Saturday, 17 January 2009

There is a certain breed of people

who sit under stairwells at college. Either they are too afraid to come out, or they know that their extremely pale dead looking skin will blister in natural light. Nevertheless they sit there, apparently doing nothing. The most frustrating thing is that when you enter the stairwell they fall deadly silent, and your footsteps seem to bang and echo around the concrete chamber. Then whilst you are ascending the stairs, one of them starts laughing. I think "Are they laughing at me? Why? I haven't done or said anything amusing. I haven't tripped thus far. I'm pretty sure I don't have a face like the elephant man." The only explanation can be that they find the idea of someone actually attending class amusing. One day I'd like to just walk into there holding an AK47 at hip height and just rip them into scarlet shreds. Then I could go into Lynher and do the same in there. Desicrate their pampered chest muscles. I'd only kill anyone with straightened hair and skinny jeans in Kenwyn. Then onto Helford where I think all students who think it's acceptable to bring an acoustic guitar to college to play on the grass will have to taste lead. At which point the building would probably be surrounded and I'd go into the main entrance, underneath the occulus and shoot myself in true rampage fashion.

So if I do suddenly snap one day then you know where not to be and what not to wear. Then when you survive you get to be on TV saying "He just seemed like your normal average guy."

This violent blog post is completely the fault of gory movies and games like GTA IV.

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