Last year in Bristol.

"I am a gangly, bucktoothed eighteen year old student with sweaty palms and a self esteem problem. I also possess a penchant for getting disgustingly drunk to let go of my painfully repressed inhibitions, which has got me into a number of excruciating but hilariously embarrassing social situations in the past five years. Having always harboured grand aspirations of becoming a writer, I decided to embark on the whimsical and fruitless pursuit of this career, by first moving away from the town in which I have successfully managed to drunkenly humiliate myself in front of every living inhabitant, and attempting to grab life by the slippery, clammy and ultimately unpleasant extremities. I intend to charter my adventures as I simultaneously enrage and disappoint my friends and family, ditching university prospects for the year to instead pursue the life of my skateboarding, stoner flatmates in the big bad city. Leaving the hen-night glamour, the glowing promise of the arcade slot machines and the stench of the old in the washed up seaside resort of Whitley Bay, and moving to Bristol, where I have admittedly only been once in the course of my short and thus far pointless existence."