Monday, June 13, 2005

Back in day, Part 3: The cake out

The year is 1993, I'm 4 foot something, thin as a twig, I liked to call this time in my life, "when I got fat". After leaving Shaftsbury, my mum decided that she wanted us in a slightly safer environment, far-away from old white guys with long eyebrows. This place happened to be literary far away too. Theodore McClarey was a Seven Day-Adventist private school in Brixton(home of the thug, land of the drug dealer). It was ok, the sad thing about it was that it was only primary, so my beloved brother was left to go elsewhere. Anyway this is one the more routine bits of my life. Nothing much happened, apart from one thing, I got fat.
you've been Caked

At this lovely place we had a cook name Mrs. Burell(ber-rell). This lady could really cook, and best of all she made really good cake. So how did I get my hands on this cake, you ask? Well at the time my mum was studying at college for a degree in something or ano
ther(she's got about 10 different qualifications, lol), so she had to go in the evenings, plus she worked about 10 miles away. As a result she could never pick me up after school, While my brother went to school to far away to pick me up in time too. So every evening I had to wait at school for about 2=3 hours before I could go home. They had set-up an after school club for students like me, but by the time my mum got I was always the last one. Well in this after school club, we got to eat the left overs of the school dinners, for snacks. There were sausages, sandwiches, but what I wanted was the cake, with custard, and I got it, usually twice or three times a day. As you can imagine three portions of cake a day, 5 days a week for over a year... You do the math.
So with that I was fat, and I would stay that way for more than 10 years. Sad, maybe but I ate a lot of good food along the way. That's the strange thing, most people who are fat end up being like that this way, one period in your life, and then kaput, you are the Michelin man reincarnated.
Rockin n' rollin

Away from that major issue, I was pretty much the star student in my year again at this school. Not sure why I was so naturally smart, cause all I did was watch the Swat cats, and Jonny quest on cartoon network, ah those were the days. So anyways, I returned to being a goodie two shoes as my brother wasn't around to influence my actions, so no bunking, "graphin", or football. We had a tiny playground, so footie wasn't really an option, so that's partially why I'm so crap at football.
Well that pretty much wraps up another section of my life, part four comes next week, sorry for the late posting, I was too tired to write/type last night. Part four should be about how I ended up in Jamaica. Cya later

Oh I've never been good at maths, but here's a nice equation for ya number crunchers
you've been Caked+Homer=Rockin n' rollin

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