Every type of boy you would’ve known at Catholic school, and what they’re probably doing now

Home of the boisterous and land of the sexually frustrated

The British all-boys Catholic school, an institute shrouded in mystery. Logic would have you believe that a school such as this should be the bastion of purity, but logic is a lie.

From personal experience, they are an unexpected breeding ground of the crudest and most aggressive of England’s offspring. Every creed, subculture and stereotype of adolescent boy lives within these walls. But where are they now?


Unlike the majority of the pupils he attends more than just midnight mass. His hand was always annoyingly up high in R.E lessons and he claims he’s only terrible at talking to girls because he’s “waiting until marriage”. This boy’s vow of chastity tends to either be broken in the first term of lower Sixth (if he transfers to a local girls schools) or the third night of Freshers’ in a drunken romp with a girl who’s clear agnosticism matters not a bit to him.

During his first year of uni he mixes in with a different crowd with alternative views on creation and begins to question everything. He regularly lies to his mother on the phone saying that he is “regularly attending mass”.

Like all formerly devout Catholic boys he walks through life with a strong guilt whenever he finds any sacrilegious jokes funny or agrees with the a Richard Dawkins Theory.


He holds up the queue for school dinners with £50 notes, his school shoes cost more than your Dad’s car. Why on earth is he here?  He is the first one in his family to not go to Eton because he somehow managed to come across as being overly self-entitled in his interview. He suggested that he might be a better fit for Harrow instead, to which his Dad responded, “I’ll take you up to the mountains and sacrifice you like a lamb before that ever happens. Etonia or a Catholic compromise. 

He gets the best tutor courtesy of the Bank of Dad. Although not blessed with natural intelligence, he has the manners and decorum of the son of a dead Dukedom. Summer’s spent taking leadership positions he didn’t earn in Daddy’s business make accounting and management his greatest weapon. He pretentiously goes on to study Classics and Economics at Oxford, which he finds to be mundane.

However things brighten up; a stint in the Bullingdon Society shows him how to live like a spoilt-rotten rogue. The years of Catholic education have made him become disillusioned with his own kind. He has no worries about his undergrad results day however, as Daddy dearest has got him a fast-track route into a political party. 


At the start of year seven he is a socially awkward, physically inept homunculus. He is late to lessons because his bag is too heavy for his small frame to be able to walk at a decent pace. In spite of his unfortunate situation he possesses natural intelligence. For the first five years he is at the bottom of every bundle, the last picked for every sport and absent from the list of every party. Then suddenly, his metamorphosis takes place. He trades in his Ronnie Corbett glasses for a pair of contact lenses, delayed puberty finally kicks in making him better looking than everyone.

His years spent performing school plays to a 30 person strong audience pay off and he goes off to study at RADA when he finishes school. He goes on to have an incredibly successful acting career which you are constantly reminded of as you see his smug good-looking face on every TV channel. Oh, and he probably ends up getting with your date at Sixth form prom as payback for all the times you pea-nutted him in year eight. 


His unmatched mastery of the million different ways to butter-up and brown-nose every member of staff, from technician to teacher, has earned him a prefect tie. He runs straight to the on-duty teacher when you’re playing an illegal game of bulldog. You can find him regularly correcting younger pupils on their uniforms because they’re too puny to retaliate.

This prick will probably end up being MP for the local constituency one day. His machiavellian nature, deluded ego and outward charm translate perfectly into politics. 


He is the dislike and top hateful commenter on every YouTube video you’ve ever watched. When he’s not gaming, he’s watching gaming videos. His internet search history tells you all you need to know about him. At some point during school he has a couple of puffs so the washout types will think he’s cool. He jumps on his electric scooter and takes on university.

By first year he believes he knows everything and is destined to change the world. By second year he takes the ballsiest risk of his young life drops out to devote all his time to his gaming software start up. When his company goes public he becomes a millionaire overnight. He now has the power, capital and influence to destroy the people he used to want to impress. Eventually Catholic guilt kicks in and philanthropy seems more noble than petty victory.


His main hobbies are Tinder and being the instigator, as well as reciprocal of all of the school’s peer pressure. He’s also the captain of the Rugby First XV, giving him a status of God amongst men at the school.

Alas, what goes up must always and eventually come down. His ego complex gets the better of him through life as he thinks everything should be gifted to him causing him to go from dead end job to dead end job. His hairline begins to recede in his early 20’s and he is a shadow of his former self by 30.

He then goes on to have a detrimental relationship with his son as he tries to live his failed dreams through him. Years of chain-chugging Stella after Stella has turned his once Taylor Lautner torso into a James Corden blubber gut. It pains me not to say that the Head Boy peaked at High school.