This is the earliest instance that I can remember calling upon the ground to swallow me whole. Going back to primary school, possibly around reception years. Most people’s toilet etiquette is still under development at this stage, I was no different. The catalyst in this episode was the shirt that my mother had provided me with. For a rapidly growing toddler, she customarily clothed me in a shirt that would have potentially fitted a child of ten, let alone a child already diminutive for his age. To clarify this shirt hung down way below my belt line.
At this age (like many hopefully) I sometimes required assistance when wiping. Just as a precautionary measure. This safety net, however, was not available when at school. Most teachers are not properly trained to deal with a child bent over unable to grasp the complexities of toilet paper. So I proceeded alone. Job done, no problems at all. A moment of triumph for a infant. One step towards adulthood. Next stop shaving. As the day progressed, however, there was a highly noticeable aroma of poo. Like a faecal black cloud looming over me. The other children had detected it, as had the teachers. I pleaded genuine ignorance. I far as I was concerned it was not emitting from me.
When I returned home the truth was revealed. My mother, possessing the jurisdiction to investigate further, believed me to have soiled myself. Pants down, no unwanted companions. Where was the smell coming from? She felt it necessary to bathe me and narrow down the possibilities. As I removed my disproportionately large shirt a considerable (and textured) stain became visible on my shirt tails. We have the culprit. In my haste whilst wiping I had somehow managed to trap my shirt between paper and cheeks. Effectively, I had ended up wiping my backside with the clothes I was still wearing. I believe this is the fundamental reason for my long term preference for tighter fitting shirts.
On a night of pre-legal drinking around my friends Grandma’s house we decided it would be a fantastic idea to strip down to our boxers, climb out of the living room window and run to the top of the village. Once all of us had de-clothed and exited the house we quickly reached our intended goal of a semi-streak and headed back. In our absence the owner of the house had awoken, assumed we had simply left the window open and passed out in the numerous vacant sleeping bags littered around the living room. She sensibly locked the window leaving us outside in the bleak November chill.
This left us with two options. Awaken a elderly lady from her slumber to answer the door to a ensemble of partially clad teenage boys or run through the village to my house where my parents had gone away for the night. We chose the latter, although it was considerably difficult explaining the situation when we returned for our clothes the following morning.
Details of the night included;
- Being ejected out of the only bar we were likely to get into on account of me projectile vomiting over the counter.
- Being sent into ASDA in the early hours to purchase oddly specific items. These included; A thong, rubber gloves and a copy of
- ‘Nuts’ magazine.
- Falling out of a moving car whilst going through McDonald’s drive through.
- Attempting to heroically walk home only to take three steps and plummet face first into a hedge.
- Being placed onto a child’s merry-go-round and spun around for at least 15 minutes, consequently, causing further projectile vomit.
- Receiving a wedgie so severe that it drew blood.
- Deciding it would be such a treat for my parents to collect as many traffic cones and signs to add to the overall décor of the garden.
- The clincher. When I finally returned home I was presumably incapable of all but the basic motor functions. Stairs were not an option by this point. Neither was making it to the toilet. By the account of my parents I was found sat upright on the living room sofa, in nothing but my already tattered boxers with a bowl of cereal balanced perfectly on account of my inebriated state of rigour mortise. Not only had I, once again been sick in the coal bin but it was the cat that had taken advantage of my attempted drunken snack consisting of coco pops. Both of us dealt with the shame of soiling the family home the next morning…amongst other things.
Psychical Graffiti
Hello Niall
By now you are at that stage were life is becoming interesting and you are on set to develop your own identity within the world. I also realise you may have a lot of worries and presumptions about the forthcoming future years. I hope to shed some light on what is to come, without spoiling the surprise, so to speak. Take these words as guidelines. Maybe you can change things, maybe certain aspects are best left without my input. Either way I hope you find this enlightening.
