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Dear “The Establishment”,

As we all know, one of the most important facets of life at University is the social side that people take part in. If it turns out you weren’t aware of this that might go some way to explaining some of your recent decisions. You learn something new every day and I’m happy to impart that bit of knowledge upon you.

Big parts of the social experience for many people (I’ve asked them) are the nights out that the SU provides on campus. Essex is in a unique position compared to many Universities in that it is able to provide easy to access nights out on campus, rather than people having to into town where specific requirements of some students (IE disabilities) may not have been as well thought out. The SU has often prided itself on the nights out it provides, in particular Sub Zero. Several times during my open day and Fresher’s Week I was reminded of how Sub Zero had won the Rowntree’s Fruit Pastilles best student venue award, or whatever it was. I’m eating Fruit Pastilles at the moment and figured that was as likely a sponsor for something Essex would win as anything else.

The SU has consistently been able to expand the musical tastes by bringing in exciting new acts that no one has ever heard of. In fact these acts are so “underground” they probably still work in Wilkinson during the day so they can afford bus fare to get to the University to perform. Not that I begrudge these prodigal DJs being given some time to make their way and perhaps graft their way on to being on a late night slot on their local radio station.

This is why the decision to remove the ability to buy tickets online is one that confuses and enrages me! The student body has had little to no consultation on this, which for a decision the magnitude of this is simply unacceptable. Even the decision to bring in a cinema which exclusively shows movies people already have on DVD had something in the way of a consultation process. What is more, instead of giving us prior warning to explain the changes you have decided to just implement them with little regard of what the reaction of the students you claim to represent might be. Kind of like shopping for presents blindfolded then throwing away all the receipts and hoping for the best.

This decision will affect those who live off campus the most, why would people run the risk of going on to campus when they could be turned away at the door. Even worse, half a friendship group might be able to gain entry whilst the other half wouldn’t be allowed in. Buying tickets online ensures that you know that you will gain entry and will be able to enjoy your night without the worry of time constraints. I like to be able to purchase my ticket for Sports Fed knowing I’ll be able to enjoy that particular wind down after a hard day of losing for the Wii Tennis second team.

 In my view, a large number of students will not bother going onto campus for their night out and thus the SU will lose business not only from ticket sales but also from drinks sales. I understand the SU is a not for profit organisation, but I was unaware that the grand aim was to continuously lose money. Though if that is the case, then this policy is a cracking way of going about that, really well done guys.

Not angry, just disappointed,

Antony Taylor xxx

“Every few years the issue of the Falklands arises and causes a slight stir within Britain, usually after the enormous pressure of our compelling and thought provoking arguments as to our claim to the Islands. Talking to those outside of Argentina is a regrettable task, for I cannot speak English and most of them cannot speak Spanish. This whole article is, in fact, put through Google translate. Apologies are many great if broken English is to be appearing.

“But the need to keep pestering Britain to give us back our Islands has never been more crucial. Like a cruel parent who lets their child have a little bit of wine with a meal so they become intoxicated and some in Britain would call “deluded”, they then have snatched it from us. Enough is enough, why does Downing Street get the cabernet sauvignon while we only get the Ribena? Is it time for Cameron to drop these dreams of letting the people decide and free the Falklands from his economically moribund nation?

“I don’t want to delve too far into the history of the British’s occupation of our great Islands. It is a nuanced history, full of books and people and frankly quite a lot of reading. I don’t wish to bore people with a history lesson when what we should be focusing on is the present and the future of our islands. I’d also recommend that you don’t read any further than this article on the subject. All you really need to know is right here to be honest with you. 

“Spain held the Islands briefly during the eighteenth century before returning them to the British in 1770, despite claiming continued ownership until 1806 when their governor departed. Yet today, Spain makes no claim on the islands. Which is their problem really, perhaps if they had a better poker face they wouldn’t have lost any and all right to claim the islands that night.

“British actor Sean Bean has, possibly, expressed his support for Britain with no grasp of how to stay alive in films and with no obvious motive for wanting to support Britain’s occupation of the islands, apart from perhaps to try and get written into a heroic Falklands movie in which he isn’t killed off in some manner. Really, why would you trust anything the guy says on the Falklands? He clearly can’t read contracts clearly enough to realise that his character will inevitably die. Why can we expect him to read the entire history of the Falklands properly? A history, I reiterate, which you should not yourself read either. 

