Fuck me, it's hot...
Good. An articulate start to an articulate blog. Fantastic. Honestly, though, it's about 30 degrees right now. White people are not built for this weather, which brings up the very serious question as to why I chose to wear jeans, knowing full-well that it would indeed be this warm. Perhaps what worries me more so is that I still cannot bring myself to put some shorts on. Is something wrong with me (other than my brilliant affliction of genius)?
What else is there to say? Why do I ask so many questions? I may have developed a slight sun-burn. I desecrated my self-imposed alcohol ban and enjoyed a small French lager (Asda selected, of course) with a good sci-fi novel. I say good, I've read 80 pages, and the political and ethical ideology it puts forth deter me slightly. 'Starship Trooper' by Robert Heinlein; but it's well written and easy to engage with. Odd, really... his more popular title, 'Stranger in a strange land' was quite liberal and almost anarchic in its deploring of organised religion (much to my satisfaction). Perhaps I'm missing something. Perhaps it's an extended, highly ironic metaphor. We'll see.
In writing this, I took a break to visit the bathroom. I have since adorned a cool pair of green check shorts. Is it bad that only my bowels can motivate me?
Some background to my current situation: I've just completed about 13 GCSE exams. I've got another one tomorrow; statistics, but that'll hopefully be a piece of piss. On the whole, I think I've done pretty well, and the whole process has been largely relaxing. The ability to come and go as you please really does relieve unnecessary pressure. I'm also very much looking forward to beginning my A-levels. I've picked History, English Literature, Government & Politics and Sociology. They're all in a similar vein and are all conducive to my overall interest in history, hopefully forming a solid academic profile for university. I suppose that's why I'm looking forward to it, but I can tell that my positive thinking is pretty naive. I can be especially lazy and I recognise that my workload will be pretty intense.
This brings me onto my next point. Work. It doesn't exist. It just doesn't; at least not work for under-qualified 16 year olds. Yeah, the UK is essentially under austerity measures, and unemployment is high, but I'm brilliant. Why would the world deny the part-time retail sector of my presence?
In terms of the immediate future, I think it's fair to say that I'm going to circle into a pit of alcoholism and possibly recreational drug use for the summer. I'm off to Mexico on Friday for a week. Fun, a 10 hour plane journey to contemplate life, the universe and myself, then 7 days of unrealistically warm and humid conditions to continue to do so. Seriously, I do appreciate the fact that I'm flying first cla . ss to a 5* resort, but it would be so much cooler if Mexico's alcohol laws were more relaxed. Then I've got a Bad Religion gig to attend. Fun times. Then Halfway to New York, which could be cool. Then I'm off to Ireland to visit my ancestor's stamping grounds (yes, largely pointless, but it's probably not as fucking boiling as it is now). Then Zebrahead and finally Reading festival. Fit in sporadic drunkenness and GCSE results, and that's my summer sorted. Will blog again soon, with considerably less to write