Do not worry about your height. You may be just over five foot now, but you will grow to around six foot two over the course of one summer. As far as looks go. You do alright. Even if I do say so myself. Excuse the irony of this sentence. Do not let this go to your head though. Your personality will become far more valuable and will certainly last longer than your looks. In case you are wondering you will find out that you look like your Grandad. I realise there is no current family resemblance. A certain event will open your eyes to this. Speaking of which, be sure to take better care of your eyesight.
You will never be one of those popular kids at high school or college but you will have a close group of friends of who will stay with you through the thick and thin. They will always be there for you, be sure to do the same. Don’t worry about grades. You do fine, without even trying. Although you probably should.
You will be a reserved and shy individual for most of your early teenage years. Girls will not even register until around the age of sixteen. Do not be alarmed by this. You make up for it. Try not to be as impulsive when it comes to relationships and always remember that it is a two way scenario. Be considerate with peoples emotions and do not take them for granted. Learn from your mistakes. If it feels right it’s because it is.
Stay in touch with family members. You may not think this now, but they are good listeners and will do anything to help you out. There will be times when they are your only option. Swallow your pride and ask for help every now and again. Few get through life completely independently.
Have some more consideration for your own well-being. It’s all very well playing the daredevil but realise that those close to you will worry. Understand that every action has a very real consequence. Both upon you and those around you. Try to eat more. You will be plagued by stomach ailments and severe intolerances to certain foods. Avoid spice. Be weary of Wednesdays.
You will have a mixed career. Despite what some may say you will do alright for yourself. Remember to take pride in what you do and your subsequent accomplishments. Whilst they may seem insignificant, they will always contribute to a better future.
Just accept Dad’s music is timeless like he always says. You will realise he is right.
Yours sincerely,
Niall
Picture this …
You are about to take an evening to it’s next logical step. You have set the scene, adjusted the mood and removed any potential interruptions. The next thing you know some wholly inappropriate piece of music has breached your defences and shattered both the atmosphere and possibly the windows.
Obviously, there is a whole compendium of untimely tunes out there, but these particular nuggets of musical genius really took the metaphorical biscuit. On a personal level at least.
5. Conker’s Bad Fur Day - The Great Mighty Poo Song
Quite why this was even incorporated into my music library still staggers belief. I’ll have to blame that particular incident down to my teenage immaturity. Lets just say its hard to keep a suitable level of composure. Especially, when inside your head you are singing about being a monstrous turd projecting toilet paper at a cartoon squirrel.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fAxKHeMvc2E
4. Limp Bizkit - Nookie
Whilst many would see this as seemingly relevant, to me it accurately described the entire situation. Namely, I was indeed doing it all for the ‘Nookie.’ Unfortunately the enthusiastic grin that then bestowed across my face upon hearing the anthem of infidelity, gave more away than words ever could.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JTMVOzPPtiw&ob=av2e
3. Snot - My Balls
‘MY BAWWWLLLLSSS , YAAAWWWWR CHIN. Repeat until said counterpart is fully convinced that you played the song on purpose and as a result, will defiantly not let you put your balls anywhere near her face.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H6uQoOWho-Q
2. Despised Icon - The Sunset Will Never Charm Us
For those that know me, I like my music aggressive. Now I don’t often subvert this preference on others behalf. They way I see it if you’re in my house, you listen to my music. On this occasion, however, I thought I’d compromise and prepared a suitable play list for someone who would often perceive a band like Nirvana as ‘too heavy.’ Unbeknownst to me this song had slipped into the mix and was in turn, inexplicably four times louder than everything else. The poor girl almost suffered a coronary and was left believing I favoured music that sounded like, and I quote; “A pig being pushed into a car wash.”
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g62ZFUrL42g
1. INXS - Suicide Blonde
Your thinking surely not. Michael Hutchence’s lusty tones could only improve a romantic encounter. Alas, when someone proceeds to inform you (at the point of no return) that they used to listen to this in secondary school, it causes a perplexing moral dilemma. The song came out in 1990, so that person was around 17 at the time. Nineteen years later….. You do the maths. My moment of triumph quickly evaporated.