“The British have completely colonised and overrun our beautiful Island, probably ruining the landscape in the process with wind-farms or whatever it is the British are obsessed with these days. I’ve not visited the Falklands myself for a while, but I can only assume the place is overrun with fish & chip shops and pregnant teenagers. The remaining resistance group of Argentinians don’t “get on” with them so much as begrudgingly put up with. Like everyone in the Chelsea dressing room with a wife “puts up” with John Terry. 

“I ask the question: how would you feel if someone you held dearly lived, worked or was stationed on the Falklands and was felt continuously threatened by the possibility of Argentine occupation? Sounds fantastic doesn’t it? It’s like a seemingly endless advent calendar waiting for our invasion; I mean liberation of our great islands! For the whole thing to be put to rest, we must finally take back what is rightfully ours! Britain can no longer look down on us like a disappointed parent telling us what Islands we can or cannot have!

“Never has there been a more pressing time to offer a referendum than now. A referendum for a call to military action, that is! Whilst many still willingly or unwillingly believe Britain’s lie that the islands remain their territory, a referendum result in favour of the Falklands returning to Argentinian control (which I am convinced will be the outcome) shall hopefully convince the doubters and victims of British propaganda of Britain’s unlawful and much maligned ownership of the islands. 

“In the meantime, Cameron is a little bitch.”

“Yours”

Original article here http://www.theblueguerilla.co.uk/2013/01/r-grassroots-falklands-response-to-no10.html

Since last year at University, I seem to have learnt very little from my mistakes in my attitude towards study. Yes, I may have got a high 2:1 but that was mainly due to panicky last minute study and cramming a couple of topics per module and praying they would come up on the exam. This tactic worked, not due to divine intervention, the praying was more an excuse to procrastinate even more than I already was. It was sheer dumb luck. Dumb luck because my actions last year suit the word perfectly. 

Nobody likes Mondays, at least Monday mornings (unless they’re getting sex/bacon/sexon) because it brings with it a horrible inevitability. The inevitability that you will actually have to do something, because the economy demands people work and don’t just lie about doing nothing. As a student, I do a lot of lying about doing nothing, this is often accompanied by eating.

Sadly Monday means I have to stop being a 20 stone man in a 10.5 stone man’s body and drag myself to campus to study. Roughly, here is how the day unfolds.

??.??: I wake up and check the time. I put question marks here because what time I wake up seems to be randomly determined by forces beyond my control. Like what weapon you get on Mario Kart, sometimes it’s the star, but mainly it’s a banana peel.

10.00: I make it to my lecture! Hurrah! I sit down next to a friend, so long as they don’t have anyone already sitting there. I then proceed to stare blankly at the lecturer for an hour, making very few notes and lots of poor jokes. 

12.00: By this stage I’ve already been sarcastically congratulated by nearly all of my friends for turning up to something. I feel like Muttley from Catch the Pigeon whenever he does anything remotely good. By now, if all the sarcastic, metaphorical medals were real, I could probably go on “The Real Deal” and snag myself a tenner or so. Mainly in scrap value.

2.00-6.00: By now, I’ve finished my class and don’t know what to do. I might do reading? The more likely version of events is that I’ll go into the library, read for like ten minutes and then text someone to see if they are on campus. Preferably someone with Fox’s Glacier Fruits. Who sits with me in the Government common room. This is a very specific person.

10.00: The other hours aren’t interesting. What is interesting is pre-drinks for Milk It! Head up to Top Bar for the second or third time that day to drink whatever sorrows you have away before heading out on the dancefloor and realising life isn’t actually that shit.

2.30: Leave milk it. Alone. Go back home. Smile and regret it the next day.

“Do not judge lest you be judged” is a phrase which rings very true in a lot of walks of life. A great example are fat football fans who chant abuse at their own players, as gravy from their £2 pies dribbles down their undersize, out of date shirt. Those who can’t do, teach. Although “get up you pansy twat” is teaching in only the very loosest sense of the word. Footballers, sometimes, bite back and say things like “Well unless you endeavour to grace the pitch with your sublime play then I suggest you remain taciturn”.

Such a situation has arisen for one of the writers of the Fox, in which he or she has taken it upon themselves to judge the god awful dancing of their close friends and write a sarcastic article on how this could be improved. “How to not seem like a total prick in Sub Zero” could have been brutally summed up by just saying “Don’t bother going” as futile the task to improve everyone’s dancing to an acceptable level is. However, in the author’s haste to poke fun at their peers, I have forgotten that I am also a terrible dancer and should’ve taken heed. Such a situation is like trying to herd cats, when you yourself are also a cat.

