b3ta.com user Trogdos
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I didn't completely bluff my way through that Photography A-Level, ya know.

An 18-something teenager living in Brizzle Preston *shuddering at the slang*

Sometimes considered to be a bit erratic.
Probably one of the most accident prone people ever to exist.
Has a sister that closely resembles Courtney Love.

So I want to move to Australia by the time I'm 23, 25 at the latest.
Just started Uni to study Forensic Science & Anthropology.

Had no real social life to save up money and stuff. Realised that was shit, so hello junk food, booze and friends. It's important to get on the obesity horse at some point in life.


Recent front page messages:


Best answers to questions:

» Little Victories

Sweet Transvestite
My school had a "sponsored walk" thing every year to help raise money and stuff for stuff that probably wouldn't be bought until the kids who raised money for it had left (i.e. ME). We were encouraged to do the walk in fancy dress for the hell of it, which made it more bearable.

About a week before said sponsored walk, one of my best friends decided to come out as gay (Last weeks of Year 11 and all that) and got mocked to shit by the tards you'd probably expect. Various insults pertaining to cross-dressing and being a "Batty" were thrown about, and he was the shyest person I've ever met (Took me nearly a month to get a complete sentence out of him) - the bullies just thought they could get away with it because he'd never say anything to the teachers due to his almost non-existent self confidence.

Me and a few other friends had an idea that would be A) Funny as fuck and B) Good to try and get back at the bullies in our typical passive-aggressive way, misfits that we were.

Day of the sponsored walk, the five of us turned up to school in full Rocky Horror gear. Magenta and Riff-Raff (Me) in those weird space suit outfits from the end of the film, along with Rocky, Columbia and Frank-N-Furter (My gay friend) to be precise.

The looks (and cheers) we got were fantastic, and Frank-N-Furter flirted with the bullies from afar for a laugh at first, because they hadn't realised it was a guy in that corset. So when they happily sauntered over thinking it was one of the various bints in our year, my friend screamed "SURPRISE!" in their faces as he pulled off the wig to their looks of absolute horror at what they had just done. In front of about 30 other people in the school. The rumours spread like wildfire.

I guess giving them a taste of their own harassing medicine may not be much of a victory, but it was the most fun I'd had up until then.

Note: An undisclosed amount of alcohol may have been ingested prior to leaving "Frank's" house in our get-ups, mostly in the cases of Rocky and Frank, who wanted a bit of liquid confidence. Probably explains why we were so loud that day. "Frank" is no longer as shy as he was, and his 18th a few weeks ago raised him to new levels of courage (and loudness). Good for him, I say.
(Sun 13th Feb 2011, 17:44, More)

» Babysitters

The last resort is often the best.
Mum and Dad used to go out at least one night a week, their so-called "Date Night". My sister was often assigned to babysitting duty and complete control of the television remote against my complaints that I was missing Courage The Cowardly Dog.

So imagine my surprise when my sister had arranged to spend the night at her friend's on my parent's night out. Cue the 16 year old grunge girl from down the street, hair dyed green and all.

She was awesome. After her initial success at winning me over, she replaced my sister as supreme babysitter. She let me watch all the cartoons I wanted (at least until ten o clock), smuggled up those little fun-size bags of Haribo in her bra, introduced me to old horror films at the age of 8 (They're coming to get you, Barbara!) and in the later days of her babysitting me before she trundled off to Uni for some sort of physics degree, she started bringing her N64 up with her under the pretence there was homework in that bulging bag and we went tooth and nail at each other on Goldeneye and Mario Party.

She's partly to blame for my taste in films and music, and I try to copy her so much when babysitting my niece and nephew (We're often in a versus match on Left 4 Dead and my 9 year old nephew royally handed me my ass on Perfect Dark last week. I'm so proud.)

They don't make babysitters like that often enough, do they?
(Mon 1st Nov 2010, 20:12, More)

» Sticking it to The Man

Another quick one
I stuck IT to the man, and that's how I invented Cybermen.
(Tue 22nd Jun 2010, 6:33, More)

» Guilty Laughs

Pizzas and old ladies
Recent trip to the supermarket (Asdaaaaaaaaa, if you must know)

At that place that makes those pizzas that you can choose the toppings for - the slightly less unhealthy junk.
I go towards the counter pick up the most fattening pepperoni choked thing I can find, and turn around to head back to the trolley.

But no.

My fingers decided they didn't want to grip properly, so spinning quickly as I do, super pizza(*) flies out of my hand, straight into face of adorable old lady trundling slowly past the strange sounding/smelling cheeses..

Followed by me trying not to cause reason for a "Caution - Wet floor" sign to be placed where I stand with the laughter

Then I realise "What about the old 'un?"
After the clingfilm on the pizza detached from her face (taking half her makeup - I hadn't the heart to tell her), I expected a royal bollocking, as she looks quite a lot like my Nan

But no. (Again)
She laughs louder than me!

So i scramble for the slightly dolled up pizza on the floor, giggle a few "sorrys" ("sorry's?) and trundle off as far as I possibly can, until I see her on the bus stop later, one half of her face looking like a sweet old lady, the other looking like a fresh off the job granny hooker thanks to the pizza.

I must have pulled something laughing like that!

(*) Yes, Super Pizza.

Apologies for any length - I'm still new to this...
(Tue 27th Jul 2010, 16:52, More)

» "Needless to say, I had the last laugh"

Is this a form of irony?
When it comes to schoolwork, I've sort of always kinda been absolute bollocks at it. Pretty damn good in an exam, but in the classroom I'm as useful as a Magikarp that only knows Splash.
A disgusting chav that was in all of my lessons somehow had a fair bit of brains to him, and loved to constantly remind everyone that I was a total mong and that he was so much better (I liked to keep exam results to myself)

GCSE results day. Me: 3 A*s, 7 As and a Merit in ICT. And I'd barely revised.
Him: 5 Ds, 3 Fs, 1 G and a U in Maths.
Everyone who'd been belittled by him for the past 5 years had gotten better than him, and we spent about ten minutes taking turns asking what he'd gotten, and laughing in his face when we showed him our results. He looked like he wanted to melt, a la Wicked Witch of the West.

Saw him the other day on the way to college, he was getting preached at by a religious guy down town (Bristol people will probably know who I mean). He was on a break from working in his dad's burger van.
I feel damn amazing.
(Sat 5th Feb 2011, 19:59, More)
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