If you ask me what is going to happen tonight is potentially dangerous, irresponsible, inflammatory and lunatic; I love it! Tonight, at brandies, will be held the first (and probably only) arts social, which will run alongside the football social. Now, to understand why this is so dangerous, you have to understand what a social is, so I’ll explain.
A social is a pissup; a weekly drinking match held by the football team.. they all sit in a circle playing drinking games and shouting loudly. I suppose it’s a type of bonding ritual, and it has been held in brandies every Wednesday for a long time.
Someone in my year – possibly Emma – has had the bright idea of mimicking this with arts students. It’s a form of social experiment, to see whether arts students can get into the same frame of mind as their sporting peers. The problem is I find it more than likely that the footballers will take umbrage at it. They will no doubt see it as inflammatory, and accuse us of ‘taking the piss’. Thus the attempt to bridge the gap between the two groups might open it even wider. I rather doubt the sports students will take it in good humour, and might see it as a mockery. Indeed, someone has scrawled cancelled over many of the posters advertising this event obviously, the footballers do not want it to happen.
As for me, I can’t wait. I plan to stay sober throughout, and just observe. My bet is there will be carnage, arguments, possibly even fighting. In the words of James T Kirk, ‘sounds like fun.’
I bought my zentai, thinking I’ll have to keep it as my little secret, but it has proved to be one of the best investments I ever made. It really did surprise me when charlotte said she wanted to wear it to a party on Saturday night, up in Manchester; what surprised me even more is she actually went through with it. She actually wore the damn thing in public, something I am yet to do.
What is yet more amusing is the club offered her a job as a podium dancer, and asked her to bring the suit. Now charlotte plans to buy one of her own, in pink.
I think I’ve started something.
dammit knew I’d forgotten something.
happy 21st birthday to my great little bro!
I spent the weekend at home. We had this odd kind of Christmas two, since we were in Australia in December, so my brothers (including Kat) were there, as well s uncle rich and aunt Jill from Sussex. It was excellent, as ii finally got to open presents (as if a trip to Australia wasn’t a cool enough present).
Everyone seemed to have a good time. Most of the time was spent in the conservatory, playing games and talking. It made me happy to find my uncle was a fellow bond fan, so I got mum to make us two martinis on Saturday night, which put us both out for the count. We also played a game of Lord of the Rings monopoly, which, despite being fun, struck me as something of a heresy – merchandising can go too far.
It was nevertheless great to see everyone, and the weekend went too fast. I see my brothers all too rarely these days, although we talk online – sometimes – and Luke has promised me to send me some more music, including some Berlioz, which I’ve been wanting for ages.
Oh well, back to the slog of uni. Perhaps we can get together in he summer, maybe play some cricket.
I better brush up my Yorker.
as a disabed person, I am supposed to have a ‘climb every mountain’ attitude. If you ask me, this is silly. I aint climbing no mountain until jet boots are invented, (and lookwhat happened to the scooter). anyway, adventures are damn uncomfortable affairs, whichh make you late for dinner. besides, you could fall of, like this this cripples not going near no moun-tain.
I was stuck in Crewe earlier, waiting for my bus when I came across this fasinating report of primate tool use. It seems that our cousins are more intelligent than we think. It just goes to show how appearances may deceive – people tend to think I look unintelligent, and historically us spics were dismised as ”retarded”. But boy did we prove them wrong. I am persanally quite expert at poking people with pointed sticks.
This morning was the first morning in two weeks where my first thoughts weren’t about rich. They were, ‘better make that bibliography today’. I subsequently made said bibliography.
I am starting most definitely to feel better. I have been going around with a song in my mind all day – one which always cheers me up. Ladies and gents, turn your speakers to max, and click here now!
It’s time to calm down before I kill myself. The last few days have seen me doing some stupid things. On Friday night I was at a house party; I was pretty cut up about Rich and just let rip, downing half a bottle of Jack Daniels. I was at a low ebb that night and frankly didn’t give a rats ass about even getting home, nor perhaps waking up.
But wake I did. God did I have a hangover. The worse ever. Nevertheless, it was necessary – I needed a peak, a focal point for grief. Something to look back upon and think now I have done that I can let go. What happened to Rich was fucked up, but I need now to get on with my degree.
Taking that road trip Saturday was also very stupid. When they heard about it my friends told me off. Literally told me off, like an errant child. ”What if you had been run over? What if the battery had run out?” They’re right, of course, but on Saturday I was so full of hatred with the world I didn’t care.
It was on Sunday morning that I smiled for the first time in a week. For one, my hangover had gone. For another, after lunch, Charlie asked if she could try on my zentai suit. She’s going to a party on Saturday and wants to go as some kind of lizard. She seems to like it, for she put it on in my flat and walked across campus in it. Best thing I ever saw – a very pretty lady in a skin tight lycra catsuit, complete with feet, hood, and gloves, walking across campus merrily waving to people. The football team walked past and were highly amused. I knew that thing was a good investment.
It’s time not to get on with the business of doing a degree. This morning’s seminar gave me more impetus for my work on post-structuralism. Yesterday I was able to write for the first time in a week. In all my weekend of stupidity has done me lots of good, I reckon.
Or it might just be the sight of C in that catsuit…
what in the name of crap, fuck, and all that is holy is this sorry, I just had to post it. you give yanks books annd thats what happens
all i’m saying today is never drive 6 miles from crew in a chair if you dont want a runny nose the day aftter. especially bad after drinking half a bottle of jd through a straw the night before.
life is fun.