A large part of the problem stems from limitations in the advice the author gave. “Copy everyone else” doesn’t really work when all your friends have pulled and you’re desperately looking round the room for someone who hasn’t. Unless you plan on joining your friend in grinding on some unsuspecting girl, then you can’t really copy people anymore (Pro-tip: Eiffel Towers are rarely a welcome suggestion). The key to singing along instead of dancing is knowing words. Not just singing any old words, which is a tactic lots of people employ to pretend they know, but the actual words.

In conclusion, so long as the author has decided it will be funny to write a half in fun all in earnest guide to improving dancing standards on campus perhaps it would be wise for them to give it a read. It may well have been full of sarcasm and dancing advice that would make Strictly judges want to break everyone’s legs. However, the advice was inadvertently a million times better than the current standard of the author’s dancing. Perhaps it’s time for me to swallow my pride and admit, I always look like a total prick in Sub Zero.

Lecture

• Made it to class with 2 minutes to spare despite waking up 20 minutes ago. It’s going to be a great day.
• Then again I never really was one for foresight.
• Complained about missing out on breakfast to friend sat next to me. “You should’ve woken up earlier” - Thanks for that Captain Hindsight.
• Speaking of foresight, whoever booked this room must not have realised how many people would turn up. Pehaps they were factoring in creeping apathy later on in the year. The smaller the room, the less depressingly empty it feels. At least that’s what I tell myself every night.
• No, you are not rescheduling the fucking lecture. You fuckers. Though it is nice that the Uni is playing by the “15 minute rule”.
• They cancelled the lecture. Time for breakfast.

Seminar

• Will the teacher arrive? Who knows. Has anyone done the reading? No, no one has. If they say they have, they’re a liar.
• Admin?! I came here for nothing! NOTHING!!!
• I gave the loudest “Here!” on the register. Thus asserting my dominance in the class as the person who gets most excited at their own name.
• I wish I had friends.
• My wrists appear to have slit themselves, I didn’t realise I was quite that unhappy with events.
• “People will have different opinions on what is acceptable or not, so you should do the reading” - My opinion is that not always doing the reading is entirely acceptable.
• Someone called “Hope” has just entered the room. I’d say “The room is now filled with Hope” but I feel that is a little insulting.
• Just over a month before the first essay is due. A month before I start it then.
• Due tomorrow? Do tomorrow!
• Ironically, the week the lecture on Printing was meant to be has gone wrong. As has the actual printing itself.

Hello children, it has been a while hasn’t it? My posts have been appearing with less and less regularity for a number of reasons. Firstly and most importantly, I’m not your monkey type-writer slave who is expected to churn out something amusing at the click of your mouse. I’m joking, I knew what I was in for when I signed that cursed contract, though it’s hard to type with cymbals in each hand. The fez is very catching though. Secondly, I have been enjoying my summer as has everyone else I’m sure. I think the audience for my blog is probably highest during term time when people are checking off the list of things they can use to distract themselves from actually doing work. Granted, reading my blog is possibly below “suicide” on a lot of these lists, but the point remains. I think it’s fair to have a summer hiatus. Lastly, I’ve sort of dried up for ideas a little bit, I have a few stored away for a rainy day but nothing concrete. Largely this is because of reasons 1 & 2.

Now on to the point of this post after I’ve just excused my own laziness, receiving A-Level results and what to afterwards. I fully recall this time last year, I was on holiday on the Isle of Wight with some of my wonderful friends. I think perhaps I might be one of the only ones who remembers that day as most of them were blind drunk most nights. I was unable to sleep the night before, I’m not entirely sure I wanted to. Like a museum night watchman who hates his job, at some points I wanted to nod off and yet I had more important things on my mind. I eventually did get to sleep for a blissful 1 hour of sleep. Though I woke up sweating like paedophile in a sweet shop.

This might sound silly just for A-Level results, I mean I could just retake, right? Well not really. I had already had to retake my second year after a bout of depression during my first attempt and I knew this was basically it. As good as my college were to me, I’m not sure they’d have accepted me giving it a third go. Going to university was always my goal from a young age, 16 to be exact. Sadly, in the particular place we stayed on the IoW there was hardly any phone coverage.

