Bram\’s Bloody Booming Blog
A little bit of everything


Let me first explain the school system here in Belgium, before I continue with Lindsay.

When you’re 1.5, 2 years old, you go to kindergarten, you stay there for 3 years and after those 3 years, they decide if you’re “mature” enough to advance to primary school. Here is where you learn to write and read (and also where I got my first love letter, the one from Jolien). Normally you’re 6 when you get in primary school, and you’re 12 when you leave. That’s 6 years you gotta stick up with it. Then you get to, what you could call, college (according to Another 6 years of misery, where you have to choose a direction allready. Most schools provide Latin and Modern Sciences (or whatever to translate it), which after 2 years splits up, and 2 years later splits up again. But they’re changing the whole bloody system, so I can’t keep up with it, doesn’t matter, because, just like me, when you leave college, you can go to University.
So, when you’re in primary, you’re still a kid, when you get to college, you start to feel important, but actually that’s just what they call puberty, and you’re still a kid, and then when you get to Uni, people suddenly suspect you’re being all grown up.
Anyhow, you’re probably not here to read about BS.
Belgian schools that is, not the other abbreviation…


When I got in my 6th year of primary school, the earlier mentioned boys only and girls only schools merged together to one big school complex. Suddenly all these boys got stuck with all these girls. A whole new world opened for the most of us.
Some couldn’t really handle it and became/acted very shy, others were having the time of their lives, pulling the straps of the girls’ first bra’s.
Anyhow, every school, primary or not, must have it’s own skanks, and so did we offcourse. Lindsay. And offcourse I was stupid enough to also “fall in love” with this girl. Man, was I stupid.
Anyhow, she was the first girl I wrote a letter to let her know I was in love with her.
I specifically asked her, in that same letter, not to tell her friends I wrote her that letter.
One day later, one of her friends came up to me and said to me I would stop harassing her or there would be consequences.
Ouch. That hurt.
That was actually the only time a friend took care of “the job” (with “the job” I offcourse mean “telling the poor sod that he’s supposed to bugger off because she’s/i’m not interested”), so I guess it wasn’t that bad at all. If only I knew that back then.

I’m still not really counting Lindsay as a part of my love life. Partly because nobody actually ever knew, partly because I still didn’t hit puberty.

Another chapter was finished. Actually, looking at it now, Lindsay wasn’t a real chapter, more something like a paragraph or so. After primary school, my life started going extremely downhill. For 4 years of my life, I felt utterly miserable and sometimes wished I could end it all. Welcome to puberty folks!


One Response to “Lindsay”

  1. i dont no wot to say or do. i dont no wether to laf or not

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