Picture it: I'm 16, and starting college
And I'm slightly scared that I don't know anybody yet. My first lesson of Performing Arts BTEC is about to take place, and I'm not so sure whether I should be myself or try to be someone different.

Oh, and there's a clothespeg on my denim jacket.

Why a clothespeg? I have no idea. There was a washing line in the foreground of the studio where the lessons took place. No clothes were ever hung on it, just a plethora of coloured plastic pegs. I took one off and stuck it to my denim jacket. At 16, I found this was a good conversation piece. Albeit, between me and the janitor.

Luckily, the peg gets me noticed. "Ooh, what's that on your jacket?" "Heh, it's a clothespeg" "Wow! You must be some sort of mental! I'll talk to you for a while!"

The following day, I'm getting ready for college, and I decide to take the crazy peg business up a notch.

I walk into class with it on my ear.

People laugh. I assume, to be friendly. But sticking pegs on your ear turns out to be some sort of retarded act that no man is meant to do. Especially when he's in a new environment of studious people. Nevertheless, I'm adamant that my new crazy peg craze will catch on. It doesn't. But lunchtime, I've still got this fucking peg on my ear.

Can I just say, telling this story is pissing me off. I can''t believe I was such an immature cock.

Anyway, people are pretty much yelling at me now to take the peg off my tossing ear. Eventually, I do. But there's a problem. The metal spring inside the peg has now warped to the shape of the peg in the slightly ajar angle that is my ear, and has began to poke out of the peg.. and embed itself into the soft flesh that is my ear. So, when taking the peg out, I rip out a whole load of waxy flesh.

Tasty.
(__, Fri 1 Dec 2006, 15:06, Reply)