Like most people, I hate exams. I know you gotta do them but when you are sat there, all irate after 4 hours sleep and being careful not to snag your leaky pen in your droopy eyes, and you got to sit far too close to Pen Clicker Pete and Orgasm Oli it's all too much. I can't concentrate at the best of the times but when these two launched into some synchronized form of annoyingness I swear I was ready to blow. What was so damn good about a 2 hour open book exam that Orgasm Oli had to continually demonstrate his ecstatic pleasure to the whole room? Was Pen Clicker Pete doing something he shouldn't have been with that perpetually clicky bloody pen? With every turn of the page (and considering its an open book exam, that's a lot of pages) we were all were privy to a gasp and a ooooh and a urgh and many many more throatal noises that would have made even the gobbiest sex person jealous. It's very off putting you know. I couldn't even look at the orgasmer because how can you look at someone you don;t know when you know what they sound like when they are coming? I didn't want to see the face of this person because I know what he sounds like when he's got his cock in his hands. I can only imagine his face was screwed up in some 'butt plug up arse' fashion but that is only guesswork. And you know what's worse than these two skin-crawlingly annoying bastards? The guy who was sat in front of me with the skinnier than my pinky ankles on full display for my crinkled slitty eyes. I have never seen such pitifully skinny ankles in my life and the amount of hair that was present would have been enough to keep warm all the hairless cats in the world. It was vile. And he had on spit-through sport socks that I imagine were once white, yeah when he put them on 17 days ago. This is why I hate exams. Because the people in them cough and sneeze in flying flem fits, wear dirty underwear, smell up the whole room with last nights tea breath and come on the desks. For the sake of my deteriorating mental health exams should conducted in solitary confinement where I don't have to look at or listen to these pricks who will ultimately perform better than me because I took time out to assess my personal hygiene and social manners.
And off I go to slit my pretty wrists because the image of these fuckers is haunting me and will not cease.