Yep, back in the blogging game. Tough auld game this. Like dealing crack. Life on the line kind of shit. And if I’m completely honest. Brutally, clinically honest. I forgot the name of this website, and that is why I wasn’t updating. Isn’t that farsical? I have a head like a sieve.
Anyways. Whats happened in the last few months that I can get outta the way now? I did my exams, and did horrendously in them at that. You think you did bad? Belt up fuckers, I did far FAR worse. Tenner bets. I’d confidently lay a tenner down on that. I may as well have taken a shit on the English department head’s head… read that slowly, I promise it makes sense. Department head’s head…
English is a Marmite subject. By that I mean, you either love it, or you hate it. This is not to be confused with literature, or reading. I love reading. Love it. Nothing beats a good book. English though. Let me describe what English entails at university level: 1 Read a book. 2 Maybe even enjoy the said book. 3 Analyse the book (you can see where we’re slipping here). 4. Write a shudderingly long essay about the (nonexistent) examples of vaginal expression. 5. Go fucking insane; so insane that you beat a squirrel to death with a toothbrush. Luckily, I gave up half way through step four, so not a single squirrel came to any harm.
The end.
