(The following was written for online listings magazine The Skinny, check out the link above)
No sooner had I read this month’s theme, it started. All my repressed memories of my school days started popping like giant acne in my brain.
Being skinnier than a super model with pig flu, my hair was cut by our neighbours “hairdresser” friend, my clothes were all hand-me-downs, combined with the NHS glasses I wore because my parents were too cheap to buy me cool specs, I looked like a puss faced, pubeless, mojo-free Austin Powers. I was the anti-Fonze.
I played drums in the school band, I did well in exams and was appalling at all sports. If there were a polar opposite point of being cool, I would have been standing right beside it with a goofy grin on my face.









