An introduction to the angsts of an eighteen year old

A young man with long blonde hair, who happens to be this very blogger (coincidence? maybe) walks along a quiet street smoking a cigarette, listening to music, his name is Owen. Someone else appears, coming from a side lane. For convenience sakes, let's call him Kevin. Kevin starts speeding up, gaining on Owen. "Hey mate, you got a light?" shouts Kevin in a horrible, whiney Glaswegian accent. Nothing happens, Owen keeps on walking and Kevin speeds up. Again, the question is shouted and there is no answer. Eventually, the blonde haired kid stops because the song he's listening to has stopped and he figures he should probably give Kevin a lighter. The two meet, the same question is asked once again and finally Owen answers, "Yeah, I do" and he pulls out a yellow lighter. Kevin lights his cigarette, and asks another question: "Thanks a lot mate, you don't happen to have any weed on you do you, mate?". At this point, Owen was quite drunk and beginning to get annoyed by the Glaswegian shits questions. "No man, sorry, I don't" Owen replies, and starts walking again, putting his headphones back over his ears. A minute later, Owen feels a hand on his shoulder, and another question spurts out of Kevin's ugly mouth; "Is that an ipod you're listening to, mate?". The slightly drunk Owen was getting increasingly annoyed at the overuse of the word "mate" and a little bit worried that Kevin might be trying to mug him. "No it's not, now fuck off and leave me alone" was the smartest thing that Owen could think of, so that's what he said. The young man starts walking off at a brisk pace, music off at this point. He hears footsteps behind him, turns round and sees that Kevin is now brandishing a knife, it looks pretty shiny too. Luckily, our hero was prepared for someone along those lines, so he kicks out with his left foot, feels impact and then runs as fast as his ridiculously small shoes will take him. "Come back, you little emo fuck!" shouts Kevin. He looks behind him just before he turns the corner and sees Kevin knelt down on the floor grabbing his balls. Bingo.

Owen's only regret is that he didn't get his yellow lighter back.

Sorry about writing this in the third person, I thought it would be fun. I'm not the pretentious arse-hole I might be coming off as at this point, I promise. Anyway, I should probably explain why I used that story to start my first blog before you lose any interest you may or may not have had. Basically, I'll be writing a lot about the place I live in and the people I meet, and this story (which is entirely true, by the way) is a perfect example of both. Of course, i'm not going to exclusively write about those things, I am an extremely headstrong young man, and have opinions on a lot of things.
However, certainly for my first few blogs i'll be writing about what I mentioned above. I live in Aberdeen, Scotland. Aberdeen, in case you haven't heard of it, is one of the most genuinely depressing places to live in the entire world. Nicknamed the "Granite City" (because all the buildings are made out of granite, in case you thought it might be anything exciting) it would almost be as dull as the nickname suggests if it wasn't for the people. The people? Well, I'll give you an example. When I used to work in a charity shop I was once punched in the face by a disgruntled older gentleman for trying to "rip him off" because I didn't give him the correct change. Everything I write is completely true.


Welcome to Aberdeen, and more importantly, welcome to my blog.