Author: | Guy Armstrong | ISBN: | 9780473233624 |
Publisher: | Sleep-in Publishing | Publication: | December 7, 2012 |
Imprint: | Language: | English |
Author: | Guy Armstrong |
ISBN: | 9780473233624 |
Publisher: | Sleep-in Publishing |
Publication: | December 7, 2012 |
Imprint: | |
Language: | English |
My name's Guy and hi. This is the second edition of my first book, written after my third beer, with about eleven thousand words, arranged to maximise the silliness levels. It's about my life - or a few weekends of it, anyway - as a student. Parties, politics and police all have a role, albeit lightheartedly.
Here's a sample:
I drove round and round the Basin Reserve, I don’t know how many times, in my switched reluctance bicycle at about five miles an hour. I’d kidnapped some adults a year ago in my car, so I wasn’t allowed to drive any more. In full deviant loopholing through the law, I sawed my car in half, now I have two motorbikes. To shield myself from the windy Wellington, I left my motorbike on the side of the road, and bought a car, which I promptly remembered I wasn’t allowed to drive. I cut it in half with my mate’s angle grinder. It was a pretty rough cut, and I sliced some part of myself open almost every time I got in to ride.
“It’s a vicious cycle” I explained to the police, who didn’t seem to care. “No more driving round and round” they said, over and over...
My name's Guy and hi. This is the second edition of my first book, written after my third beer, with about eleven thousand words, arranged to maximise the silliness levels. It's about my life - or a few weekends of it, anyway - as a student. Parties, politics and police all have a role, albeit lightheartedly.
Here's a sample:
I drove round and round the Basin Reserve, I don’t know how many times, in my switched reluctance bicycle at about five miles an hour. I’d kidnapped some adults a year ago in my car, so I wasn’t allowed to drive any more. In full deviant loopholing through the law, I sawed my car in half, now I have two motorbikes. To shield myself from the windy Wellington, I left my motorbike on the side of the road, and bought a car, which I promptly remembered I wasn’t allowed to drive. I cut it in half with my mate’s angle grinder. It was a pretty rough cut, and I sliced some part of myself open almost every time I got in to ride.
“It’s a vicious cycle” I explained to the police, who didn’t seem to care. “No more driving round and round” they said, over and over...