Leaving cert pissed up vomity teenagers

Posted in Old blogger by Twenty Major on August 18th, 2005

I’m writing this the night that the leaving certificate results came out. For those of you outside of Ireland the leaving certificate are the exams you do before, funnily enough, you leave school.

Then late in the summer comes the fateful day when you discover your results. You have to go back to the school whose gates and front door you pissed on on the way out after the last exam to get a piece of paper to show you your grades. Then you count up the As, Bs, Cs and Ds (and Es and Fs and NGs for people from Tallaght and Coolock) and calculate how many points you get so you can see which university course you can do.

In my day it was something like 5 for an A, 4 for a B, 3 for a C and so on. Now your grades are like A+, A or A- and each one is worth around a million points like the multi-ball on Addams Family pinball. So even the spazzer kids these days get more points than I got. Anyway, they all jump around and say “Wotcha get in Maths? Wotcha get in Biz Org? Wotcha get in Irish?” for a while, then the fun begins.

Sometime in the early evening the 50 or 60,000 teenagers that sat the exams go out on the town. They want to celebrate, commiserate and let down their hair. And why not? The problem is they get very, very drunk indeed. How drunk? Imagine George Best drinking a pint of Oliver Reed’s blood then washing down with a gallon of methalated spirits. Drunker than a Muslim after a pint of Guinness. Drunker than Eamonn Dunphy kissing a bouncer on Leeson Street.

And when you have all these teenagers that drunk things happen. Some of them fight each other, some of them will fornicate in public, many, many of them will vomit all over the streets, quite a few will end up in hospital having their stomachs pumped and undoubtedly there’ll be one or two twats who will walk out in front of a bus or fall in a river and drown. It’s natural selection, I know.

Then later today will start the bleating, the recriminations and the giving out. They’ll be ringing up that beardy cunt Joe Duffy and saying “Oh Joe, I never seen anytin’ loike it. It wasn’t loike dat in my day. We’d a been battered be our parents if we’d a carried on in dat manner’ and then some fucking do-gooder cuntbag from some alcohol awareness group will call on the Minister for something or other to do something about ‘binge drinking’ and one of these days one of the politicians might actually do something about it and that might affect my ability to drink what I want whenever I want and if that happens I will personally call on every single leaving cert student and kick them in the balls, or in their well used vaginas, for fucking it up the witless little cretins.

I hope they have a good night though and I hope Dubloon, long lost blogger but long time reader, is suitably appalled when he discovers his car windows smashed in and the seats covered in puke and Kunle’s jism.