Some stuff I found from the old days…

Whilst trying to tidy my pit of a room, I found this gem from the days of Reigate College. I remember frequently going to the library and pretending to work by trying to type 1000 words before the end of the day… just to fill in the time I’d gained from bunking lectures, whilst waiting for the bus. I haven’t included the pictures from the original documents, as I’d have to scan them an and you wouldn’t get the original crazy positioning anyway… so I hope the text is good enough. All original spelling and grammer errors have been left in.

Anyways, here follows one fine example of such a time…

header: bringing you not including the header and footer 1000 words of pure enjoyment

The best thing to do in a situation like this is to try and type 1000 words before the end of college. Few, it’s going to be tough but I think I can do it. First of all I would like to thank James Waller for all his help writing this album, and for his inspiration and charm. Oh the days I felt like packing it all in but James said to me “You can’t get better than a Kwik Fit Fitter ‘cos we’re the ones to trust. But they didn’t get to be the best without hard work and dedication, so get to it piss face.” So here I am, on the release of my debut album with my great band, “Pants like a jockey”. The best part of the album is the 22 minute introduction track, “I’m just talking bollocks”. On recently pressing Alt, t and then w, I discovered the total words in the document so far to be approximately 145, and realised to my self, what am I going to look like with a beard and a mullet. I put on my wax jacket and wax cap, then picked up my six-shooter and strolled through the deserted streets, I stood beneath the tall water tower. Sammy the Snake was waiting there just like I told him. I heard the sound of hoof beats in the distance. I turned and there they were, the big mamma’s riding into town. The gang pulled up ahead of me, 60 years of age each I’d say, and their horses as strong as the knitting they wore. Sammy blew them all up with a hand grenade. I was scarred for life, as the grenade went of in front of me too. Poor old Sammy blew the legs off the water tower, and fell to his death. I now reside in the South Park community hospital for the criminally insane. Unfortunately the nurses are all beautiful brunettes who like to give patients money. I have to put up with this shit day in and day out until the skin on my body grows back. Foods blooming marvellous though, I get chips with everything, even my weetos in the morning, and the gorgeous chef that looks like Michael Warren often puts funny things in the pies, like this one time, he put an alarm clock with the bells on top in my steak and kidney pie. I cracked a tooth but it was sure worth it. That kidder. So I got out of hospital tomorrow, first thing I did was write in my diary. As I got into the second paragraph, I realised I didn’t have a diary, and had to scrub my desk clean in my house. Pity isn’t it. I decided the best thing to do tomorrow would be to have a kit-kat now. So the chances of coincidences being actual are wrong probably, can’t be sure, but I think that things are to sillyly coincidental to be a coincidence. So there gots to be a better explanation. Like cheese, cheese can be explained, so I think all coincidences can be explained it its just going to take longer than it did to explain cheese. The last time I picked up cheese today was earlier. So I got my disc back cos if you don’t worry I think things in life just sort them selves out in the end. I mean if you think about it to much then it’s just going to get out of hand but listening to the hives on the other hand is quite cool and one of the songs sounds like lightyear. Now that I have done 607 words, or had done before I wrote now, so if you think about it I’m going to be finished much more ahead of schedule. I need to buy margerine but I can’t see anyway I’m going to because I dont’ have any money, which fucking sucks a lot cos I can’t make a cake wouthout something like butter or a butter like substance. Oh I feel so abused. It would be considered cheating if I added a picture but after reviewing the amount of space needed to reach 1000 words and the space that would be left over, I think it is entirely possible to fit in a picture as well. And there you have it a beautiful red tractor ready to pull anything that it is capable of pulling as far and fast as it is again capable of until the poor little tanker of a tractor runs out of petrol or dies of a mechanical spiritual or stupidual fauly. I think I have enjoyed seeing the tractor so mucht that if there is enough space again at the end of this document then I will indeed add another picture of as much randomness as before. Oh Richard Scott choose to read to his teacher in an assessment one of the books where you have to pick the endings and routes of the story yourself. The poor muddy watered idiot somehow managed to die within a minute of reading the book, and so had to stop. The teacher said do you want to start again, he said no, and walked off. What a Nancy Pancy Pudding and Pie. With only 81 words to go before I must stop typing, I think I had betterr say something relevant to the size of the numbers till it is four o’clock today, in the afternoon. It is 31 numbers till four o’clock, thirty-one numbers of the value 1, and each of those 1’s is worth 60 seconds. I like the number 30, as it is half an hour and can be used in a variety of combinations with other 30 minutes to make hours and days etc. Thanks for listening.

Don’t forget peter Williamson wrote this on 19th April 2002 at 3 o clock and finished it at 3 thirty

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