A white home counties roadman tries not to grass manself up over a term-time holiday

FIFTEEN-year-old Active J, known in his detached home as Joshua Hudson, tries to keep schtum about having an extra week off school to go on holiday.

WAGWAN? Active J is low, coz man is a criminal, fam. Man ‘as committed High Treason against da school an’ is servin’ him’s punishment in da bare cruellest way possible.

In history, Miss Jackson woz teachin’ mandem crew habout dis guy called Fawkes an’ him’s gunpowdered plot, innit. Bruv woz keepin’ a secret from da hauthorities habout him’s plans to blow up da cribs of Parliament, innit.

Active J felt solid wiv Fawkes coz man too is keepin’ a secret from da hauthorities. No, fam, man is not blowin’ up da school, man is doin’ so much worse – Active J is takin’ a holiday in da term time. Well, man woz.

Next week is da half-term week, but parentdem ‘ad booked two weeks to see da pointy pyramids in Hegypt, innit. So, Active J ‘ad to ‘ave da hextra week an’ say man is flu sick an’ keep da school feds from knowin’. Da hauthorities sussed da gunpowdered plot, an’ dat is wot ‘appened to Active J, innit.

Miss Jackson set homework on da plot to be ‘anded in hafter da half term, but man would be in Hegypt, so man ‘anded it in da next day. Brains, bruh. 

But Miss bare hinterrogated Active J, askin’ why Joshua ‘ad ‘anded in him’s homework, for da first time hever, da day hafter it woz set? Active J woz bare silent, so as to not to hincriminate Joshua.

Miss went deep an’ asked if man woz hidin’ ting. Man said nah, gyal. So Miss asked man to remove him’s North Face balaclava an’ boxfresh Ray Bans, innit. Den Miss sed Joshua you is goin’ on ‘oliday wiv parentdem in da term-time, hagain, isn’t you? Fam, man woz grassed up by a dirty snake. Dat woz da only possible reason for Miss knowin’.

Now, like da guy Fawkes, Active J is guilty of High Treason hagainst da authorities, an’ man ‘as to suffer da bare rank consequences. Wasteman parentdem is goin’ to Hegypt wivout man, ‘an Active J is to be himprisoned for two weeks at dickhead Drilla’s crib. Wot is dat about? Is you jokes?

Da guy called Fawkes might ‘ave been hexecuted, an’ him’s heffigy burnt hevery Bonfire Night since, but compared to Active J’s punishment, him’s ‘ad it bare peng, fam.

A confused millennial tries to… pay attention to one screen and one screen only

By Josh Gardner, who believes he has whatever that condition is that you can get cannabis prescribed for

IN OUR age of content, I operate a three-screen minimum: TV, laptop and phone. How else can I keep up with the YouTubers, TV shows and podcasts I’m broadly indifferent to?

It’s normal for my generation to have a laptop on their knees, a phone in their hands and the television on in the background. In this climate crisis world it’s the only way we can keep our dopamine levels from dipping.

The only downside is that I can’t remember a single detail about anything I’ve ever watched. So, in the spirit of experimentation, I’m rawdogging a TV show. No WhatsApp, no Instagram Reels. If I don’t know an actor’s age I’ll have to remain ignorant.

How hard could it be? In the olden days of a decade ago, primitives like my parents regularly watched one screen at a time. It’s no wonder they’re able to hyperfocus on stuff like my not having a job.

After falling down a Reddit rabbit hole for three hours on my way to tell my Twitter friends I’d be offline for a bit, I took a deep breath and settled down to concentrate on BBC One.

Two minutes into watching Pointless, the shakes kicked in. My hand kept grasping reflexively and uncontrollably for my phone. Memes were going unseen. A Hinge match could rightly accuse me of ghosting her.

Round after punishing round crawled by, each more interminable than the last. Not even Alexander Armstrong’s quick-witted presenting could distract from the fact that I was missing out on viral tweets. Even my Facebook account was singing to me like a siren of old.

At the ten minute mark all I could think of were loopholes. Surely I could take my phone to the loo? Googling an answer was just keeping the show honest?

No, I told myself. Boomers fought World War Two so I could watch teatime TV. I could get through 45 minutes of undivided attention. All I had to do was find the Head-To-Head round entertaining and I’d be on the home straight.

Yeah, spoiler alert? I didn’t. The final round was about obscure golfers and I thought ‘F**k this.’ I’ll never know if Tom and Mary from Wiltshire won £800 because I was firing up my PornHub tabs and frankly I was too busy gooning to care.