So where to begin, or more to the point when?

An average morning in my life starts with me getting woke up by my alarm clock and hitting the “snooze” button 3 or 4 times to try and delay getting up, but eventually I have to give up and climb out of the bed or I’ll be late for school; plus I need to wee. I then go through the niceties of washing, getting dressed and having breakfast. I then sit and wait for my friend to arrive for the normal walk to school, as you can see my life is just one wild party after another. Ha. Just as I’m preparing myself for yet another day, my phone beeps to signal a text message has arrived. I pray to God its off Vodafone telling me about new offers or my Mum telling me how much trouble I’m in when I get home, but no it’s the inevitable, the unstoppable, it’s the good morning text of my girlfriend (at least that’s what she said she is, I think she is more a crazy stalker. Well that’s what her friends call her).

“Hello chicken. How are you? Hope your ok. Did you get my texts last night? I tried to phone but there was no answer. Miss you xxxxx”

I had a good mind to text back:

“Hello, since when have I been poultry? And yes I’m fine, well I was until you text me. Yes I did get your texts, all 300 of them and I know there was no answer that’s because I didn’t want to speak to you. How can you miss me? You saw me two days ago! The only way I’d miss you is with a shotgun, Jesus H. Christ”

 But I didn’t I just mumbled some nice typical boyfriend text. Bad thing is we got together under false pretense, I was blind drunk. I’d been flirting with her for a few days then in my hazed state I asked her out while downing a Stella Artois. Now its 9 months later, the beer has gone but she hasn’t! She thinks I’m her true love, if she gets told that I’ve been seen talking to another girl she goes mental, I can have no contact with other females. Normally I would just get rid of her but she has discovered my weakness. Crying. I cannot make people cry, I have an overwhelming sense to make people happy so how can I finish it when I know she would be in tears all over me?

Anyway back to my normal day. So when I finally arrive a school I make my way up to my form room and sit for about 20 minutes whilst our form tutor , does our register and gets the piss taken out of him about many things (once when everyone claimed he took Viagra he apparently cried, miserable get). Then when the bell rings its time for first lesson. Now the lesson I enjoy most, like a lot of pupils my age, is P.E. A chance to kick a ball around for an hour, whilst the rest of the school sits inside doing sod all, it’s the bollocks. My most hated of all lessons has to fall to I.T, now I enjoy a whiz on the internet as much as the next guy, I can type and do PowerPoint presentations,but that’s enough. But no my school has to make us do 2 hours of learning how to do pie charts and reconfigure macros and God knows what else when I’d much rather be in Math mucking about but getting some decent work done. But all the blame can’t go on the lesson some has to fall with the teacher, and she is a right cow. Honestly in the 4 years I’ve been at the school I haven’t seen her laugh, there has got to be something going on there. Like the old saying goes;

“If you can’t work, teach. If you can’t teach, teach I.T”

The thing that I hate most about school is the fakeness of teachers and mainly Senior Staff (that’s what they call the teachers in our school who get the most money) when they claim that students and pupils work together in harmony and co-operation between staff and students is common. Bullshit. We hate them, and they hate us. Everyone knows it, so why don’t they come out and say it? It’s like when you see our Prime Minister meeting some President like from Afghanistan or somewhere, we all know they would bomb us if they had the money and we would bomb them, if half our voters didn’t have relatives living there.

Also our school will put you in I.E (Internal Exclusion, it’s like a prison inside the school. You have to eat at different times than everyone else, aren’t allowed out at break and have one phone call home) for doing anything. When we use to have to wear ties, if you forgot your tie, you had a nice day in I.E with the smack-heads. I’ve heard that once someone had been in I.E for weeks for calling a teacher a “Muppet” after the teacher had claimed that “your mother and father must have done something wrong when you were small”. It’s like a bleeding dictatorship. I fancy giving old Mr. Bush a ring and saying the cookers have weapons of mass destruction hidden in the kitchen, but actually thinking of the food; they could have weapons of mass destruction in there.

So when I’m finally relieved of School I plod home thinking of the delights that await me, The Clinger from Hell has been texting me telling me about her empty house and all the pleasures that are ready for me. Well balls to that I’d rather sit on the couch watching Sky+ and talking to the dog. Eventually my mum will get back and put on tea and I’ll finally drop of to sleep around 10.30 p.m ready for another day in the life of the average 15 year old boy from Manchester.