Happy Neil's end of term

This week was the end of my university term, which I hate, because it means I have to go home and speak to my idiot parents. My parents are even more stupid than the spineless amoebas who guard the entrance to the Cave of Mucus in 'Caveworld 2' for the Playstation. They like television programmes like 'The news', and 'Panorama' which I hate because I don't care about what happens to 'other people'. We live in a world of pain.

I hate the car journey home at the end of term. My dad always plays 'Hotel California' by the Eagles, because it is the only tape he has. He plays it on repeat and it makes me want to kill him. I hate music and everyone who listens to it. The only thing I like listening to is the sound of people dying. I have a tape I compiled from the internet called '200 sounds of death'. My dad won't let me play it while he is driving and I hate him.

I hate all the parties that people go to at the end of term. The only party I have ever been to was when I was five - it was the birthday party of a stupid 'popular' boy called Andrew, and I set fire to his face with his birthday candles. He suffered severe burns and was in hospital for 2 weeks, but I didn't care because I wanted him to die.

I wish I didn't have to go home for the holidays. I want to stay in Cambridge and solve differential equations, but the people who rule my college think we should have 'time off' to 'relax'. I hate trying to 'relax' - it gives me a headache. The only thing I found slightly relaxing was when I reprogrammed my X-Box paralympics game so that instead of competing in races the disabled people were destroyed by Falgon, the Dragon Lord of Doom.

If you are going to a 'party' during the holiday, I hope that all of your friends die and you cry constantly for two weeks.

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