Link to original post: [drupal=4539]The Wonderful Journey of Life: Teran from Birth to Early 1999[/drupal]
Disclaimer: This is long, VERY LONG.
And it is badly written, I kinda just jumped all over the place, and I'd actually intended to go through my whole pre pubescent life, basically up until 2002, but alas, I'd already written way too much and missed too much out in the stuff I was writing about. But hey, if you wanna know a little bit, here it is. It's not so detailed in some areas, and I am kinda sad about that, but bear with it, and I'm going to write future blogs to flesh it out.
So....
My life has been pretty weird, but everyone has their own unique story to tell. I’m just going to talk about life up until the point of early adolescence. When I look back, I always find my childhood was the best period of my life, not necessarily because of the cliché notions of being free from responsibility (although that doesn’t exactly hurt), but mainly just because of the times themselves. It’s weird too, my childhood was filled with a lingering shadow, that shadow being I wasn’t expected to live long enough to even sprout pubic hair, but you know, it’s funny, when I think about it, it’s probably part of what made my childhood so good.
So before I get into that story anyway, I’ll just talk about me from birth, because I was pretty cool as a very young child. I was born quite large (and now I’m 5’9” and 133lb >___>), and also my nose was completely squished in! I looked like a cross between a monkey and a sphynx cat that had been left in the bath too long and pruned up, but anyway, I kinda ended up okay, and a week or so later until about the age of 12 I looked like a Chinese boy. So, I stopped breastfeeding pretty early because I apparently was really unenthusiastic about the whole thing (was probably a sign), and not so long after that, I ended up being a bit of an unwell child. Awww. Well anyway I don’t remember anything before the age of 2, and the only memories I have of being 2 are pretty funny. One of them involved me wanting to slap my uncle, which I have no idea as to why I wanted to do that, and the other involves a spider. This was back when as a toddler I didn’t afraid of anything, not even big enormous ****ing spiders. So I chased this big house spider around my room late at night, and me chasing it around woke my mum up, who caught it and killed it. I remember the next morning, the spider being on the kitchen table (wtf?), and I pushed its abdomen with my finger and some guts came out! Cooool.
Basically, I was a very energetic and inquisitive child despite the fact that I had a lot of difficulty breathing. Idiot doctors thought I had asthma but whatever it’s not like inhalers really do anything bad, in any case I was still more active than most lazy little ****s out there. The thing is, as much as I was an active child, I was a thinker too, so at the age of 2 my mum taught me the alphabet and how to read and write, even though I struggled with capital B for a while, I still think my writing turned out pretty decent considering I didn’t even say a word until I was in the latter half of my second year of life. So yeah, I read books from a very early age, and no I’m not going to pretend I read **** like War and Peace when I was still too short to use a real toilet, but I was actually ****ing literate, which sort of helped in the long run, because I did end up being way advanced in terms of my literacy skills. I do talk (and consequently type) in a somewhat ditsy fashion, but I actually proper English! You’d be surprised how few actually do, and most that do are foreigners.
I was a verbal machine gun even at this early age, probably aided by the books, but apparently I would engage in conversations with adults that weren’t childish babble, rather I would talk about things I’d read or learnt about, and in a somewhat intelligent fashion. I remember talking about dinosaurs a lot, but most of that age as you’d imagine is sort of hazy, so I’ll have to trust the word of the older people in my life on that one. Ultimately, I can’t imagine it being false, since I’ve never really engaged in childish babble, and my mental capacity was ahead of most people my age, and definitely ahead of all the people my age around me. What can I say, start young or something with your kids instead of giving them toys and going goo goo gaga and all that **** ******** white parents do. Most smart kids just have their brains exercised younger, plus natural talent, but nurture sure helps.