Like so many places in the UK they seem to have refused to believe technology exists and make no attempt to keep up. Like the lazy people during P.E. who the teacher scorns for putting no effort in, so I scorned the IoW for their poor investment into mobile phone masts. So I had to walk about half a mile to get good coverage to ring my mum up to see if the letter from UCAS had arrived. Granted, it’s a bit like the “First World Problems” version of an Oxfam advert, telling us how a small African child has to walk 20 miles for a thimble of water. But all this is in comedic hindsight.

This post is already quite long. So I shall continue it later, that’s great for you guys though. Right? You love reading my life story? RIGHT?!

Dance offs to settle court cases

Ken Clarke has brought in sweeping changes to the legal system right under everyone’s noses this week. The most dramatic of these changes has to be to create a TV channel under the BBC umbrella to exclusively air various court cases. This is in order to get more people interested in law and also give more justification to the license fee. Truly, what the BBC lacked was the gritty realism of actual criminal prosecutions.

The channel will include live commentary in every court case; with Mark Lawrenson moving from BBC Sport to be the frontman of the “BBC Court” commentary team. “I really feel my pessimistic outlook is more appropriate for an environment where people’s futures are on the line, rather than the premier league title” Mark mumbled, the words clearly pre-written. Other features include the ability to vote on how you think the court case should end, either via the red button or online. Originally the result of the votes were going to be the final decision for the court case, in place of an actual jury. However, after internet trolls had rigged the online voting so a 15 year old charged with stealing Smarties got the death penalty, the voting is now just for fun.

Furthermore, for every ten court cases aired, one of them will be settled via a dance off. Ken Clarke has said this is in order to cut bureaucracy and the time of various judges and lawyers. Critics have called this move “nonsensical” and “unfair”, however, perhaps if those people could throw some significant shapes, their minds might change.

Towns to be given corporate sponsorship

In a desperate attempt to get more investment flowing into the country and based of the success of the companies being given monopolies at the Olympic park, Osborne has decided to spread this across the country. “What we need during radical times are radical policies,” Osborne explained, “the CEOs of various successful companies have told me that them having monopolies in towns & cities across the country would be beneficial and since I have no idea what I’m doing, why not go for it?”

Some towns have already been twinned with companies to turn them into “Corporate Sponsor Towns”. Most of these towns have had their names changed, to fit in line with their sponsors. Furthermore all small-medium sized businesses and in fact; all businesses other than the sponsors themselves, have been wiped out. These towns will be fully free from government regulation and will in effectively be governed by the corporations. This includes what is taught in schools and how the law works. For example, Coca-Colancaster has brought in a law that if anyone orders or tries to buy a drink other than Coca-Cola they are tried as a witch. Naturally, the way the trial works is for them to be thrown into a pool of Coke tied to a chair. If they die, then they would have died whilst enjoying the refreshing taste of Coke for as long as possible. If they live, they were a Witch, who was forced to enjoy the refreshing taste of Coke and hopefully converted.

Other sponsor towns now include “Nandover” which is Andover sponsored by Nandos. The town has recently seen an upsurge in teenagers wishing to buy houses there, mainly male teenagers. Unfortunately, the town has also seen an upsurge in accidental Piri Piri related deaths. Oxford, who are now sponsored by Crocs (the shoes) and have thus changed their name to “Crocsford”. Whilst applications to the university from snooty rich people have dropped dramatically, these have in turn been replaced by twats who think crocs are acceptable.

Wassup bitches. Here’s part 2 just like I promised. Promised being used in the loosest possible sense. The sense that I never actually promised this. But it makes sense for me to post this since I posted part one. Enjoy friends <3

Thirdly. If you’ve not seen the movie, heard any of the songs on the album or played a single level of a game. Who cares? All you need to form a well-reasoned and balanced opinion on something is to have seen a trailer. Then when people call you out on not having seen something, you can say that you have and then cite things you’ve seen in the trailer. Perhaps quickly look on the Wikipedia page and copy and paste something from the synopsis section. Not having seen/heard/played these things means that your user reviews or comments can be quicker to the point and not bogged down in detail no one cares about. You know, details like “Who starred in it?” “How long does the single player last?”  If you don’t like the look of something, a simple “Boring” will suffice. What justification is needed with that? After all, the movie is trying to sell itself to you, trying to justify you watching it by trying to make itself entertaining. Why stoop to its level by doing the same thing?

