends on the phone, and you expect me to go INTRODUCE MYSELF!?
It just seems that the rest of my life all hinges on these next few years. Why not spread it about a bit? And why now, when I supposedly spend all my time thinking about sex, drink, sex and sex. It’s gonna be hard to do any work, especially with me mumbling along. “Okay, this headline needs to be positioned there...positioned...sexual positions.”* cue drunk laughter from roommates*
So if I get anything wrong over the next...5, 6, 7 years, then I’m totally buggered for the rest of my life. I can just imagine the conversations with the grand-children.
“Grandad, if you used to be quite clever, why did you never get a good job?”
“Because I gave my English Professor a wedgie, darling.”
And that’s if I ever have Grand-kids. Seems to me that if I don’t find a girl at Uni then I’m gonna spend the rest of my days conversing with a piece of Parmesan Cheese, especially considering I’m as good at talking to girls as Tim Henman is at reaching the Wimbledon Final.
I’m kinda wondering when my luck’s gonna turn. I look on at people who I know for a fact are worse people than me. I’m no angel, but I certainly wouldn’t call myself a bad person either. The same as you guys, I expect. But I see people who enjoy beating up others, have no respect for anyone who’s not ‘hard’ and don’t seem to have any ambitions for life. And yet, they’re the popular ones. They’re the ones who get the gorgeous girls. Okay, so the girl who I’ve liked since Year 3 is going out with someone who I like, but even then I think, “why him, and not me?” Probably because I’m as self-confident as Vinnie Jones is reasonable.
Well, I can’t banter on about my future forever, especially considering no one’s found a cure for death yet. Ha.
Ah well, I guess I have more immediate worries than University yet. I mean, I have to have a bath tomorrow. Night y’all.
Thanks for reading, Ant.
It’s come as a bit of a shock, to be honest. I’ve got through these past couple of years just telling myself that I have years left at Mayflower (my school), and have nothing to worry about. No matter how much I hate the place, it’s basically a second home now. But what’s really sunk in was something I was told the other day, by our new Head Of Year Mr Selly. I personally thought it was a selly decision to give him that level of responsibility, but it’s not up to me.
Anyway, enough utterly awful puns and onto what he said...well, I can’t remember exactly because we were all too busy laughing at our ‘numerous’ uses for his surname in comical sentences, but the gist of it was that next year, is the last year I legally have to be in school.
So, if I wanted to, I could bog off to Spain next July, right?
Of course I’m not stupid enough to do that (surprisingly), but it still means I can do whatever I want. And the current plan I have is 6th Form for 2 years, and then onto University.
University. Something on these forums about Uni has stuck in my mind. It was posted by my good mate Your Honour, and it was...well, I suppose it was tips about how to get on at Uni. Tips like, “when you get there, go knock on everyone else’s doors and introduce yourself.” Other stuff that comes to mind when I think of Uni is signing up for courses, getting drunk and doing a helluva lot of revision.
This has me a little nervous. Hell, I can’t iron a shirt without burning somebody, how am I supposed to get through Uni!? I get nervous when talking to close friends on the phone, and you expect me to go INTRODUCE MYSELF!?
It just seems that the rest of my life all hinges on these next few years. Why not spread it about a bit? And why now, when I supposedly spend all my time thinking about sex, drink, sex and sex. It’s gonna be hard to do any work, especially with me mumbling along. “Okay, this headline needs to be positioned there...positioned...sexual positions.”* cue drunk laughter from roommates*
So if I get anything wrong over the next...5, 6, 7 years, then I’m totally buggered for the rest of my life. I can just imagine the conversations with the grand-children.
“Grandad, if you used to be quite clever, why did you never get a good job?”
“Because I gave my English Professor a wedgie, darling.”
And that’s if I ever have Grand-kids. Seems to me that if I don’t find a girl at Uni then I’m gonna spend the rest of my days conversing with a piece of Parmesan Cheese, especially considering I’m as good at talking to girls as Tim Henman is at reaching the Wimbledon Final.
I’m kinda wondering when my luck’s gonna turn. I look on at people who I know for a fact are worse people than me. I’m no angel, but I certainly wouldn’t call myself a bad person either. The same as you guys, I expect. But I see people who enjoy beating up others, have no respect for anyone who’s not ‘hard’ and don’t seem to have any ambitions for life. And yet, they’re the popular ones. They’re the ones who get the gorgeous girls. Okay, so the girl who I’ve liked since Year 3 is going out with someone who I like, but even then I think, “why him, and not me?” Probably because I’m as self-confident as Vinnie Jones is reasonable.
Well, I can’t banter on about my future forever, especially considering no one’s found a cure for death yet. Ha.
Ah well, I guess I have more immediate worries than University yet. I mean, I have to have a bath tomorrow. Night y’all.
Thanks for reading, Ant.
Page:
This is ur life....
Damn, this was supposed to go in the Life Forum. Sorry, I'm a bit out of it tonight, as I expect you can tell. {:)
I’ve just realised that I’m going into Year 11 in September. Crap.
It’s come as a bit of a shock, to be honest. I’ve got through these past couple of years just telling myself that I have years left at Mayflower (my school), and have nothing to worry about. No matter how much I hate the place, it’s basically a second home now. But what’s really sunk in was something I was told the other day, by our new Head Of Year Mr Selly. I personally thought it was a selly decision to give him that level of responsibility, but it’s not up to me.
Anyway, enough utterly awful puns and onto what he said...well, I can’t remember exactly because we were all too busy laughing at our ‘numerous’ uses for his surname in comical sentences, but the gist of it was that next year, is the last year I legally have to be in school.
