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There is that old cliché about school days being the best of your life. I think something must have gone seriously wrong in your life if that is the case. I have lots of memories from school but very few of them are good. In fact the only good memories I have from school are walking out of the door after my last GCSE exam and setting fire to my school uniform and returning some weeks later to collect my exam results and telling my headmaster to go fist himself.

What I hated most about school, apart from having illiterate teachers and a caretaker who was a paedophile, was simply being forced to do things I had no interest in doing. And not getting paid for it. Frankly, to suggest that those days were the best of my life would be as accurate as saying Gordon Brown was the best Prime Minister this country has ever had. The truth is my life didn’t really begin until I left. Only then was I able to make my own decisions and mess my life up in my own unique way.

The last few years at school were spent being a teenager and these have to be by far the worst years of anyone’s life. They were certainly the most stressful of mine. The years spent waking up every morning with another enormous spot having magically appeared on my face and wearing a brace that made me look like Richard Kiel from James bond every time I smiled were certainly not years I’d consider the best of my life.

Hormones were the biggest nightmare. Being a teenage boy is horrible because every time a girl so much as smiled at me, I would end up almost poking their eye out. No male has any control over this unfortunate hormonal condition which is why, in all photos of me between the age of about 12 and 17, I can be seen playing around with my undercrackers.

Another thing I despised about being a kid was being forced to accompany my parents to go and see friends and relatives. Basically I was forced to sit there and be patronised for half an hour before being completely ignored for the rest of the day. Children can’t join in adult conversations because they don’t know what the hell adults are talking about. Adults wouldn’t take a child seriously if they attempted to join in anyway. Plus adults are mind-numbingly boring.

I couldn’t wait to become an adult so I would be treated like an equal, be able to make my own decisions and be able to voice my opinion. Sadly, I very quickly realised this isn’t allowed even in the adult world. This is due to something called political correctness, which is basically a law that dictates what we can and cannot do and, more specifically, what we can and cannot say.

I am not allowed to say what I really think for risk of offending people. For example, I wouldn’t be able to say if I want to smear all Muslim extremists in pig fat and shoot them between the eyes because I would get a Jihad put on me. I can’t say I’d like to see how quickly Muslim women would take off their veil if I set fire to it because that would make me a racist. I can’t use the word cocoon any more because that would make me a racist with s stutter. I can’t comment on the Polish immigrants because I’d be accused of being the next Hitler. I can’t make jokes about the gays, the Jews, the Arabs, the Pikeys or the mentally retarded. But it’s still okay to have a pop at the police.

There was that awfully absurd situation last year when Paul Chambers logged onto Twitter and made what was quite obviously a joke about bombing Robin Hood airport because they were closed. He was charged and fined. This was on Twitter people, Twitter! Was he wearing a turban? Was his name Achmed? No. He was some random cheeky chappy. I won’t even go into the irony of joking about blowing up an airport that is named after a terrorist.

Twitter was again the target of some ludicrous censorship a few months later when Tory Gareth Compton was arrested for tweeting his desire to stone Yasmin Alibhai-Brown. Whatever happened to freedom of speech? And can somebody please stone Yasmin Alibhai-Brown?

What worries me slightly about the above examples is how quickly those people were apprehended and arrested. To me that indicates how closely Joe Public is being watched by the authorities for no good reason.

We are also being forced to change our language to accommodate political correctness. The traditional names for many things have had to be altered to avoid offending no one in particular. Words like gay, dead, spastic, lazy, dumb and ugly have to be replaced with words like different, metabolically impaired, mentally challenged, motivationally dispossessed, intellectually disadvantaged and Wayne Rooney.

Other silly examples are things like school blackboards being renamed to chalk boards to avoid offending black people. The same logic applies to the term ‘accident black-spot’ and referring to a weird sibling ‘the black sheep of the family’.

What these political correctness activists have actually done is force a situation where we have our lives dictated for us. We are no longer able to think for ourselves or act for ourselves and we have to be very careful about what we do and say in case we get into trouble. Do you know what else operates a similar policy? A totalitarian regime. Read George Orwell’s book ‘1984’ to see how close we have come.

This is actually a very scary thought. History is littered with stories of people who have spilt blood and given their lives for freedom. These wet, left-wing, nanny-state mentalists have become so obsessed with trying to make everyone equal and to ensure that all in this democracy have the same privileges but what they have actually done is quite the opposite. This is no longer a democracy; it’s a dictatorship. So what do you think will come next? I’ll tell you: revolution!

Cheerful aren’t I? So I thank you for reading this far down. You are indeed a brave man or woman. I would now advise you to delete this article, deny all knowledge of having read it and change your name before the authorities come banging on your door and arrest you for being a conspirator against the greater good. I, however, know it is too late for me. I know my claim, using Newspeak obviously, that I’m mentally challenged will not work. I will become a martyr and be sent to room 101.