France, aged 12
School trip to Normandy. 3 days of squealing little kids and drunk teachers, with an unusual twist.

On the first day I got on swimmingly with a girl on the coach. We spent most of 6 hours talking and flirting like buggery. I go to bed thinking about her. The rest of the boys in my room are still in the "girls are icky" phase, and so aren't interested in anything I have to say about her or any other girls present. Anything I do say is passed on. Being an overly sexual 12 year old with a trio of gossipy eunechs, my every explicit word is passed on, and as a result I get dumped the next day. Also, everyone thinks I'm a pervert because I'm mature enough to like girls. Nobody except the socially retarded talks to me from then on.

Second day, we go to Bayeux. While visiting a castle, I somehow become seperated, along with my socially retarded friends, and we spend an enjoyable afternoon lying on a sloped concrete embankment, eating crepes. Very nice.

However, the second night sucked big fat donkey cocks. Someone broke into a girls room, messed things up, and took a giant, unflushable shit. The bitchy popular girls immediately start the theory that it was my socially retarded friend (who was sharing their room) that did it, and messed up the room to cover her tracks. The evening is spent with one roommate wrapping a chain round his knuckles in case "they" come back, and another sitting on his bed reading and being smuggly calm. Manic friend pins him against a wall by the throat to much cheering. I end up snogging said female friend out of pity and teenage horniness. Realise she mings at a later date.

Third day spent mostly on the beach 100 metres away. Brilliant until I fall down a big load of rocks and get sand thrown in my eye. I proceed to chase the guy who blinded me around the beach, and kick him a few times before his mates turn up and chase me off. Later that day, they throw rocks at my bobbing head as I wade around up to my neck in the filthy French sea. I cry lots. Teacher "on guard" too pissed to notice me crying and bleeding slightly as I walk past him en route to the hotel. Cunt. Turns out he was an alcoholic though.

On top of all that, I get totally bollocked when I get home for spending my souvenir money on a Time Crisis style game on the ferry. Through karmic retribution though, I feel sick from squinting down a sight too long, and making the most of other people's free refills of Pepsi during said journey.

Length r teh w00t!
(youthink, Thu 21 Apr 2005, 19:27, Reply)