So, if I wanted to, I could bog off to Spain next July, right?
Of course I’m not stupid enough to do that (surprisingly), but it still means I can do whatever I want. And the current plan I have is 6th Form for 2 years, and then onto University.
University. Something on these forums about Uni has stuck in my mind. It was posted by my good mate Your Honour, and it was...well, I suppose it was tips about how to get on at Uni. Tips like, “when you get there, go knock on everyone else’s doors and introduce yourself.” Other stuff that comes to mind when I think of Uni is signing up for courses, getting drunk and doing a helluva lot of revision.
This has me a little nervous. Hell, I can’t iron a shirt without burning somebody, how am I supposed to get through Uni!? I get nervous when talking to close friends on the phone, and you expect me to go INTRODUCE MYSELF!?
It just seems that the rest of my life all hinges on these next few years. Why not spread it about a bit? And why now, when I supposedly spend all my time thinking about sex, drink, sex and sex. It’s gonna be hard to do any work, especially with me mumbling along. “Okay, this headline needs to be positioned there...positioned...sexual positions.”* cue drunk laughter from roommates*
So if I get anything wrong over the next...5, 6, 7 years, then I’m totally buggered for the rest of my life. I can just imagine the conversations with the grand-children.
“Grandad, if you used to be quite clever, why did you never get a good job?”
“Because I gave my English Professor a wedgie, darling.”
And that’s if I ever have Grand-kids. Seems to me that if I don’t find a girl at Uni then I’m gonna spend the rest of my days conversing with a piece of Parmesan Cheese, especially considering I’m as good at talking to girls as Tim Henman is at reaching the Wimbledon Final.
I’m kinda wondering when my luck’s gonna turn. I look on at people who I know for a fact are worse people than me. I’m no angel, but I certainly wouldn’t call myself a bad person either. The same as you guys, I expect. But I see people who enjoy beating up others, have no respect for anyone who’s not ‘hard’ and don’t seem to have any ambitions for life. And yet, they’re the popular ones. They’re the ones who get the gorgeous girls. Okay, so the girl who I’ve liked since Year 3 is going out with someone who I like, but even then I think, “why him, and not me?” Probably because I’m as self-confident as Vinnie Jones is reasonable.
Well, I can’t banter on about my future forever, especially considering no one’s found a cure for death yet. Ha.
Ah well, I guess I have more immediate worries than University yet. I mean, I have to have a bath tomorrow. Night y’all.
Thanks for reading, Ant.
It’s come as a bit of a shock, to be honest. I’ve got through these past couple of years just telling myself that I have years left at Mayflower (my school), and have nothing to worry about. No matter how much I hate the place, it’s basically a second home now. But what’s really sunk in was something I was told the other day, by our new Head Of Year Mr Selly. I personally thought it was a selly decision to give him that level of responsibility, but it’s not up to me.
Anyway, enough utterly awful puns and onto what he said...well, I can’t remember exactly because we were all too busy laughing at our ‘numerous’ uses for his surname in comical sentences, but the gist of it was that next year, is the last year I legally have to be in school.
So, if I wanted to, I could bog off to Spain next July, right?
Of course I’m not stupid enough to do that (surprisingly), but it still means I can do whatever I want. And the current plan I have is 6th Form for 2 years, and then onto University.
University. Something on these forums about Uni has stuck in my mind. It was posted by my good mate Your Honour, and it was...well, I suppose it was tips about how to get on at Uni. Tips like, “when you get there, go knock on everyone else’s doors and introduce yourself.” Other stuff that comes to mind when I think of Uni is signing up for courses, getting drunk and doing a helluva lot of revision.
This has me a little nervous. Hell, I can’t iron a shirt without burning somebody, how am I supposed to get through Uni!? I get nervous when talking to close friends on the phone, and you expect me to go INTRODUCE MYSELF!?
It just seems that the rest of my life all hinges on these next few years. Why not spread it about a bit? And why now, when I supposedly spend all my time thinking about sex, drink, sex and sex. It’s gonna be hard to do any work, especially with me mumbling along. “Okay, this headline needs to be positioned there...positioned...sexual positions.”* cue drunk laughter from roommates*
So if I get anything wrong over the next...5, 6, 7 years, then I’m totally buggered for the rest of my life. I can just imagine the conversations with the grand-children.
“Grandad, if you used to be quite clever, why did you never get a good job?”
“Because I gave my English Professor a wedgie, darling.”
And that’s if I ever have Grand-kids. Seems to me that if I don’t find a girl at Uni then I’m gonna spend the rest of my days conversing with a piece of Parmesan Cheese, especially considering I’m as good at talking to girls as Tim Henman is at reaching the Wimbledon Final.
I’m kinda wondering when my luck’s gonna turn. I look on at people who I know for a fact are worse people than me. I’m no angel, but I certainly wouldn’t call myself a bad person either. The same as you guys, I expect. But I see people who enjoy beating up others, have no respect for anyone who’s not ‘hard’ and don’t seem to have any ambitions for life. And yet, they’re the popular ones. They’re the ones who get the gorgeous girls. Okay, so the girl who I’ve liked since Year 3 is going out with someone who I like, but even then I think, “why him, and not me?” Probably because I’m as self-confident as Vinnie Jones is reasonable.
Well, I can’t banter on about my future forever, especially considering no one’s found a cure for death yet. Ha.
Ah well, I guess I have more immediate worries than University yet. I mean, I have to have a bath tomorrow. Night y’all.
Thanks for reading, Ant.
Page: