A white home counties roadman gets bare dumped at da cinema

FIFTEEN-year-old Active J, known in his detached home as Joshua Hudson, learns to live without his gyal due to his cinema antics.

ACTIVE J ‘as da January blues. Coz man ‘as been bare dumped. Lady G is no longer peng gyaldem. Her went off da scale at Active J in da cinema, for no reason at all, innit.

Mandem crew woz watchin’ a film habout a old-school vampire, which woz rank an’ not for Active J, fam. So man put him’s hairpods in an’ watched youtoob videos, innit. 

Drilla sed Active J woz scared so man pounded on Drilla an’ Lady G went mental, fam. I mean her woz da most ultra-vexed hever, an’ had a bare deep turbo-rant at Active J, sayin’ man halways ruins tings an’ man is selfish, an’ sum other stuff. 

Den Drilla sed Lady G ‘ad left da cinema sayin’ man woz a 24/7 knobhead an’ she ‘ad finished with Active J. But man did not know coz man woz watchin’ da videos again, innit.

Drilla sed man woz a dickhead for upsettin’ Lady G coz it woz a film her wanted to see, innit. So, man texted Lady G to wait coz her ‘ad man’s vape. An’ her texted man sayin’ Active J needs to take a look at manself in da mirror, not just to peng-check man’s hoptics, but to see who da real Active J is, or should her say ‘Joshua Hudson’. Wot? Callin’ a bruv by him’s brand muggle name; dat hurt, fam.

Den in school on Monday Lady G ‘ad moved seats in class away from Active J. Hafter class Miss Jackson hasked wot woz wrong wiv Joshua, coz her ‘ad noticed man woz hactually concentratin’ on him’s work. 

Her sed to send Lady G a card wiv a nice message, so man sent a Pigmoon card ting of boss photos of Active J in peng drip, sayin’ ‘look wot u is missin’, innit’. Her posted it back through man’s door all ripped up. Dat woz low! Active J woz low, fam.

Mandem crew didn’t want to hang on da hastroturf, so man ‘ad to hang at him’s detached crib an’ practise Active J gangsta raps habout street issues in da entertainment room on da karaoke machine. Parentdem sed Joshua should get back wiv Lady G an’ mandem crew himmediately, an’ thought them’s cud make man ‘appy hagain by buyin’ man new Jordan’s. It did not work, fam, but man sed a new iPhone might, an’ it did, a little bit.

Dem’s sed to hapologise to Lady G an’ give her a nice present, so her will know man is not a 24/7 knobhead. So Active J Ubered a can of Monster in a gift bag, sayin’ ’Sorry an’ dat, innit’, to her’s house. Gyal guzzled da lot an’ put a lipstick kiss on da top an’ Ubered it back. Man is back, fam!

Man hadmitted Active J woz freaked out by da vampires an’ ting, but not as much as dickhead Drilla sed. Lady G hasked wud man be safe wiv witches? Man is solid wiv witches, so we busted Wicked together. It was peng nang, fam! Man finks Active J loves da cinema.

A confused millennial tries to… raw-dog a six-hour Megabus journey

By Josh Gardner, who one day hopes to have his own memecoin

SOCIAL media has blighted society with its stupid trends. Just take planking, flossing, and the ice bucket challenge, all of which I participated in. 

But while those trends were the idiotic pursuits of NPCs, I knew I’d discovered something worthwhile after stumbling across raw-dogging videos at 1am while desperately trying to sleep.

To the uninitiated, raw-dogging might appear strange. A young, healthy man spending an entire journey staring straight at the seat back ahead, eschewing all entertainment? Is this what Steve Jobs died for?

But look closer at these videos of adult men sitting stock still on long-haul flights and you’ll realise that you’re watching alpha chads of endurance in electrifying action.

Forget the SAS or the Navy Seals, raw-doggers are today’s real men. I marvelled at how they stared blankly ahead, powerfully resisting wifi or earbuds. How did they find such unearthly resolve? I knew I had to find out.

Sadly, due to my financial restrictions, even a flight from Bristol to Dublin was beyond my means. So instead I settled for the hardcore alternative: the six-hour Megabus journey from Plymouth to London Victoria coach station.

To avoid an embarrassing L, I built up my endurance by sitting and staring straight ahead, letting nothing distract me from the interior of my own mind, while working from home. I was ready. I paid my £14 and joined the queue.

As I took my seat the nerves kicked in. Was I actually about to embark on an admirable test of resilience, or was I simply ‘on the bus without a Walkman or a Daily Mirror’ as my dad said?

Bravely, I buried those rational thoughts. And fate was on my side. There was no screen on the back of the seat in front of me to tempt me to fail, and the fields around the M4 were blessedly misty. There wasn’t a single distraction.

As the minutes turned into hours, I felt my brain begin to heal. Without a constant scroll, my thoughts were clear and my internal monologue started to articulate nuanced ideas. Is this what being human is supposed to be?

Profound notions began to creep in. By the fifth hour I was free of the shackles of modernity. I had a richer and more complete understanding of the world which, as we disembarked, I knew I had a duty to share.

But no sooner had I opened Instagram to pass on my revelation, I came across a fascinating piece about the aging of Matt Damon and I was lost. Six hours later, I looked up, alone, and realised all my effort was wasted. I hadn’t even recorded it.

So yes, raw-dogging is the path to enlightenment and Erling Haaland is the new Buddha. But f**k that. I’m keeping my earbuds in until March.