I’m going to just skip to school now (bypassing nursery) because you’re probably already bored. Anyway, my first year of primary (elementary) school was at a Church of England school, where we went to a church service every Friday (so I had my first sip of wine at 4 :3), but that’s not really that relevant, I just put that in to sound cool (although it is true). I really did like my time at that school, it may have only been one year, but I made quite a few friends, and yeah so I was 4 going on 5, but I still miss some of my friends from there, and I think about them from time to time. I was really protective of my friends at school, I used to look after this haemophiliac boy a lot because of course he was a little boy who was prone to doing little boy things, most of which involve getting hurt which spells disaster if you have haemophilia. Funnily enough though, once we brought in our dinosaur models for a school display, and the haemophiliac was trying to displace my best friend’s model and put his own one there (when my best friend was absent). Of course hewas ****ing with my best friend’s ****, so I was like “oh heeeeeeeeeeeeeell no!” but without the words, instead I kinda just jabbed him in the arm with my Diplodocus model so he’d realise that **** was not right. Hey it was just a poke, and honestly didn’t really know that much about haemophilia, or even what the condition actually was, just that him getting hurt or cut was very bad, and all I did was poke so I didn’t think it was serious business. Riiiiiiiiight? Well apparently Miss Davies thought otherwise and flipped her **** at me and I got sent out. Now this was the most terrible moment, and got me into more trouble but hey it was totally called for, and it’s entirely women’s fault just like everything bad that happens, even Hitler. So anyway, Miss Davies told me to stay there and stand, and I’m like okay. Then this other assistant teacher who I can’t remember the name of but will always remember her sour**** face and short brunette hair that ****ing cow, she walked down the corridor into our class, she was like “sit down!”.
“But Miss Davies said-“
“Sit down!”
And I’m like fine and sit down D:
Miss Davies then comes out and sees me sitting down and now won’t allow me back into the class because I’m sitting down, and then she starts telling me to apologise to her, which I refuse to do because that ****ing slag told me to sit down. Then she’s like fine then you stand up and wait outside longer.
So that’s what I did, except then sour**** comes out the class and sees me sitting down, and makes me stand up, and now I’m kinda mad, so I say no because Miss Davies told me to stand up, and because you made me sit down now she won’t let me back in the class, so I’m not going to sit down, because I want to be let back in the class. She gets mad at me and threatens that she’s going to tell Mrs Harvey (the headmistress), but then I wasn’t exactly bothered because Mrs Harvey loved me so whatever. Anyway, the ***** didn’t call Mrs Harvey because she realised that even at age 5 my intellect and ability to reason was above that of her puny female brain, so she went back in and started pissing and moaning to Miss Davies about how I was being rude. So Miss Davies comes out and tells me to apologise to her, and it this point, I told both of them to **** off. As you can imagine, that didn’t sit very well, and I got sent to Mrs Harvey forreals this time. At first she was a bit angry, but then she asked for the other teachers to leave, then I totally cried and hugged her and told her how unfair they were being (and they ****ing were), and she decided that it was totally not my fault, although she was a bit surprised I had such language at that age. It’s kinda hard not to learn it with all the older brothers and sisters around in the school though, plus all the big kids loved me for some reason, so they taught me how to be a foul mouthed little brat from a young age.
And that’s probably one of my most prominent memories of that school before I moved the the primary school I’d call home for the rest of my primary education. Now this school was pretty cool, well actually if you look at it, it really wasn’t, but I loved the experience and so I think it’s cool. Anyway my first day there was pretty ****ing gay, first of all, they asked a girl to look after me. Big ****ing mistake, girls are satan spawn, the ***** literally ditched me completely lost as soon as break time hit. Now I dunno where the **** she went, and see our school was split into juniors and infants, and at the time I was an infant, but somehow I ended up straying into the junior school and into the playground. Of course I was totally lost there and didn’t ****in’ recognise a soul, but the caretaker (Mr. Adolphe, true legend), noticed I was a little smaller than the average kid there and completely alone, so he took me back into the infant school and showed me where the playground was, yay! Even more yay, the ****ing slag who made no effort to even do her job of showing me where stuff was got shafted, and so I was placed with another kid, who was a boy. Little boys are actually far more compassionate than little girls. In fact, men are just nicer people than women. This is going to be a very recurrent theme in my childhood years, and again, inb4 EXPLAINS A LOT LOL.