Fourthly. If someone continues to disagree with you and who just won’t shut up no matter how many caps lock filled replies you post, it may be time for the nuclear option. The race card. No matter what race you are, a simple “Wow, no need to be racist” will cause other members to go completely over the top and over analyse each and every last one of your adversary’s comments before hand and pick out something which could loosely be construed as being racist. Also, if a reviewer gives a rating you don’t agree with, remember to remind them that “You’d have loved this movie if you weren’t so jaded; maybe this isn’t the profession for you”. On top of that, if you disagree strongly, remember to swear at them lots, this will show you’re a grown adult with adult opinions that should be respected and reviewed. This should make any self-respecting journalist review their own opinions and they should eventually see reason and fall into line with yours.

 Last but not least. If someone accuses you of being a troll. Simply deny this; if you were a troll you’d be purposely posting things that were clearly incorrect or offensive in order to illicit a response. However, you are trying to enlighten the people by telling them the right opinions on things. Those who cry “troll” will soon see the light of day and convert to your way of thinking. Remember to ask “Why is stating my opinion trolling?” and if someone gives a seemingly valid reason, ignore them, who cares what they think anyway? Also, perhaps accuse them of being a troll back, if they keep spamming that you’re a troll it’s probably because they’re a troll themselves.

This is one of the first blog pieces I ever wrote and so I decided why not publish it onto here? It’s quite long, so I will split it into two parts. The being the first, such as how numbers work. Please to enjoy.

As we all know, the internet is full of despicable lies that need to be uncovered and exposed for what it really is! So what better target than movie/video game/music reviews you don’t agree with. Or if you feel the cause is great enough, then stack a second high horse on top of the one you’re already sitting on and write your own review for something.

 First and foremost, remember, your opinion is the one that matters most and you are also always 100% correct. The world doesn’t revolve around the sun; it revolves around what you thought of the latest release by Tech N9ne or the newest Call of Duty game. Never let anyone forget this, the best way to do this of course, is by spamming your opinion incessantly. Remember, when you see someone who posts an opinion that is incorrect, call them out on it, personally. Challenge them because there’s nothing the ladies love more than a dominant keyboard warrior who probably didn’t need to break out the racial slurs in the first reply, but did anyway because he’s “not playing around”. If you feel people aren’t listening to your enlightening truths then remember caps lock is your friend! People always notice and respect people who type a post entirely using caps lock. Far from looking childish, it makes you look like a real grown man, a man who is taking charge of a situation he believes in; and who will fight for the crusade of truth against the dark pit of lies which is the other people’s opinions.

Secondly, if you read a review on Spill.com or one of many other media sites that didn’t receive a very good score, especially if it’s one you’ve been waiting patiently for, remember to remind everyone it’s because it’s “not a AAA release, so of course they will score it low”. By the same token, if a movie gets a good review and is also a highly anticipated one, or one that is getting a lot of publicity remember to remind everyone that the high rating was essentially bought. If the website is hosting adverts for it at the time, all the more fuel for your fires of truth.

Similarly, if something less mainstream gets a high rating, then you’d best well call them out on that too! The only reason people give something no one cares about is because they’re massively pretentious and want to appeal to hipsters. Also, remember to get the word “pretentious” in your argument as much as humanly possible. In no way is that word overused to describe non-mainstream things these days and it will make you appear clever.

Furthermore, remember to consider this, if a site gives something a low rating, then in the comments section complain and say “no justification” was given. It doesn’t matter how many “reasons” they give, if they’re reasons you don’t agree with then no justification was given, obviously. Then proceed to give the thing reviewed the highest rating possible and ignore any/all flaws. At the very least score it 2 points higher than what the publication did. Similarly, with high reviews, give it at least 2 points lower and cite the “selling out” argument.

“After successfully turning myself into a minor figure of Twitter hate last night for suggesting that the opening ceremony had left-wing tones, what is there left for me to do? Who is there left to offend after getting under the skin of the wishy-washy, liberal, Guardianista, twitter based, political correctness brigade? As an insignificant Tory backbencher, annoying people on the internet is a career highlight for me. Like a really fat bloke at a premier league football match who starts swearing at his own players and manager, despite the fact no one actually cares about his opinion. Sure I might get a five minute chat on “You’re on Sky Sports” after the match where I can air my tactical wisdom. When I’m sitting at home by myself, my sixth beer in hand, watching constant re-runs of my own appearance on “YOSS”, I’ll know I’ve made it!

