All entries for November 2004
November 28, 2004
Do not drink vast quantities of cheap alcohol in your halls of residence/house of residence or if like some fellow South RLSers ghetto of residence. The affordability of the drinks will lead you to get bladdered and yet again mean you not leaving said place of residence, and therefore not giving you the chance to appreciate all your fellow University co-educatees.
Get to your friendly University of Warwick Students' Union, here drinks are not overly expensive, but equally not cheap enough to make you hurl and these drinks don't stain your skin (note to Collie goers who like myself drink those FX pre-mixed vodka mix things – only drink the white ones as the others stain your skin something chronic)
Drinking from bottles reduces the likelihood of your drinks being spiked, also not hanging round people who are likely to want to have non-consensual sex helps! If you’re a lass drinking beer from a bottle seems to leave you with the femininity that drinking pints removes, which means you can drink nice cold beer and still have the chance of some lovin’ (foolish I know, but I’ve done studies)
The main problem with drinking from bottles is the higher cost in comparison in costliness between them and actual pints. Add to that they will undoubtedly be lessened by some hilarious git tapping the top of the bottle – don’t worry that’s probably the first bit of head he’s had in the presence of a women who could see him for a long while.
Another good thing about drinking from bottles, other than reducing the risk of nasty things happening, is that bottled beer seems to be an acceptable subsitute for a glass whilst on the move. Sitting in public with an open can of Carling seems a little dirty to me, mayhaps its the need for external equipment to get at the beer in a bottle which makes it that extra bit more classy?
November 22, 2004
10 years on and I’m swiftly approaching my 21st birthday, ah yes the birthday which allows me to get a minibus permit, drive on the continent, drink in America and most importantly brings me within 4 years of getting my hands on Dad’s car.
Here’s how we’ve all weathered, to be completely truthful, I don’t think apart from a little tweeking of haircuts and a change of glasses, we look any different.
Is there something in the Wye Valley (Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty and SSSI) which means we haven’t altered, or is it that our gene pool is so closed that development has been scuppered.
November 21, 2004
I've never quite understood the phrase "drug abuse", surely you are being abused by the drugs (your body and mind at least). Let’s see if throwing some definitions into the mix helps at all
v. used, us•ing, us•es
1.To put into service or apply for a purpose;
2.To avail oneself of; practice: use caution.
3.To conduct oneself toward; treat or handle: “the peace offering of a man who once used you unkindly” (Laurence Sterne).
4.To seek or achieve an end by means of; exploit: used their highly placed friends to gain access to the president; felt he was being used by seekers of favor.
5.To take or consume; partake of: She rarely used alcohol.
tr.v. a•bused, a•bus•ing, a•bus•es
1.To use wrongly or improperly; misuse:.
2.To hurt or injure by maltreatment; ill-use.
3.To force sexual activity on; rape or molest.
4.To assail with contemptuous, coarse, or insulting words; revile.
5.Obsolete. To deceive or trick.
Hmm, it would seem to me that the lines between drug use and drug abuse are quite blurred. It is all down to personal interpretation. As the person is indeed applying the drug to their system for a purpose, however it could be seen as maltreating the body.
Also, does the amount of drug use directly relate to the level of drug abuse. Furthermore is the use of Calpol just to make you sleep an abuse, but taking some crazy drug for the reason is was designed and manufactured drug use?
So next time you’re walking through the streets of Coventry, South RLS, or Newport please take a moment to question the so called drug abusing public what their take on the matter is.
Disclaimer: Any abuse/loss of limbs caused by carrying out the above is completely your fault! Plus you probably deserve it for being a numptee
November 17, 2004
In honour of the many blogs where political correctness is of the utmost importance, I offer a highly plagiarised story…………
Long ago in a kingdom far away, there lived a miller who was highly economically disadvantaged. This miller shared his humble dwelling with his only daughter, an independent young woman named Esmeralda. Now the miller was ashamed of his poverty, rather than being angry at the economic system that had marginalized him, and was always searching for a way to get rich quick.
“If only I could get my daughter to marry a rich man,” he mused, in a sexist and archaic way, “she’ll be fulfilled and I’ll never have to work another day in my life.” To this shabby end, he had an inspiration. He would start a rumour that his daughter was able to spin common barnyard straw into pure gold. With this untruth, he would be able to attract the attention of many rich men and marry off Esmeralda.
The rumour spread throughout the kingdom in a manner that just happened to be like that of wildfire and soon reached the prince. As greedy and gullible as most men of his station, he believed the rumour and invited Esmeralda to his castle for a May Day festival. But when she arrived, he had her thrown into a dungeon filled with straw and ordered her to spin it into gold.
Locked in the dungeon, fearing for her life, Esmeralda sat on the floor and wept. Never had the exploitativeness of the patriarchy been made so apparent to her. As she cried, a diminutive man in a funny hat appeared in the dungeon.
“_Why are you crying, my dear?” _he asked.