So I settled in nicely, I made friends with the boys, I was one of the better ones at football (soccer for you American plebs) so I fit in pretty quickly with the group that played. Also the school I went to in my first year was in a rougher neighbourhood (hence being able to tell a teacher to **** off at 5), and so despite being attacked by the bully of our class, I managed to hold my own. He did end up smashing me through a fence, but I did beat up his lackey at least. Oh by the way, the classroom bully is my best friend of all to this day, pretty funny how that turned out, but I guess beating up his lackey gained his respect. It was weird though, I was perhaps the only boy in my class who wasn’t really really in a distinct group. Despite me hating girls for being stupid (but then all boys did at that age because without being blinded by their penises they didn’t really tolerate them), I got along with them because I was actually comfortable with talking. Weirdly enough I was like the only boy invited to several girls’ birthday parties, one of them is now like a model, bow chika wow wow, everyone loves dem mixed girls. But anyway, even though boys generally get along, there was somewhat of a divide, and sadly most of that was caused by parents, and you know, I learned from an early age that adults were pretty big arseholes, and that was one of the factors in it. Also, did I mention that my teacher for that year was the daughter of Premier League referee Gerald Ashby? I thought it was cool, and so did most the boys. So anyway, I was pretty well liked, and I managed to be friends with everyone in the class, something that nobody else could pull off because everybody had at least one enemy. This was actually kinda to maintain because of being caught in the middle of a lot of crap, but unlike girls, boys are generally forgiving and a lot more accepting as long as you’ve still got their back. Before I move on though, I’ll talk about one incident that year in which my foul mouth got me in hot water again. So like I’ve said before, I wasn’t the most healthy of children, I may have been active and very capable given my condition, but I still had breathing difficulties. Anyways one of my friends, he had (and still has) problems... to say the least. Anyway, he was a fatty of a child, and he decided it would be a good ****ing idea to sit on my chest before break time, and as much I as I told him to get off, he just wouldn’t, and it’s not like I had to strength to get him off either. Ultimately I ended up saying “Get off you’re killing me you ****ing idiot.” Of course I CALLED HIM THE F WORD, so he immediately gets up and tells the teacher, who completely and utterly vilified me for using SUCH FOUL LANGUAGE and how it is so absolutely unacceptable, you know, because you wouldn’t if someone was suffocating you to death. Nobody even listened when I said why, and my friend’s mum had a period all over the situation and wouldn’t talk to mine for a good while, obviously because they taught me, you know, even though I’d get a whack around the mouth from my mother if she heard me say shut up, right, stupid cow. Did I mention how basically everything bad in my childhood was because of women? That eventually blew over though and funnily enough I’m still friends with the guy, I actually saw him two days ago and we hang out reasonably regularly, he wants to be an officer in the army and he wants to go off to some Arabic country and kill people. Well, I have to say, it probably suits him, a lot better than when he was trying for medicine LOL. Nice career flip. I told you he had problems.
So anyway, it’s weird, we never had any black boys in our class, but we had several black girls, and in the other classes were the black boys but no black girls. Was always an interesting observation, I don’t get why, but it’s funny, basically our class was the white boy class, save for like one Indian and one Chinese boy. We had a Japanese boy for one year and then a Taiwanese boy for the last 2 years, but ultimately it was pretty much white boy central. The funny thing is, our class was the most vicious, aggressive, and consequently bad*** class there was. All the other classes were pansies trying to be all cool and trying to flirt with the girls in our class in the last two years (because our girls were the most attractive), but where they tried and failed, we didn’t try and just ****ed **** up, the **** being playground monitors, the boys from other classes, and the girls a lot of the time. Usually though we wouldn’t hit the girls unless they directly challenged us, although my friend with problems would beat the **** out of them without warning. It was great, he could always do dirty work and get away with it because teachers literally would let him get away with murder.
Man, tangent. So Let’s go back to year 2 of infant school and final year of it. It wasn’t really all that memorable, but it was when the school wide yo-yo craze started. We all know about fads, and I think they’re great. To this day after a few minutes of rust shaking I can still walk the dog, rockt the cradle, go around the world, forward pass, it’s great really. I’m obviously not he best with a yo-yo, but I think I’m pretty good. It’s all because of the fad! I remember first my parents thought it would just be a short bull**** fad so they got me some cheapass thing that cost like 50p. After a couple weeks I realised this really wasn’t cutting it, and asked for a real goddamn yoyo, so I got me my first real one along with my brother, a ProYo II! At that time, the ProYo II didn’t have a sleep function, I think they do now, I don’t know this was literally like 13 years ago and a lot has probably changed, but yeah it was actually great as a transitional yoyo. It was comfortable, fluid, and great for mastering the basics, I loved it. Yoyos stayed cool for the whole year, and into year 3, which was the beginning of Junior School! It was in this year that I got a ProYo Ultimate (and not a Bumblebee, dunno why my parents always ****ing skanked out on me like that), but needless to say it was a bloody amazing yoyo, and I learned all the baddest tricks with that particular one. Just so you know, the reason I wanted a Bumblebee is that it’s fantastic for looping tricks, also back then yoyos were far more expensive than they are now, probably because all the kids were going nuts for them.
