Wouldn’t it be annoying if you met someone who didn’t use vowels?

H mt, fncy gng fr pnt?  cr  shs ft.  mrnng hw r y tdy

(Hi mate, fancy going for a pint? Cor, she’s fit. Morning, how are you today?)

It wouldn’t work, so why do seemingly intelligent  people feel the need to send messages in this way?

Listen, I know I’m a bit of a pedant.

I correct people when they say less when they mean fewer, and I get angry about apostrophes and people writing ‘your shit’ when they mean “you’re shit”  unless they have  a  perverse interest in my body functions (in fact, I’d get angry at that too).

But I get really annoyed if I get a text or  an email written in a way it takes me six attempts to  read before I get what it’s on about.

I can understand why kids do it, because the other kids they send it to can understand (plus none of them can spell)

But why do adults do it?

I ask them, they say “it’s quicker”, I say “it’s quicker for you to type,  but it takes me six times to  read  it”

Plus, how busy is your  life if you can’t spend an additional seven seconds typing a message properly? Answer: it’s not.

Just  type as if you were writing to your gran, properly and in full and marvel at the fact you can still spell.

I left school 11 years ago, and have been involved planning a get together for the class of  1993, which seems a ridiculous length of time ago.

It got me thinking about how funny school is and how much fun you have.

HOWEVER, the first day of senior school is undoubtedly one of the most terrifying days of your life..

It all began in 1993, we were tiny people, sent in to a world of bigger, older, kids, whose sole aim seemed to destroy.

If you’ve ever seen those documentaries about those baby turtles scrambling desperately for the safety of the sea after hatching, being in the first year of school is a bit like that.

There’s a big nasty predator just waiting to pick you off on every corner.

First, you have to change class for lessons, which is a total mind-melter.

Second, there’s different lessons on different days, so you have to take different things on different days, which means you need a big bag.

In fact, your parents buy you a massive bag, probably weighing more than you, and that is ideal  for getting stuck in doors and being tipped over.

You have a timetable, it takes six weeks to learn.

That means you need  two PE kits, football boots, trainers, all your books, pens etc on you the entire time.

It’s ridiculous, lugging a bag weighing the same as the moon around with you, mainly because the book you need was inevitably at the bottom meaning a massive unpack in every single lesson.

And there is the bastard called homework.

I remember on the first day, the  school had a nice idea of stationing older kids around the sc hool so we  could ask where the rooms were.

Nice idea, but clearly it was set for disaster as they sent us on a merry dance around the school.

I remember one girl arriving almost in tears as a lesson was ending having been sent to the other end of the school TWICE.

 As a first year, you are despised, the lowest of the low, a pesky turd that won’t go away.

You get hit, you get pushed, you get mocked, you have hair disasters.

And teachers like to stamp their mark.

I remember standing in the playground in my pants (white y fronts, cool) when the terrifying PE teacher had enough of our yapping and sent us out.

Then there are the fights.

At junior school fights involved a bit of wrestling.

At senior school, it was pretty much two full grown men breaking each other’s noses, which was utterly terrifying.

And then there’s girls.

That’s right, the ones you used to cringe at having to do country dancing with suddenly become much more appealing.

It doesn’t matter though, because at that age you’re either spotty and gross or still resemble an eight-year-old, and by the time you get slightly less revolting they’re going out with a bloke who’s got a car and a tattoo.

(Even at that age, we knew those blokes were seedy and weird, sadly, the girls didn’t).

So, it’s tough being a baby turtle, but the survivors went on to grow big and strong, at least we thought we did.

More coming on this soon folks.