It's A level results day. Another chance for the great British unwashed to pretend to be American. "I'm like sooo like over the moon, I got like seventeen A stars and I didn't like even bother to do any revision," shrieked Levine La Flurve, 18, of Stoke Newington. "Now I either want to be a doctor or a pole dancer," she squealed. "But first my friends, who all also got seventeen A stars each too, and I are going to hire a stretch limo and drive round town in it with the windows down, playing loud music, drinking blue WKD until it comes out of our ears and vomiting on passers-by. Passing A levels is like soooo hard. Look there's my other friends Tamara, Mmmm Danone and Betws-y-Coed. What did you guys get? Seventeen A stars too? Wow that's the same as me, Tarquin, Ptarmigan and Champs Elysees! Wooohoooo. Daddy's going to buy me another horse when he hears about this...." Fast forward two years "A quarterpounder meal with Fanta, would you like to go large with that? Dean, Dean, there's puke and diet coke all over the floor in here, wipe it will ya, there's a love me trainers are sticking to the floor." The thick, work-shy, Hooray Henrietta-type jolly hockey stick, belly button pierced, air head bimbo bastards.
You couldn't make it up could you. I spent much of the weekend dozing on the sofa watching telly. Glastonbury was on, although sad to say there was no Snoop Dog, Bone Jovi or any other canine related artists. The big news seemed to be the lack of female headliners and now we know why as one scored a spectacular own goal. She missed her slot cos she was doing her hair. It takes ages she said. Why NOT start doing your hair well before your show time. Aaagh no where's my handbag I've left it in the car, I've got to back to fetch it.