No! THIS is England
Based on real events that never actually happened. The names, dates, events and places have all been changed!
Coming to England and a Curious Meeting with a Canadian!
They say, sometimes, that it is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. This is a lie, an untruth, a fabrication of momentous proportions. Now, I am not expert on the matter. Nor am I all that experienced with women. But I loved… Once… Maybe twice. Certainly once. As a result I feel the phrase should be amended: It is better to forget about love and go play football like the rest of the children on your estate as you can’t afford the pregnancy, son. Obviously this amendment is meant only for Britain and should be adapted to the culture it is being used in. Classically, it would read: Do not love. Blunt perhaps, but it serves its purpose.
I was brought to this country at a young age so that I may have a better living. But I have found nothing but pain. Where once there were anarchists rebelling against the establishment there are not vegetarians with agendas! No longer did people cry Thatcher fucked the kids! Now it was a case of fast food, Barbies and sex corrupting the youth of today. In reality, but for culture, nothing was different. Dylan was wrong, the time they a-aren’t a changing’. England was still shit and it was still raining! Dit hierdie lewe is what they’d say back home. This is life. This is how it is to be. But there is something about his country, something that promotes self deprecation and pessimism. Something so… Gauche.
When the other children were out playing in the sun, I sat indoors entirely bereft of social situations and scanning the T.V. channels in order to expose myself to the wonders of X-Men and Power Rangers, I resigned myself early on to the life of a social pariah. So I created a comfort zone within my bedroom with my books, creating a mental wall of literary energy. Whilst other children went and played football in the park amongst the broken glass, I sat moodily on my bed with my curtains closed reading by torchlight. By choice! Finally, whilst other children satisfied themselves by indulging in sex and drugs I mixed Coco Pops and Ricicles- with equally satisfying results! Others went to parties and I watched The Rocky Horror Picture Show every week. Others fooled around with each other and experimented, I started a novel and others fell in love whilst I sat, alone, with no one and nothing to talk to.
This all changed after a series of events:
April 29th 2006
Purchased ‘Songs for Silverman’ by Ben Folds. Cost: £14.99, exorbitant.
Was introduced to a Canadian.
Began having odd feelings for the Canadian.
Stopped mixing cereals.
Got Lego stuck up my nose.
July 18th 2006
Met Canadian for the first time and fell, immediately, in love.
August 16th 2006
Saw Canadian for the last time. Life effectively ended.
Got Lego up my nose AGAIN!
Found the effectiveness of capital letters!
Gave up on my novel
Two years, seven months, twenty-five days and a fair few minutes later. A length of very weak rope, twenty seven aspirin and an astonishing amount of diet coke later. Seven arguments, thirty five hugs, one first kiss, two girlfriends, forty-eight kisses and five orgasms later and it’s still raining. I‘m still in love. We still don’t blame Thatcher for anything (though she’s nearly dead). Vegetarians still have agendas. This is England.