that’s me on the right with the short-dyke hair trying to be as far away as possible from the frat-like shenanigans because i felt uncomfortable with the whole fitting-in thing. for the most part everyone was friends before our exchange program to england began and had formed cliques, you know, that schoolish crap that’s exhausting and a total waste of time when you’re [me] trying to get shitty and be above it all and have one-nite-stands and have totally awesome stories to tell at breakfast the next morning while jilly and sally are talking about dad’s credit cards and the ugly purse they got from harrod’s which cost 90 quid.

gay dogs, not lying.

this one guy got his face totally messed up by these punks in oxford and he was rushed to hospital. they smashed his face with a brick ‘cos he was a mouthy stupid rich kid in their part of town, and was “marketably attractive” before this whole brick incident occurred.

the moral of the story is – don’t mess with british punks when you are a white canadian boy who looks like eminem.

this post is crap.