Diary of a Teenage Murderer

also hope to ‘seize the ass’!

  I don’t know why, but all of a sudden I really fancy a beer. I don’t even like beer.

  Thursday, February 2nd

  I have decided to get myself into shape for when I ask Sasha out. I am not in particularly bad shape, generally quite trim and fit (ish). But I do have a little bit of a belly and there are definite love handles beginning to form. I went for a two-mile run (17 minutes – not too bad for a first run in quite a while), 30 press-ups (I do 20 every Tuesday in karate but have never been good at these) and 50 sit-ups.

  Tomorrow I must ask a PE teacher for an exercise to get rid of love handles.

  Another productive evening of study too. This postcard system of rewriting notes really seems to be working well for Science and I am getting through the revision guide at quite a rapid pace. I am beginning to think that at least one science next year might be a good idea, probably Biology.

  Friday, February 3rd

  This has to be the first week I have ever been on time to school every day. My form tutor, Mr Harris, also pointed out this fact to me, saying, “I have noticed a change in your attitude recently, I really hope it continues.” That’s some pretty good motivation for a lazy sod like me. With my form tutor and Dad noticing I’m making an effort, I am confident that I can keep this new-found determination to improve going.

  My dad let me go around Martin’s this evening as a reward for working so hard this week, things are going alright at home at the moment. Martin and I watched a bunch of Scrubs episodes and then a bit of Bill Hicks stand-up. I had never even heard of that guy before, but that has to be the funniest thing I have ever seen! I struggled to breathe at times and really thought I was going to pass out. Martin told me that he died a good few years ago from pancreatic cancer, no justice in this world – especially considering that all of the Spice Girls are still alive.

  I spoke to Mr Partridge (ex-army PE bloke) about my love handles. His response was quite typical of PE teachers in my school.

  “If you stopped being such a lazy little toe rag in PE lessons then you wouldn’t have bloody love handles, or that 36 DD chest you are growing, Pamela!”

  Lovely, now I have a big pair of tits.

  Saturday, February 4th

  I stayed in and worked this morning (yes, the morning! And yes, a Saturday). I figured it would be wise to keep on top of things and stay in Dad’s good books.

  In the afternoon we went over to see Nan for a cup of Satan’s piss, a hairy kiss and a warm smelly pound. I spent most of the time we were there looking at photos of my granddad. He died while I was a baby so I never really got to meet him, well not that I can remember anyway. He had a big stroke and never recovered from it. I find it weird looking at photos of people who have died. The idea that an image captures a moment of life forever is very odd. I thought about the body too, what does his body look like now? Bit grim, I know.

  My nan saw me looking at the photo and said:

  “You would have loved that man. Fair enough he was a moody old sod at times, but he was a lovely man at heart. He loved you, you know; only held you a few times, he did. But thought the world of you, he did. I miss him.”

  I really do wish I had known him, seems very unfair that people have to die. I should see more of my nan.

  I managed 30 press-ups before I went to bed tonight. I have been touching my man breasts all day, that fucking PE teacher has given me a complex.

  I listened to The Smiths on my iPod when I was lying in bed. The whole ‘death of my grandfather’ had really gotten to me this afternoon and I wanted to think about it a little more. I listened to ‘Cemetery Gates’ in particular about 10 times in a row. It really does sum up the futility of life and death so well. And in two minutes 42 seconds too, utter genius.

  “So we go inside and we gravely read the stones, all those people all those lives where are they now? With loves and hate and passions just like mine, they were born and then lived and then they died. Seems so unfair, I want to cry.”

  Me too Mozza, me too.

  Sunday, February 5th

  I worked all day today, it helped that it was raining and cold outside, a really shitty day. I am hammering through the French guide, I must have sort of listened in class as there really is a lot I remember, and that’s encouraging. I have almost finished doing my Science postcards and History mind maps. I might even tackle a bit of English Literature tomorrow.

  Monday, February 6th

  I ate my lunch with Sasha today and have decided that I am definitely going to ask her out this week, it is just a case of when. We break up on Friday, so that’s the logical choice. But we do have Music together on Wednesday, so that’s another option. I will sleep on it and decide tomorrow.

