Lucy and I took a depressingly farcical bus journey today, getting on the wrong bus and having to go to Honiton and back instead of our desired destination of Exeter.
When we were in Honiton, the bus was swamped with loads of school chlidren on their way home. After what I said last time, I'm probably not allowed to call them vermin, am I? But they certainly seemed like shrill, sticky, convulsing, oblivious little maggots. I suppose that's what happens when your parents are brother and sister (Westcountry stereotype joke #12)*.
*The first 11 in the list concern deviant acts in custard.
Anyway, it reminded me how much I appreciate not having to go to school anymore. Few things fill me with more pleasure than seeing the shop windows displaying 'back to school' sales at the end of August, and realising that I don't have to go through the ordeal of trying on scratchy school uniform and pretending to be excited by novelty pencil cases (well, ok, those fruit pastille ones were pretty cool).
"Your schooldays are the best time of your life" is something said by sadists and amnesiacs. When I have kids, I'm going to level with them and say "school is the worst time of your life", and give them credit for overcoming the ordeal.
Apart from the obvious horrors like pointless lessons, and power-mad teachers, it should not be forgotten that ninety percent of school children are cunts (if you went to my school, I'm sure you were one of the good ten percent). Relentlessly cruel, they're more concerned with conformity than an anally-retentive Marxist computer. You can't do or say anything unless your sure most of your classmates feel the same. When I innocently asked "does anyone else dress up as Marie Antionette and sing Cole Porter songs?", suddenly I was labelled "the weird one". Unbelievable.
That last thing isn't true.
It was Gilbert and Sullivan.
Anyway, the point is: it's great to be above school age. The best time in your life is University. You have the lack of responsiblity of childhood combined with the coke and whores of adulthood. Brilliant.
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Seagull update:
They're gone! I don't know where, but it seems they're out on their own. I did see a young seagull out the front of our house. I said hello, but he blanked me. He probably couldn't hear me because he was listening to his iPod. I promised myself I wouldn't cry...
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Come back next time for my excellent idea for a series of children's books (and no, it's not just pictures of my genitals, you sicko!)
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