today i started drnking at 12 o'clock; kronenburg, guinness, corona. fuck.
i got kicked out of a medieval tutorial by my rather vapid medieval/old english professor, carol. she rather politely asked me if i wanted to come back in an hour (it was a loaded question; it was a polite way of saying ' you turned up 15 minutes late, you're fucked, come back when you're sober before i report you). i didnt go back. instead i went to the nearby pub and continued to drink another 2-3 pints. today i blew £100 buying drinks for all. it's barely 7pm. im drunk. i stillm have a bottle of vintage wine and a crate of australian fosters to get through. and a controversial party that i will be dressing as a nazi for- controversialism being hte theme, of course.
im still waiting for my email summoning me for an explation of my absconding behaviour / alcoholism. i drink too much. im pissing away the best eduycation in the world on alcohol and drugs. i dont blame myself;' i blame the beatniks. jack kerouac made me this way. fuck me.
fuck you
yes
i love you all.
i love ridiculing you all.
i love life.
academia and qualificatuions dont mean shit, they're a method of quantifying the unquantifiable. ive ultimately enjoyed the time spent with pals and time spent in the company of naked women ultimately more than the time spent studying literature- and that's saying something- i love literature and books. but life is for living, remember that. there is no moral to this story in all actuality, im mjust a drunkard trying to justify my wayward ways. they say the stereotype of rich young toffs developing drug addictions/dependencies at oxford/cambridge is a commonly held one. im workng my hardest to fulfill that type. encourage me. dead by 40. like all the best.
you heard.
love.
uzique.
i got kicked out of a medieval tutorial by my rather vapid medieval/old english professor, carol. she rather politely asked me if i wanted to come back in an hour (it was a loaded question; it was a polite way of saying ' you turned up 15 minutes late, you're fucked, come back when you're sober before i report you). i didnt go back. instead i went to the nearby pub and continued to drink another 2-3 pints. today i blew £100 buying drinks for all. it's barely 7pm. im drunk. i stillm have a bottle of vintage wine and a crate of australian fosters to get through. and a controversial party that i will be dressing as a nazi for- controversialism being hte theme, of course.
im still waiting for my email summoning me for an explation of my absconding behaviour / alcoholism. i drink too much. im pissing away the best eduycation in the world on alcohol and drugs. i dont blame myself;' i blame the beatniks. jack kerouac made me this way. fuck me.
fuck you
yes
i love you all.
i love ridiculing you all.
i love life.
academia and qualificatuions dont mean shit, they're a method of quantifying the unquantifiable. ive ultimately enjoyed the time spent with pals and time spent in the company of naked women ultimately more than the time spent studying literature- and that's saying something- i love literature and books. but life is for living, remember that. there is no moral to this story in all actuality, im mjust a drunkard trying to justify my wayward ways. they say the stereotype of rich young toffs developing drug addictions/dependencies at oxford/cambridge is a commonly held one. im workng my hardest to fulfill that type. encourage me. dead by 40. like all the best.
you heard.
love.
uzique.
libertarian benefit collector - anti-academic super-intellectual. http://mixlr.com/the-little-phrase/
