KEEP IT UP SON, TAKE A LOOK AT WHAT YOU COULD HAVE WON

ENDLESS NAMELESS

It's 22nd October, 1997, and my life has officially completely turned to shit. Having flunked out of the foundation theatre course I had been attending until July (which I only managed to beg my way onto in the first place by promising to also complete the BTEC in Performing Arts which I had flunked out of the previous academic year by the simple expedient of doing no work whatsoever beyond the performance related exercises – and try if you can to contemplate how supremely lazy someone would have to be to actually fail a BTEC in Performing Arts), I am no longer an unemployed  A-Level-equivalent student. Merely unemployed. For three years. With no qualifications beyond GCSE's, in an area of the country where youth unemployment is scary high, the wages for what shitty menial work does exist  is scary low, and where beating the shit out of long haired unemployed youngsters in the town centre of a weekend lingers in that grey area between recreation and amateur sport.

Basically, I am fucked.

Read More