I thought the opening ceremony was meant to be a celebration of Britain’s history? Where was the celebration of Britain’s greatest historical triumph ever? The Great British Empire of course! It was a shame to see history trying to be rewritten by having blacks as anything other than slaves during the Victorian period! Slavery and colonisation, that’s the sort of integration I like to see! None of this mixed-race marriage nonsense where the state force blacks to marry whites in order to look good on their political correctness quotas!

Furthermore, the opening ceremony really opened my eyes to what a mess the NHS is! Now, I’ve never set foot inside an NHS hospital in my life and so I’m assuming what I saw last night was an accurate portrayal of what happens. So based entirely on that, the NHS reforms can’t come soon enough! Fuck reforms, dismantle the entire thing, I know people keep saying the Tories are trying to dismantle the NHS as a form of attack, but good! People will thank us, what bloody use are dancing nurses and trampoline beds when you’re critically ill? When I break my leg I want crutches and a cast, not fucking show tunes! Clearly the NHS is another example of left wing extravagance trying to hypnotise the poor into voting for them. The bastards.” - Aidan Burley

“One must apologise if one looked glum throughout the entire proceedings but I have a very good reason for this. I was glum, throughout the entire proceedings. I can’t believe I stopped playing Wii tennis for this rubbish! Daniel Craig convinced me it would be a fun night out, maybe have a few drinks, sing along to our favourite songs. I knew literally none of the songs! It was the worst play list ever and I’ve listened to some of Harry’s stuff. Though Harry does tend to stick more to wholesome Nazi soldier songs, he unfortunately does throw in a bit of hip-hop from time to time. When I hear the contrasts of those two types of music, I do sit back and wonder sometimes what could have been in the world. Maybe Hitler was right.

It was bad enough watching the musical which looks like it was done by the worst Britain’s Got Talent audition ever. Seriously, no one was in time and what they did could hardly be called dancing. They just waved their arms about manically like Supermarionation on speed. They then had to parade all these strange foreign countries, most of whom had names like really awful Scrabble hands. I would have cried a little each time I saw a flag walk past with a union jack in it, but fortunately my tear ducts have dried out. Philip decided to dip his tongue in wax before we arrived, to make it a little more comfortable for himself whilst he was biting it to try and keep quiet. I’m surprised he didn’t have an aneurysm keeping it all back. Oh well, at least he now has a lot of material to help the BNP launch their own Christmas crackers.” - The Queen

There has been a strange tension in the air across the country as glorious sunshine has kept us all hostage for a 4th day in a row. No one really knows what it wants with any of us, no concrete demands have been made thus far. It just seems happy for us to get on with our own lives, just as it looms and watches over us. I think some symptoms of stockholm syndrome might be setting in, with various members of the public actually celebrating and praising the great weather.

For those of us who still know the truth, know that we’re being held captive by a malevolent being who wishes to brainwash us all into servitude. Well I won’t have it! Even if it is nice dog walking weather and generally everyone (even me) looks nicer in the sun. Maybe it isn’t so bad, I mean it is nice to lounge about in the garden listening to music. No! I must resist! Here are more tips on how to join the resistance and try and make captivity a little more bearable!

What to wear

One of the most important factors for a soldier in any resistance army is his equipment. Luckily this is a war in which weapons are useless, so you don’t need to be packing heat to defeat the heat. Yeah. There are a few important items, however, to ensure you don’t get mercilessly penetrated by the sun’s rays and to make sure you aren’t dizzy with no real clue of what’s going on. First off, wear a hat. Hats always look cool and the best part is your hair gets really sweaty underneath so when you take it off you can pretend you’ve been exercising. If you wear a cap, then make an audacious challenge to sunstroke by flipping it round backwards so it doesn’t actually shade your head and face properly. You could also make an audacious challenge to not looking like a twat by flipping it to the side.

Other notable fashion trends in summer include not wearing a top, if you’re a man, when it is any hotter than 15 celcius or so. Though it generally seems to be the two extremes of body shape that are the people who take their top off the most. Svelte, muscular men who walk round; offering to give directions to young women at any given opportunity so they can direct them using overdramatic poses and movements. On the other end of the spectrum you have the morbidly obese men who have decided that children should have to see their massive sunburnt bellies as it’s “character building” or something.