  It is hard to eat when you are sitting with a girl that you really fancy. Luckily I bring own sandwiches from home, which are a lot easier to eat in front of ‘fanciable’ girls than a plate of nasty food from the diner. Unluckily, however, my mum decided in her infinite wisdom that today my sandwiches would consist of crab paste. Now don’t get me wrong, I am of course in no position to argue, given that I do not actually make the sandwiches myself! But crab paste? It just looks and smells all kind of wrong. How does something like that even get invented? ‘I know what this world needs, a bunch of crabs smashed up and boiled into a stinking pink paste that smells like the urinals in Worthing’s town square.’

  Needless to say I didn’t eat the sandwiches, they stayed safely out of ‘nose shot’ in my lunch box. I opted instead to just have my Dairylea Dunkers and an apple. The Dunkers in particular were a great call. Unbeknownst to me, I managed to leave a little of the cheese matter from the dunkers on my top lip. Sasha pointed, laughed and then reached over and wiped it off with her thumb. She then looked me straight in the eyes (kind of menacingly really) and put her thumb in her mouth.

  It’s definitely on!

  35 press-ups and already there’s a bit more tension in my flaccid man bangers.

  Tuesday, February 7th

  I have decided that I am actually going to ask Sasha out tomorrow instead, I don’t think I can wait until Friday. I mean, what if someone else asked her out before me? How devastating would that be? It actually gives me butterflies thinking about doing it, it has been about six months since I last asked a girl out. The recipient on that occasion was a girl called Sammy Grange. Sammy Grange is just stunning, long blonde hair, thin, tall with sparkling blue eyes. She is one of those girls who is destined to either be a supermodel or married to a footballer/billionaire. She said no. Well, she is a bit of a slag I suppose.

  It could well be a no again that I get tomorrow and I need to prepare myself for that, but the rewards of a yes are more than worth it!

  So, just how do I describe Sasha to you?

  Well, as I have said before, jet black curly hair and an amazing ass is a great place to start. I think her mum is Spanish or Greek or something, as she has that sort of unblemished olive skin that pure English girls unfortunately just do not have – certainly not the ones from Worthing anyway, that’s for sure. Greeny brown eyes, full red lips that need no lipstick, and chunky yet slim legs that are to die for. She has this way of biting her bottom lip when she concentrates and has a slight frown that makes all sorts of dirty thoughts flow around my head.

  She is just so down to earth though, and an amazingly good looking girl without all the baggage that they usually bring with them. Not overly into her looks, not a bitch, not a slag, just perfect. She does not seem to get a lot of male attention really, I guess that’s because most blokes go for the easy win. Sasha is very smart and perhaps it’s that intellectual side of her that maybe intimidates most fellas. Not me though!

  So, tomorrow is the big day. I have decided that during the last five minutes of Music (incidentally, just before lunch, so I can run off and burst into flames somewhere if it’s a no) I will make my move.

  I could only manage 31 press-ups tonight and I now have a twitching nipple, surely that
’s not good?

  Wednesday, February 8th

  This is officially my favourite day ever. Future generations of poets and songwriters will identify today as that when the truest of true loves began. I’m officially in love. I have had a few girlfriends in the past but none of this calibre, nowhere near in fact.

  My love life to date:

  • Naomi Davis – she was my first ever girlfriend. We got together during a disco night in our local church hall. My friend at primary school, David, asked Naomi if she would go out with me and I asked her friend Michelle if she would go out with David. Naomi said yes via Michelle (score) and Michelle said no via Naomi. Our relationship lasted about five slow songs at the end of the disco and one clumsy first kiss to ‘Many Rivers to Cross’ by UB40 (which was an old song even in those days!). David spent that time crying in a chair after being rejected, and we ceased being friends from that point on. I see him around occasionally (he now goes to a different secondary school) and I’m sure he still hates me! Naomi is in my Geography and English classes, really nice girl – great choice for a first kiss.

  • Suzy Frownes – another primary school conquest. We got it together after she ticked the yes box on my ‘proposal note’. Our relationship lasted all of three days. No kissing this time, only holding hands was on the menu. She dumped me for a kid