Anyway, my teacher in year 3 was called Miss Kill (best name ever, enough reason not to hate her), and he was pretty cool. She was young, blonde, and sometimes when she would bend forward my friend and I would try and get a peek down her top to see some tats. 7 going on 8 whatever, Teran wanted him some bosoms. This was the year when I found out all about sex. You know it’s funny, I used to think it was when I was around 9, but now that I’ve been writing this, I remember the whole bosom craze and the oov oov (obviously the noises a woman makes when you’re pounding her), and the whole “GIVE IT TO ME BABY, UHUH UHUH”. Also this was the time of the dot com boom, and back when the internet was still all pretty new to parents, they had zero ****ing idea of what sort of things we’d find on there. Funnily enough, my first encounter with pornographic content was NOT because I was intentionally searching for it. Basically, back in those days you’d pretty much type whatever you were looking for and add .com to the end and you’d get what you wanted, hence the term dotcom boom. So we all watched wrestling back then (I still do), and everyone wanted to be muscular and steroidal like they were. So my friend told me about some site, and he’d actually said bodybuilding.com, but because he kept calling it muscle building, that’s what stayed in my had as I went home and typed it in the Freeserve browser (remember when all the ISPs had their own browsers on that cute little CD?). Needless to say, it wasn’t about building muscle, although I guess it was some form of exercise. Well... I don’t know exactly how what that woman was doing with that horse could be deemed exercise, but hey seemed pretty intense. In any case, I was broken in young, very young, and after that I’d just type in smutty words and add .com to the end and voila I’d get porn! This was also before the days of broadband, so using the internet would actually disable the phone line, because of this not many people were on the internet for very long during the day, and because of this going to all these dodgy sites didn’t really cause you to get viruses. It was really a wonderful time. Because I was an unwell child, I stayed home more than most kids, and since I couldn’t go out stuff like videogames and the computer were the things my mum would entertain me with if I had no books to read or was just generally bored, she always kept me from getting depressed. So I owe a lot of my passion for gaming and my comfort with computers to my mother. I’m not exactly the world’s best when it comes to computers, but I’d still say I’m far more proficient than most people of my generation (who are themselves pretty proficient), not to mention I have certain areas of knowledge that not even some more comfortable computer users have. So yay for me.
So now then, what was it that truly made year 3 iconic? What was it that finally phased yoyos out, the thing that hadn’t become a fad but a genuine passion among a lot of the boys and even girls out there. The school year 1998-1999. Those years should definitely ring a bell for you guys, I hope they do. This was when a bombshell was dropped on the Western world from an island called Japan, and you know when I think about it, it is this bombshell that ultimately created the weeaboo phenomenon, but there are always small negatives to otherwise the greatest positive. This was the start of Pokémon, and kids now who say only really remember getting into it from Gold version already caught it in its decline. Sure, the franchise hasn’t exactly declined into obscurity, as if it ever could, but man anyone close to my age or older will know full well how Pokémon swept in an destroyed every possible thing that could compete for kids’ attention. Man did it grab our attention, and mine. You know, I’ve already written so many ****ing words and still managed to glaze over these years of my life, I think I really need to just cut it off here and continue another part at a later date, I’ve already gone on, but I realise that this is all just too much, this is actually coming close to 4000 words. SO, stay tuned as I pretty much dedicate an entire blog to just one year of Pokémon, and perhaps after I’m done with the good and fun of school, I’ll touch back on some other parts of my early childhood. This has been so fun writing about, I really did forget how great life was, how great the games were, how great the music was, how good a person I was (I really was).
So, if you can bear it, I can write more, or like, I could just go through it all on the show with Falcon, it would be fun, even if it does take hours.