Esmeralda was startled but answered him: “The prince has ordered me to spin all this straw into gold”
“_But why are you crying?” _he asked again.
“Because it can’t be done. What are you, specially abled or something?”
The differently statured man laughed and said, “Dearie, you are thinking too much with the left hand side of your brain, you are. But you are in luck. I will show you how to perform this task, yes, but first you must promise to give me what I want in return.”
With no alternative, Esmeralda gave her assent. To turn the straw into gold, they took it to a nearby farmers’ cooperative, where it was used to thatch an old roof. With a drier home, the farmers became healthier and more productive, and they brought forth a record harvest of wheat for local consumption.
The children of the kingdom grew strong and tall, went to a cooperative school, and gradually turned the kingdom into a model democracy with no economic or sexual injustice and low infant mortality rates. For his part, the prince was captured by an angry mob and stabbed to death with pitchforks outside the palace. As new investment money poured in from all over the world, the farmers remembered Esmeralda’s generous gift of straw and rewarded her with numerous chests of gold.
When all this was done, the diminutive man in the funny hat laughed and said “That is how you turn straw into gold.” Then his expression became menacing, “Now that I have done my work, you must fulfil your part of the bargin. You must give me your first-born child!”
Esmeralda shot back at him “I don’t have to negotiate with anyone who would interfere with my reproductive rights!”
The vertically challenged man was taken aback by the conviction in her voice, deciding on a change in tactics; he said slyly, “Fair enough, dearie, I’ll let you out of the bargin if you guess what my name is.”
“All right,” said Esmeralda. She paused a second, tapped her chin with her finger, and said “Would it be Rumpelstiltskin?”
”_AAAKKK!!” _shrieked the man of non-standard height. “But….but….how did you know?”
She replied, “You are still wearing your name badge from the Little People’s Empowerment Seminar.”
Rumpelstiltskin screamed in anger and stamped his foot, at which the earth cracked open and swallowed him up in a rush of smoke and sulphur. With her gold, Esmeralda moved to California to open a birth-control clinic, where she showed other womyn how not to be enslaved by their reproductive systems and lived to the end of her days as a fulfilled, dedicated single person.
November 15, 2004
Apparently as you get older you turn into your gender respective parent. But surely they are themselves in the process of turning in to their gender respective parent. So who are we actually turning in to?
This leads me nicely (almost too nicely) to the picture opposite. I am meant to be turning into my mother, who in turn is turning in to hers, who therefore must be turning into her mother (the lady pictured is not my Great Grandmother Jancy, I apologise for stealing her image if she is your Great Gran).
So is this metaphorsis, or as some people put it "the change", actually evolution in reverse? Hmm, if throughout our life we are reverting to characteristics of the former generation it would seem to me that we could, possibly, on the verge of might be.
November 09, 2004
My name as the url would suggest is indeed Emily, however to all that have known me at uni, I am Milly.
Whilst applying for jobs I have had the confusing time of deciding whether I should apply as Emily or Milly (at one point I thought of applying as Emlyn in hope of confusing the employer).
In one interview the subject of my name came up, somehow I'd managed to apply as both Emily and Milly (clever little me). My interviewer told me that I had more the look of an Emily than a Milly.
Names are a strange things, people do say "aahh you look like a….(numptee some times, but dudes that's just rude)". So here for your visual consumption is what Emilys look like, I for one can't see any resounding similarities.
November 08, 2004
Please give a couple of pounds a week to provide this student with enough money to buy new contact lenses so she won’t have to worry about life’s little abstacles
Lenses for Limbs campaign!
The government makes us pay for our healthcare without compensating for it within our loans, what a clever helpful government!
I bring you further proof of the Warwick bubble.
This photo was taken in the upper heights of the Union building, in The Graduate Bar – or as I will be suggesting to the mighty CDCO Gaz Barker esq. “Area Graduate”.
Now, as to where the source for this alteration of gravity comes from, well there’s not doubt in my mind……VC Dave’s gyrating cone. Think about it, there’s its ability to form a vortex and therefore alter the air pressure and what not.
I could go into all the possibly probable science behind it, but let us be honest who needs scientific evidence when you’ve got fact (if it works for religion it can work here).
November 01, 2004
So you don’t like someone but you’ve been guilt tripped into getting them a present for some over commercialised festival/ occasion.
Boy, do I have the solution for you, yes these sparkling vouchers. No longer do you need to take people to the cinema then for drinks, just pop these impersonal and friendship quantifying slips of paper in a card!
Just imagine how hurtful getting these vouchers would be, they say “Hey, you know you should get out more. But hey I sure as eggs don’t want to go with you”
I've been practicing for my life as a dreg on society this week, I’m hoping that this honest approach will shock the pound wielding public to part with their cash.
If this doesn’t go to plan, I shall of course claim to have Ebola or something equally fun like leprosy in an attempt to get create pity.
Alternatively I’ll continue on the job trail.