Playing sports

What better way to spend your time under the boiling hot, dehydrating rays on the sun than making yourself even more hot and dehydrated? Several, as a matter of fact. However, that isn’t to say playing sports in the sunshine isn’t a lot of fun. You could easily fall back on the traditional sports, like football or cricket to waste away the long summer afternoons. Make sure you bring along a contingent of female friends, as nothing impresses a woman more than watching you get red faced and out of breath after a whole minute of exercise. Football can get boring after a while though, especially if you’re losing and you’ve been playing it for two hours straight. Cricket can get boring. 

There are some more inclusive and summery sports that you can play whilst down at the park. The sort you’d never admit to actually enjoying quite a lot and the sort that if there’s a sports team for it at uni, you probably take the piss out of. I am of course talking about extreme ironing! Wait, not that, although I do have a secret burning passion for the sport. Let’s keep that between us though. Frisbee, is what I was actually on about. Laugh at your friends as they put all their strength into a throw for it to only travel about 3 yards in front of them. The secret to a good throw is a firm grip and good wrist action. You can even vary it up, add in rules like “You all have to hop” to really exhaust everyone after about 2 minutes.

We have now had two full days of glorious sunshine in a row, which is somewhat unusual for us in Britain because it’s currently summer and we’re not really used to this whole “sunshine” lark. Also, in typical show of unrealistic British optimism (see the back pages of papers during every tournament England is part of ever) we’ve now decided that summer has finally arrived! Proper summer that is, the sort you get in foreign countries. In fact, exactly the same (just much shorter), but you’ll still hear phrases like “Nothing beats a British Summer” or “British summers are the best!” I’ve never been entirely sure whether this is clever sarcasm or just pure delusion, like saying “Nothing beats a British football team” or “Our teenage pregnancy rate is the best!” I guess it depends on what you want. If you like being shouted at by cider drinking teenagers at the park, then yeah, British summers are the best.

However, being the optimist that I am (those who know me will have raised an eyebrow there) I have no doubt in my mind a glorious one month of summer has finally arrived. So now I am going to tell you all how to make the most out of this golden window of opportunity. Stay indoors. Guide over.

Only joking.

Going to the beach

Yes! Going to the beach is a mainstay of the British summer experience. In fact, so popular is this very British custom, they even do it in other countries, often with far more regularity than us. This is probably because they have better weather for it, much like football, we may have invented the seaside day-out experience*, but other countries are far better equiped at it.

So grab your towels and buckets and spades and silly inflatables and head on down! Try going during a weekday if you can, since literally no one else will have that exact same idea! Once there you can do a whole bunch of things, plus there’s sand! Yes that’s right, literally anything you could have done back home you can also do on the beach. With added sand! Build a sand castle, with sand! Play football, get sand in your face and shoes! Eat ice cream, drop it on the sand! The list of activities enhanced/ruined by sand is almost endless.

I am being a little disingenuous to the beach experience. There’s also the sea, which is great if you love salt in your eyes and mouth. I’ll stop now.

Getting a tan

Summer is generally the only time of year it is acceptable to have a nice tan. By acceptable, I mean realistic. If you see someone with a “great tan” during winter, then either they’re visiting from the southern hemisphere or they’ve decided to fake tan themselves up a bit. If you’re like me though, you tan quite nicely by yourself anyway (even if it takes a while) but are too self conscious to take your shirt off around other people to tan evenly.

The result of this obviously being you’re tanned on your legs (shorts) and on most your arms and your face. The rest of you is still as pale as a sheet and will continue to be so unless you rectify this. There are a few options here, you can either just keep your top on throughout the entire summer, even when you go to the beach and look a little odd swimming in the sea with a t-shirt on. Or you can try and even things out a bit. You could go get yourself a fake tan. If you’re a loser who likes spending money. Or you can just sit in your back garden, by yourself, with your shirt off and hoping nature will take its course. If you’re a loser who doesn’t like spending money.

I’ll do a second part to this guide some point in the future. I didn’t think I’d write quite as much as I have. By the time I write part 2 the whole thing might be moot and it’ll be raining loads anyway.

*This may or may not be true. Oh well.

There are already a lot of societies on campus and this is great news for those who like lots of choice but don’t really care if all of it is quality or not. Like internet dating, you’re never quite sure with what you’re in for until you go. Sure, they all say they’re nice on their webpage and love socialising. But half the time you’ll turn up to find out their membership numbers aren’t quite as impressive as on the photo they sent you. Even worse when they just decide not to show up at all. I’m sure lots of people will try and make societies next year too, only to discover that “Erotic novel soc” isn’t nearly as popular as they imagined it would be, especially not with the women. A bunch of guys sitting in a room talking about their thinly veiled real life sexual fantasies for some reason doesn’t bring the crowds in.