Disclaimer: This is long, VERY LONG.
And it is badly written, I kinda just jumped all over the place, and I'd actually intended to go through my whole pre pubescent life, basically up until 2002, but alas, I'd already written way too much and missed too much out in the stuff I was writing about. But hey, if you wanna know a little bit, here it is. It's not so detailed in some areas, and I am kinda sad about that, but bear with it, and I'm going to write future blogs to flesh it out.
So....
My life has been pretty weird, but everyone has their own unique story to tell. I’m just going to talk about life up until the point of early adolescence. When I look back, I always find my childhood was the best period of my life, not necessarily because of the cliché notions of being free from responsibility (although that doesn’t exactly hurt), but mainly just because of the times themselves. It’s weird too, my childhood was filled with a lingering shadow, that shadow being I wasn’t expected to live long enough to even sprout pubic hair, but you know, it’s funny, when I think about it, it’s probably part of what made my childhood so good.
So before I get into that story anyway, I’ll just talk about me from birth, because I was pretty cool as a very young child. I was born quite large (and now I’m 5’9” and 133lb >___>), and also my nose was completely squished in! I looked like a cross between a monkey and a sphynx cat that had been left in the bath too long and pruned up, but anyway, I kinda ended up okay, and a week or so later until about the age of 12 I looked like a Chinese boy. So, I stopped breastfeeding pretty early because I apparently was really unenthusiastic about the whole thing (was probably a sign), and not so long after that, I ended up being a bit of an unwell child. Awww. Well anyway I don’t remember anything before the age of 2, and the only memories I have of being 2 are pretty funny. One of them involved me wanting to slap my uncle, which I have no idea as to why I wanted to do that, and the other involves a spider. This was back when as a toddler I didn’t afraid of anything, not even big enormous ****ing spiders. So I chased this big house spider around my room late at night, and me chasing it around woke my mum up, who caught it and killed it. I remember the next morning, the spider being on the kitchen table (wtf?), and I pushed its abdomen with my finger and some guts came out! Cooool.
Basically, I was a very energetic and inquisitive child despite the fact that I had a lot of difficulty breathing. Idiot doctors thought I had asthma but whatever it’s not like inhalers really do anything bad, in any case I was still more active than most lazy little ****s out there. The thing is, as much as I was an active child, I was a thinker too, so at the age of 2 my mum taught me the alphabet and how to read and write, even though I struggled with capital B for a while, I still think my writing turned out pretty decent considering I didn’t even say a word until I was in the latter half of my second year of life. So yeah, I read books from a very early age, and no I’m not going to pretend I read **** like War and Peace when I was still too short to use a real toilet, but I was actually ****ing literate, which sort of helped in the long run, because I did end up being way advanced in terms of my literacy skills. I do talk (and consequently type) in a somewhat ditsy fashion, but I actually proper English! You’d be surprised how few actually do, and most that do are foreigners.
I was a verbal machine gun even at this early age, probably aided by the books, but apparently I would engage in conversations with adults that weren’t childish babble, rather I would talk about things I’d read or learnt about, and in a somewhat intelligent fashion. I remember talking about dinosaurs a lot, but most of that age as you’d imagine is sort of hazy, so I’ll have to trust the word of the older people in my life on that one. Ultimately, I can’t imagine it being false, since I’ve never really engaged in childish babble, and my mental capacity was ahead of most people my age, and definitely ahead of all the people my age around me. What can I say, start young or something with your kids instead of giving them toys and going goo goo gaga and all that **** ******** white parents do. Most smart kids just have their brains exercised younger, plus natural talent, but nurture sure helps.
