Rip It Up

I am writing this post from yesterday, as confusing as that might be.

I really found some of my old writing and began to read it through only to find myself in stitches about some of the notions held by my younger self.

Sir Bart is the tale of a young boy in mock medieval England who, although destined to follow in his father's footsteps and become a knight, holds the ambition to be a singer.

Here are a few of my favourite extracts:

'He did something so naughty I can hardly tell you. Well, in his raged mixed with jealousy and sadness, he couldn't think straight so he drew back his hand very slowly at first then, picking up speed, he slapped the baby had on its forehead.'

'Bart and Emily's argument was just to its highest ability when (as quoted from Gone With the Wind) 'the wind swept through Georgia' and out came the loudesr, smelliest fart you ever heard in your life (Talk about toilet humour)'

'Bart was from then on called the sinner of that family which was said to come up every 700 years' (please note that Bart is supposedly 2 at this stage)

'To Henry, Lillian, Lawrence, Beth and Bart, I am sad to say that your brother/uncle/father has died'

'Bart's mother quickly carried him upstairs, not noticing that she was carrying him upside down. She continued not to notice until Bart was sick while being carried up the fourth flight of stairs in the tower. Luckily it was just outside their bedroom door, which was quite near the top of the towere so it wouldn't bother anyone'

Although quite embarssing as a piece of literature this story has a certain charm about it for me as it was the first one I ever tried to write. Normally I would throw away or rip up these sort of things to make room for the new but I think this is going to join my draw of hoarded items from my past just in case I want a giggle at my past self's expense.