Bored at uni
I was living with a few blokes in my final year of uni, and I never really saw eye-to-eye with them.

One night they'd all gone out on one of their regular jaunts to some puke-filled dingy club whilst I stayed in to write my dissertation. Being a bit bored of whatever feminist psychoanalytical claptrap I was reading at the time, I decided to venture into one of my housemate's rooms and take a peek at his rather conspicuous diary.

It was filled with the kind of sub-existential bullshit my housemates were so fond of - along the lines of "I'm scared of the future", "I'm going to be a great novelist" and "I need more confidence".

There were also mentions of all his friends and what he'd done with them, like going to parties and the beach and doing loads of drugs and sex. Each flatmate got mentioned at least a dozen times, but there was only one solitary reference to myself. It was:

April 17 2003
HENRY DID A MASSIVE POO TODAY.

I recall the incident in question, and it was rather large and wouldn't flush. I went out and came home to find ALL my flatmates and one of their friends gathered round the bowl giggling and variously describing it as being "like a trout" and "dark matter".

If that's what I'm remembered for creating I'll die a proud man.
( krang, Thu 1 Feb 2007, 17:04, Reply)