I’m going to just skip to school now (bypassing nursery) because you’re probably already bored. Anyway, my first year of primary (elementary) school was at a Church of England school, where we went to a church service every Friday (so I had my first sip of wine at 4 :3), but that’s not really that relevant, I just put that in to sound cool (although it is true). I really did like my time at that school, it may have only been one year, but I made quite a few friends, and yeah so I was 4 going on 5, but I still miss some of my friends from there, and I think about them from time to time. I was really protective of my friends at school, I used to look after this haemophiliac boy a lot because of course he was a little boy who was prone to doing little boy things, most of which involve getting hurt which spells disaster if you have haemophilia. Funnily enough though, once we brought in our dinosaur models for a school display, and the haemophiliac was trying to displace my best friend’s model and put his own one there (when my best friend was absent). Of course hewas ****ing with my best friend’s ****, so I was like “oh heeeeeeeeeeeeeell no!” but without the words, instead I kinda just jabbed him in the arm with my Diplodocus model so he’d realise that **** was not right. Hey it was just a poke, and honestly didn’t really know that much about haemophilia, or even what the condition actually was, just that him getting hurt or cut was very bad, and all I did was poke so I didn’t think it was serious business. Riiiiiiiiight? Well apparently Miss Davies thought otherwise and flipped her **** at me and I got sent out. Now this was the most terrible moment, and got me into more trouble but hey it was totally called for, and it’s entirely women’s fault just like everything bad that happens, even Hitler. So anyway, Miss Davies told me to stay there and stand, and I’m like okay. Then this other assistant teacher who I can’t remember the name of but will always remember her sour**** face and short brunette hair that ****ing cow, she walked down the corridor into our class, she was like “sit down!”.
“But Miss Davies said-“
“Sit down!”
And I’m like fine and sit down D:
Miss Davies then comes out and sees me sitting down and now won’t allow me back into the class because I’m sitting down, and then she starts telling me to apologise to her, which I refuse to do because that ****ing slag told me to sit down. Then she’s like fine then you stand up and wait outside longer.
So that’s what I did, except then sour**** comes out the class and sees me sitting down, and makes me stand up, and now I’m kinda mad, so I say no because Miss Davies told me to stand up, and because you made me sit down now she won’t let me back in the class, so I’m not going to sit down, because I want to be let back in the class. She gets mad at me and threatens that she’s going to tell Mrs Harvey (the headmistress), but then I wasn’t exactly bothered because Mrs Harvey loved me so whatever. Anyway, the ***** didn’t call Mrs Harvey because she realised that even at age 5 my intellect and ability to reason was above that of her puny female brain, so she went back in and started pissing and moaning to Miss Davies about how I was being rude. So Miss Davies comes out and tells me to apologise to her, and it this point, I told both of them to **** off. As you can imagine, that didn’t sit very well, and I got sent to Mrs Harvey forreals this time. At first she was a bit angry, but then she asked for the other teachers to leave, then I totally cried and hugged her and told her how unfair they were being (and they ****ing were), and she decided that it was totally not my fault, although she was a bit surprised I had such language at that age. It’s kinda hard not to learn it with all the older brothers and sisters around in the school though, plus all the big kids loved me for some reason, so they taught me how to be a foul mouthed little brat from a young age.
And that’s probably one of my most prominent memories of that school before I moved the the primary school I’d call home for the rest of my primary education. Now this school was pretty cool, well actually if you look at it, it really wasn’t, but I loved the experience and so I think it’s cool. Anyway my first day there was pretty ****ing gay, first of all, they asked a girl to look after me. Big ****ing mistake, girls are satan spawn, the ***** literally ditched me completely lost as soon as break time hit. Now I dunno where the **** she went, and see our school was split into juniors and infants, and at the time I was an infant, but somehow I ended up straying into the junior school and into the playground. Of course I was totally lost there and didn’t ****in’ recognise a soul, but the caretaker (Mr. Adolphe, true legend), noticed I was a little smaller than the average kid there and completely alone, so he took me back into the infant school and showed me where the playground was, yay! Even more yay, the ****ing slag who made no effort to even do her job of showing me where stuff was got shafted, and so I was placed with another kid, who was a boy. Little boys are actually far more compassionate than little girls. In fact, men are just nicer people than women. This is going to be a very recurrent theme in my childhood years, and again, inb4 EXPLAINS A LOT LOL.