However, here are some ideas for societies that would definitely work and would be excellent.

Misogyny society

Are you tired of Feminists society hoarding all the gender issues just for the women without giving any consideration to the many plights men face? Are you sick of not being able to settle an argument with a woman with a cheeky slap on the arse? If so, then perhaps you should consider setting up a misogyny society! You might be thinking “We already have Sports Fed, why do we need this?” quite simply, as a great a job as Fed does making women lose self respect, not everyone is into sport. This will also be beneficial to Fem Soc, because it will keep them on their toes! What’s the point of a feminist society if equality is somehow achieved? It would be a pointless existence and so Misog Soc would be there to ensure their time, and more importantly SU money, isn’t going to waste! So join up brothers, whether it’s casually contributing to the intellectual library that is the LADbible or campaigning to make sandwich making a compulsory module for all women, there’s something to keep everyone active!

Bad video editing and graphic design society

Pretty much all societies these days use social media in some capacity, most just having a Facebook group or a like page. Some are a little more adventurous, creating a Wordpress blog or Youtube channel to keep their members up to date with campaigns and various goings on. Furthermore, pretty much all societies incorporate extremely poor graphic design and video editing skills into all this. For some reason, no society on campus appears to have anyone who is competent on Photoshop or with video editing software. As such, you have advertising which is made entirely in Microsoft word and Youtube videos with 5 second long awkward silences between each scene. So, instead of having all this media incompetency spread across a whole bunch of societies you don’t care about, there should just be one. Now you can join a society where the only point is to create really bad advertising (for yourself) and shoot really poor videos, without having a bunch of causes no one cares about tacked on. I mean sure, Marine Biology Soc has awful video editing, but do you really care about marine biology? No, of course not.

Now with dialogue!

Kingston and the leader of the opposition took their respective places and there was an unnerving silence as the first question came in. The leader of the opposition, it should be noted, was a talking badger named Carmichael. The badger couldn’t speak due to magic or any such thing; rather, he was forced to learn English and speaks through a Stephen Hawking like device.  The opposition party figured that the appeal of being a talking animal was what won Kingston the election and so a distressed badger that talks in a robot voice would win the hearts and minds of voters. At first all he could say was “help” and “someone call the police”, however, he soon realised that doesn’t help win political arguments and so gave up dreams of freedom.

Kingston dealt with the first question with ease, since it was just the one about what other business he has for the rest of the day. On the agenda was having dinner with president Obama and also welcoming in investment from China whilst convincing them to improve their human rights standards. The second question, however, was not so easy for Kingston to deal with. The leader of the opposition stood up, rubbed his arm as if to signal pain and then launched the obvious question at Kingston.

“Why is it, Mister Speaker, that my right honourable friend the Prime Minister thinks it is okay to put personal pride ahead the health of the nation?” Carmichael questioned.

“I’m not entirely sure what the leader of the opposition is talking about, I’m proud of this country’s health and proud of this country’s NHS, what makes me proud is that this government is seeing a real terms increase in spending!” Kingston replied to a chorus of loud cheers and arm waving which quickly descended into cries of pain as they soon remembered their arms were broken.

“Yes, I’m sure the Prime Minister was hoping that sound-bite would be enough to win this argument, but if he’s so concerned about media image perhaps he should have taken a look at the news this morning to discover the largest outbreak of arm breakages this country has ever seen!” Carmichael persisted.

“I still fail to see what the leader of the opposition thinks this has to do with me,” Kingston replied angrily, before being passed some notes explaining how it was entirely his fault, “oh, I see now. Well, perhaps instead of blaming me, the children and the rest of my party apparently, should be taking some personal responsibility!”

“So there we have it folks! If you decide to copy the Prime Minister, after him explicitly telling you to do so and you end up breaking your arm then it’s your own fault! You’re a role model to these children, they look up to you and if you’re going to go round saying they won’t have friends if they don’t copy you of course they’re going to copy you!” Carmichael probed.

“Okay, I confess that my slipping over and falling on my arm was not a cool dance move I invented. I lied, I was trying to save my own pride, but now I can’t keep the truth inside, no longer can I let this just slide. The truth is, I just fell over and sorry to all the children and adults with broken bones, next time I’ll be more honest, consider this the first U-turn of this government.” Kingston concluded.