Right. I’ll level with you. It’s been like two weeks since the last edition and I don’t know what to write this on. So I’m just going to dump a whole bunch of things that happened into my ranting jokebox and see what comes out. Ready?
For starters, a rumour got spread that David Cameron received an unenthusiastic blowjob from one third of a BLT back in his university days, but the Conservatives played it cool and decided to ignore it. Non, je ne prosciutto rien.
Meanwhile, in the US, Libertarian Party candidate and possible Mad Max villain Augustus Inviticus admitted he sacrificed a goat once and drank its blood, because Americans don’t screw around.
Also, it was my 21st birthday last Wednesday, which means I’m just a technically-adult dirtbag, baby! …or I’m allegedly an adult? Maybe? I shouldn’t be. I hope somebody got fired for that blunder. Anyway, I decided to buy myself a Star Wars cake with a stormtrooper on it to celebrate, because watching a pale, sad-eyed face confront its own mortality as I come at it with a knife is probably a metaphor for myself at this point. And also, stormtroopers are neat.
I gave the cake to my flatmates for this year, or at least the ones I know exist. I’ve only met about seven of them – I might have to start leaving cameras out for the others while practising my Attenborough voice. And that’s basically it. Damn.
What else is worth writing about?
…DUCKS! We still have ducks! Look at them! Going in the water, out of the water like a bunch of indecisive tools. PICK A SIDE, DAMMIT! Make a choice and stick to it! LIKE MEN!
Also, oh yeah, Freshers’ Fair happened! I alternated between stalls. The Doctor Who Society had me slowly dying of heatstroke in a Tom Baker scarf, since I was in the Exhibition Centre, and that day the Exhibition Centre was basically an oven where you could get free pens. I gradually degraded from offering jelly babies to freshers, to offering jelly babies to anyone, to offering jelly babies to things that moved near me (such as banners, small children or my own hand).
I also ended up visiting the Sports Centre – though those who’ve seen my physique might wonder how I crossed that threshold without bursting into flames – and to round things off, I ended up standing outside the student media tent on behalf of Nouse. See? You don’t need to take a gap year if you want to help a struggling, impoverished organisation.
Also yeah: this year we ended up in a tent. Just sort of staring balefully out at the grey clouds, while the UN presumably scrambled to give us aid and the Daily Mail thundered about sending ‘em all back to Grimston House. Still, if nothing else, trying to hand out papers for free was a great spiritual journey in teaching me about rejection. And everyone was nice enough… except for that one guy from The Tab who gave me a little sneer and a chuckle as he looked at me. Thanks, Draco. Maybe once you’re done with York’s second-best Sun tribute band you can try out for Mean Girls III.
And that’s about everything! So I guess since we’re on our recruitment drive I’ll round up by asking have YOU considered joining up with student media?! …no? Dammit. You’ve learned.
(WARNING: side-effects of student media include sleepless nights, terminal smugness and a career in Buzzfeed. Ask your editor if student media is right for you.)