So I settled in nicely, I made friends with the boys, I was one of the better ones at football (soccer for you American plebs) so I fit in pretty quickly with the group that played. Also the school I went to in my first year was in a rougher neighbourhood (hence being able to tell a teacher to **** off at 5), and so despite being attacked by the bully of our class, I managed to hold my own. He did end up smashing me through a fence, but I did beat up his lackey at least. Oh by the way, the classroom bully is my best friend of all to this day, pretty funny how that turned out, but I guess beating up his lackey gained his respect. It was weird though, I was perhaps the only boy in my class who wasn’t really really in a distinct group. Despite me hating girls for being stupid (but then all boys did at that age because without being blinded by their penises they didn’t really tolerate them), I got along with them because I was actually comfortable with talking. Weirdly enough I was like the only boy invited to several girls’ birthday parties, one of them is now like a model, bow chika wow wow, everyone loves dem mixed girls. But anyway, even though boys generally get along, there was somewhat of a divide, and sadly most of that was caused by parents, and you know, I learned from an early age that adults were pretty big arseholes, and that was one of the factors in it. Also, did I mention that my teacher for that year was the daughter of Premier League referee Gerald Ashby? I thought it was cool, and so did most the boys. So anyway, I was pretty well liked, and I managed to be friends with everyone in the class, something that nobody else could pull off because everybody had at least one enemy. This was actually kinda to maintain because of being caught in the middle of a lot of crap, but unlike girls, boys are generally forgiving and a lot more accepting as long as you’ve still got their back. Before I move on though, I’ll talk about one incident that year in which my foul mouth got me in hot water again. So like I’ve said before, I wasn’t the most healthy of children, I may have been active and very capable given my condition, but I still had breathing difficulties. Anyways one of my friends, he had (and still has) problems... to say the least. Anyway, he was a fatty of a child, and he decided it would be a good ****ing idea to sit on my chest before break time, and as much I as I told him to get off, he just wouldn’t, and it’s not like I had to strength to get him off either. Ultimately I ended up saying “Get off you’re killing me you ****ing idiot.” Of course I CALLED HIM THE F WORD, so he immediately gets up and tells the teacher, who completely and utterly vilified me for using SUCH FOUL LANGUAGE and how it is so absolutely unacceptable, you know, because you wouldn’t if someone was suffocating you to death. Nobody even listened when I said why, and my friend’s mum had a period all over the situation and wouldn’t talk to mine for a good while, obviously because they taught me, you know, even though I’d get a whack around the mouth from my mother if she heard me say shut up, right, stupid cow. Did I mention how basically everything bad in my childhood was because of women? That eventually blew over though and funnily enough I’m still friends with the guy, I actually saw him two days ago and we hang out reasonably regularly, he wants to be an officer in the army and he wants to go off to some Arabic country and kill people. Well, I have to say, it probably suits him, a lot better than when he was trying for medicine LOL. Nice career flip. I told you he had problems.
So anyway, it’s weird, we never had any black boys in our class, but we had several black girls, and in the other classes were the black boys but no black girls. Was always an interesting observation, I don’t get why, but it’s funny, basically our class was the white boy class, save for like one Indian and one Chinese boy. We had a Japanese boy for one year and then a Taiwanese boy for the last 2 years, but ultimately it was pretty much white boy central. The funny thing is, our class was the most vicious, aggressive, and consequently bad*** class there was. All the other classes were pansies trying to be all cool and trying to flirt with the girls in our class in the last two years (because our girls were the most attractive), but where they tried and failed, we didn’t try and just ****ed **** up, the **** being playground monitors, the boys from other classes, and the girls a lot of the time. Usually though we wouldn’t hit the girls unless they directly challenged us, although my friend with problems would beat the **** out of them without warning. It was great, he could always do dirty work and get away with it because teachers literally would let him get away with murder.
Man, tangent. So Let’s go back to year 2 of infant school and final year of it. It wasn’t really all that memorable, but it was when the school wide yo-yo craze started. We all know about fads, and I think they’re great. To this day after a few minutes of rust shaking I can still walk the dog, rockt the cradle, go around the world, forward pass, it’s great really. I’m obviously not he best with a yo-yo, but I think I’m pretty good. It’s all because of the fad! I remember first my parents thought it would just be a short bull**** fad so they got me some cheapass thing that cost like 50p. After a couple weeks I realised this really wasn’t cutting it, and asked for a real goddamn yoyo, so I got me my first real one along with my brother, a ProYo II! At that time, the ProYo II didn’t have a sleep function, I think they do now, I don’t know this was literally like 13 years ago and a lot has probably changed, but yeah it was actually great as a transitional yoyo. It was comfortable, fluid, and great for mastering the basics, I loved it. Yoyos stayed cool for the whole year, and into year 3, which was the beginning of Junior School! It was in this year that I got a ProYo Ultimate (and not a Bumblebee, dunno why my parents always ****ing skanked out on me like that), but needless to say it was a bloody amazing yoyo, and I learned all the baddest tricks with that particular one. Just so you know, the reason I wanted a Bumblebee is that it’s fantastic for looping tricks, also back then yoyos were far more expensive than they are now, probably because all the kids were going nuts for them.
