I was sorting through old toys and the like today (MASK toys were fucking great) and found my old Funfax. A Funfax, if you don't remember, is a ring binder in which you stick books you buy about things like Practical Jokes and Ghosts and the collapse of the Berlin wall.
There is a ''Notes'' section in it at the front, which is probably intended for normal children to write things about what they've learned from reading Funfax books in. This, however, is what I wrote in it at the age of 8.
Page 1: ''I think Macauly Culkin is a good actor next I think arnold schazenegger is only picked because hes musclly americans have loads of famous and Id like to go to californier james bond is good I think people should have instructors for karate SCUM''
I haven't got any idea what the last bit means. The karate thing, though- apparently at the age of 8 I was so uncomfortable with being a pussy that I secretly yearned to be trained to miraculously not be one, probably by a sort of hybrid of Father Christmas and Shredder from TMNTurtles. Sort of like now, at the age of 23, I'm so uncomfortable with being a pussy that I secretly yearn to get given the magical power of turning water into rohypnol.
Page 2: ''I think street fighter II is the best super nes game chinese have good video games lenny henry is good I mean the best comedian in the world I think when he went on blue peter he helped John make a pizza at the end he smashed it and said that it looks a bit like (illegible) now and then said the truth is John's the worst chef in the world I'v seen better cooks fired from motorway hotels!''
You're almost right about Street Figher 2 (Turbo, you little turd) but you're confusing the Chinese with the Japanese, you fucking racist bedwetter. Lenny Henry, the best comedian in the world? Perhaps if living your life and career out as some sort of excercise in dramatic irony counts as a comedic act. I want to go back in time and slap my 8 year old self around the skull with a ''Curb Your Enthusiasm'' DVD boxset.
I have to admit I'd forgotten about that hilarious moment on Blue Peter when Lenny slewed Leslie for making a shit pizza. Though in retrospect, wouldn't it have been better for Lenny to have called John out on his predeliction for sexual assault?
Page 3: ''I would like to live in a circus with my family and have a dog called Knip a tiger called Felix and a cute monkey called patch we would be triksters and make loads of money''
Frankly, I'm flabbergasted. How did I forget my real calling in life was always to be an animal torturing carnie cunt with a fucking dog called ''Knip'' and a pet fucking tiger? Presumably one of my family's ''triks'' would involve either hedge fund speculation or burglary, seeing as that's about the only way a circus would make money in this day and age, when iPods are only ten quid and there's trannies dancing for Piers Morgan on the telly.
Page 4: ''Macauly culkin is a very good actor in home alone hes kevin he was good (NOT!) (illegible) and circuses are my hobies I am a writer at school I write like mad and my favourite actors macauly culkin my favouioret aniamal is a dog then shark then tiger then monkeys and my favouiret comedians Lenny Henry''
Oh my christ. Did I fancy Macauly Culkin or something? Let's face it there isn't any other explanation. I was sucked in by his big blue eyes and petulant parent-dispatching dick-sucking lips, wasn't I? I'm probably repressing memories right now of holding a copy of ''The Good Son'' against my naked half-budded genitals. Is this why I sometimes hold my face in my hands sometimes when I'm orgasming and scream as if I've been left at home at Christmas?
This is quite therapeutic, really. In other ways too- sure, I might think of myself as something of a loser nowadays, given that my main activities are a) masturbating and b) drawing attention to my genitals on the internet, but at least my main hobby is no longer 'circuses'. I think if it still was by this age, it would probably involve me furtively applying grease paint to my nipples and walking along tightropes into lonely spinsters' bedroom windows at midnight.
Phew.
Page 5: ''I would like to go to taekwondo or karate or judo wheres wally ultimate fun book is one of my favourite books house os hell is an adventure book it is really scary Anubis is the god of death he took your hearts out with a feather a heart heavy with sin was eaten by a crocodile''
This is like reading the last section of ''Ulysses'', isn't it? Except instead of the exquisitely artistically rendered thoughts of a cuckold wife resurrecting mentally her long cooling ardour for her husband as representative of the boundless fertility of life and love, it's a tedious litany of an 8 year old sociopathic twit's obsessions.
Yes Anubis is an Egyptian god of death. I'm 8 years old, though, shouldn't I be writing about football or something? This is the sort of thing Kevin Spacey wrote in ''Seven''- ''Anubis is the god of death, he is coming for that girl who laughed at me during kiss chase and made me wet myself (again).''
Page 6: ''things to remember > crocodiles monkeys bats tigers and zebras raleigh home alone two martial arts book radio station tape keyboard with (illegible) book i had a radio station martial art book streetfighter wrestling martial art book oh get lost I cross raleighed biked excellent dude homework bogus hang lose''
This is patently a torrent of banal shit. I'm beginning to see the wayward lines along which my psyche developed now- obsessed with animals, unarmed combat, broadcast journalism and ''Home Alone 2''? I never knew me and Fred West shared so much in common.
Also, I wrote ''Martial Arts Book'' three times to remind myself of what? That it existed? That I wanted it? The irony being that I probably thought that I'd miraculously become my Primay School's head bully by reading a BOOK about kung fu. Yes- to this day, whenever I find myself in a brawl at the local pub, I'm able to dazzle and disperse my enemies with a lethal quotation concerning the health risks of kicking too high.
Page 7: ''I love mum dad my sister my cat my family and god. iguarnodon i loved you with all your shiny scales your massive jaw impressive claws get lost get looose you stink I (illegible) you''
Okay, now I'm actually scared. I might book myself into Broadmoor tonight. The loving the family stuff is alright (but why write it down?). Even the loving God stuff- tolerable (hey I was young, I probably wanted to toss off the Easter Bunny too at that age). But being clearly sexually aroused by reptiles?
Did I want to pop my testicles into its ''massive jaw''? ''Impressive'' claws?! That's what I'd describe them as if I was in a snake house with paranoid schizophrenia trying to buy an alligator a glass of white wine! Then, most disturbingly of all, I switch from praising the iguanadon to railing against it psychopathically. This is romantic love, isn't it? You know, the feeling when you want to fuck someone to death but would happily substitute ''fucking'' for ''strangling'' if they turned you down?
No man or boy should feel that for an IGUANADON.
There's more, too, but I need to save it all for a practicing Freudian. As far as I can tell I was a creepy little arsehole at the age of 8 and I'm a creepy arsehole now and there must be a connection betwix't them two points.
Tomorrow I might post up extracts from a hilarious 25 page screenplay I wrote when I was about 15 which features a prostitute with a heart of gold getting hit in the spine with a pistol by her husband.
I'm worried that I'm going to find writings from every age I've ever been and discover that I have indeed been as crazy as a shithouse rat my entire life.
NEVER GO BACK.
