June

Ah, June. Well, what can I say? It's gonna be tough parting with you, it really is. You've been really great to me, as a month. No, really, you have. You absolutely have.

I mean, let's see...

Almost right away, off the bat, right when I cared, you gave me the answer, finally, of who River Song was. It was... well, not that game changing or consequential. The Doctor's already [SPOILERS n' stuff] been shot, we've already seen the child regenerate and we know Amy and Rory are her parents, and now we just know that she survived the whole ordeal the Doctor's going through now. Huh.

And the episode managed to be a bit mad while most of it happened in the first fifteen minutes or so. But anyway, June, you took it away before it could get any more insane and convoluted, and start to piss us off a bit like Russel T Davis did. (The only way it could be more insane is if the next episode was called 'Let's Kill Hitler'. Oh.)

Then you took me through that English exam, and made it so that it was the last exam that I had, and I thought this to be good. Also, you eventually cleared by cold up. That cold was a bugger.

Then it was off to a Chinese place, possibly called Ming Moon (but possibly not), which was £8 for an ALL DAY ALL YOU CAN FUCKING STUFF DOWN YOUR GULLET BUFFET OF PURE CHINESE AND THEN ICE CREAM AND SWEET BITS AND CHOCOLATE FOUNTAIN FOR DESERT of which my friend had at least for four portions of main course. I had only two.

And following that it was back off to college. And then you had to fuck it up, didn't you June? You really tried to fuck my shit right up there, didn't you, by giving me a timetable full of three hour lessons. Three. Hour. Lessons. Oh, so I'm in A2, upper sixth now, so that's all well and good. Three. Hour. Fucking. Lessons.

But, y'know what June? It's cool. One of my art sessions was dedicated to an artist who does some cool landscape stuff. By going right up to the landscape and slapping that paint right on to the side of his motherfucking van. It's art, Bear Grills style (I'm running out of light for the hills, better drink my own piss. Good God I hope he never reads this). And my photography sessions introduced me to Pete Ashton. I think Pete Ashton is a pretty cool guy; he shoots pictrues through viewfinders of cameras and doesn't afraid of anything (Oh look! Two meme culture references in one paragraph! I am on it). Also, he got the entire class using Tumblr and Flickr. So I use those now.

And d'you know why else it's cool? Cos I got to see mah fwiends again. So yeah, tryin' ta' fuck up mah' month, June, cos' it failed. Even when it rained, there were some days where it was hot as fuck, so there.

But, June, what's really sweet about you is that you still felt the need to make up for it again by giving me a really awesome past week.

On Saturday, I went up to town to visit some friends, all innocent like, when suddenly Tomska and Bing turn up for a YouTube gathering in Birmingham. Y'know, like the ones they never have in Birmingham. Cos' it would be shit. Cept' this one wasn't, cos' me and my brother went and chatted with Bing, then I went and sat with him in a big, posh, grown ups pub that was too hot, where we discussed why in my old blog post about youtube going a bit wank I was totally right, and how offensive Lady Gaga is to, well, most things. (But I still kinda like Paparazzi. But it's that her music keeps getting worse and worse, and she's rehashing her old and tried ideas, and it's all getting more and more hyped by media and critics, as if she's someone who stands out amongst artists for being anything other than a MASSIVE BEG.)

And then I pulled my brother up from his mates hanging spot at the canals, and we hall had a chat with Tom and Jamie about being too young for things, and how freaky it is that your dick is as old as you are (my dick is 17 years old. That's older than... than Slipknot. Or the 21st Century. Or your cat. By the time it's 20 I'll be wandering how it still works) and we basically had a jolly old time.

And the following day was insanely hot and so I sat in my garden under a parasol, drinking a glass of Pimms, reading Things the Grandchildren Should Know by Mark Oliver Everett, or Mr E off that band Eels, and it's a book literally everyone should read, even if you think by 'eels' I mean slippery creatures that live in the sea going all Pikachu on their preys asses.

On Monday I met up with some more friends, which I definitley have and are completely real and not imaginary or anything, on Tuesday I did some stuff looking at the daunting, looming shadow of the great castle in the distance just on top of the hill, aiming all it's arrows and catapults squarely at us, as we charge right at it armed only with bits of reading matter and knowledge of things we've been told not to worry about (and some dead poultry), that is the prospect of going to University. After which, I went to an epic house party.

And, apart from the Wednesday whereby I did some more looking-at-uni stuph, it's been pretty chillaxed since then.

So thanks June. It's been good, no, great. It really has. And I'm not just saying that. All those other months, this is what they've been building up to. Aw, look, you're blushing.

I can only anticipate to see what July has install for me, just around the corner; a trip to Wales, a trip to Island... s'all gurd.