Anyway, my teacher in year 3 was called Miss Kill (best name ever, enough reason not to hate her), and he was pretty cool. She was young, blonde, and sometimes when she would bend forward my friend and I would try and get a peek down her top to see some tats. 7 going on 8 whatever, Teran wanted him some bosoms. This was the year when I found out all about sex. You know it’s funny, I used to think it was when I was around 9, but now that I’ve been writing this, I remember the whole bosom craze and the oov oov (obviously the noises a woman makes when you’re pounding her), and the whole “GIVE IT TO ME BABY, UHUH UHUH”. Also this was the time of the dot com boom, and back when the internet was still all pretty new to parents, they had zero ****ing idea of what sort of things we’d find on there. Funnily enough, my first encounter with pornographic content was NOT because I was intentionally searching for it. Basically, back in those days you’d pretty much type whatever you were looking for and add .com to the end and you’d get what you wanted, hence the term dotcom boom. So we all watched wrestling back then (I still do), and everyone wanted to be muscular and steroidal like they were. So my friend told me about some site, and he’d actually said bodybuilding.com, but because he kept calling it muscle building, that’s what stayed in my had as I went home and typed it in the Freeserve browser (remember when all the ISPs had their own browsers on that cute little CD?). Needless to say, it wasn’t about building muscle, although I guess it was some form of exercise. Well... I don’t know exactly how what that woman was doing with that horse could be deemed exercise, but hey seemed pretty intense. In any case, I was broken in young, very young, and after that I’d just type in smutty words and add .com to the end and voila I’d get porn! This was also before the days of broadband, so using the internet would actually disable the phone line, because of this not many people were on the internet for very long during the day, and because of this going to all these dodgy sites didn’t really cause you to get viruses. It was really a wonderful time. Because I was an unwell child, I stayed home more than most kids, and since I couldn’t go out stuff like videogames and the computer were the things my mum would entertain me with if I had no books to read or was just generally bored, she always kept me from getting depressed. So I owe a lot of my passion for gaming and my comfort with computers to my mother. I’m not exactly the world’s best when it comes to computers, but I’d still say I’m far more proficient than most people of my generation (who are themselves pretty proficient), not to mention I have certain areas of knowledge that not even some more comfortable computer users have. So yay for me.
So now then, what was it that truly made year 3 iconic? What was it that finally phased yoyos out, the thing that hadn’t become a fad but a genuine passion among a lot of the boys and even girls out there. The school year 1998-1999. Those years should definitely ring a bell for you guys, I hope they do. This was when a bombshell was dropped on the Western world from an island called Japan, and you know when I think about it, it is this bombshell that ultimately created the weeaboo phenomenon, but there are always small negatives to otherwise the greatest positive. This was the start of Pokémon, and kids now who say only really remember getting into it from Gold version already caught it in its decline. Sure, the franchise hasn’t exactly declined into obscurity, as if it ever could, but man anyone close to my age or older will know full well how Pokémon swept in an destroyed every possible thing that could compete for kids’ attention. Man did it grab our attention, and mine. You know, I’ve already written so many ****ing words and still managed to glaze over these years of my life, I think I really need to just cut it off here and continue another part at a later date, I’ve already gone on, but I realise that this is all just too much, this is actually coming close to 4000 words. SO, stay tuned as I pretty much dedicate an entire blog to just one year of Pokémon, and perhaps after I’m done with the good and fun of school, I’ll touch back on some other parts of my early childhood. This has been so fun writing about, I really did forget how great life was, how great the games were, how great the music was, how good a person I was (I really was).
So, if you can bear it, I can write more, or like, I could just go through it all on the show with Falcon, it would be fun, even if it does take hours.
