Sweet Tooth

The first thing you need to know about University is that during Freshers you’re going to make a lot of friends that you’re not going to keep, or even know the name of, after the first week, however this girl (the lollipop) we’ll never forget. Mainly, because we see her everyday walking around as if she owns the place, but mostly because she’s the first person I know to have ever had a sugar mummy, despite her alternating sexual preference.

Now, when I tell you this girl was annoying I don’t mean the sound of nails being dragged down a chalk board. I mean an annoyance such as a fly nestling itself into your ear, forming societies, creating an educational system, filling classrooms THEN them dragging their nails down the chalkboards.
Let me name a few things that she has done, one thing I can say is she’s kept me entertained. Whether it be through her relentless coming over to my flat and pretending that her smoking addiction has gotten out of hand because she was on 3 a day, despite the Homeless Harbourer being on 20. She then continued to claim that quitting only brought on headaches so severe that the possibility of going to a lecture was too much, but turning up to my flat was easy. Thankfully for her, we always had a full fridge of food, something that she took advantage of fully. However, when she’d taken full advantage of us she started to walk past us in the street and regularly turn her head.

Despite choosing to lose my flat as her safe haven, she soon found comfort elsewhere pretty quickly. She started putting up snapchats with an older woman captioning that she was with her “ultimate bae”. Turns out she met her sugar mummy in the toilet of a nightclub, where she proceeded to do cocaine with her, the rest is history. Endless dates, being taken up The Shard in London, cocktails at The Alchemist and enough brunch to last a lifetime, who would say no, right? Clearly not the lollipop. She always did have a sweet tooth (that was really the one good thing that came out of our friendship: her bottomless stash of chocolate). But obviously the cravings of the girl I once used to know, have now changed to something a little more scandalous. She has traded in the trashy lifestyle of tally charting on her arm the number of guys she pulled in one night (12 was her best btw) to sipping on a well-aged mix of pussy, perfume and power.

If there is anything I have taught myself at university, it is that you should knuckle down, create your own opportunities and write your own future. There is no need to rely on a sugar mummy.
Stay classy,

Over and out
xx

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One night of fun or instant regret?

So, this piece is me asking for your advice. Recently, I’ve been considering the process of having a one night stand. Normally, it wouldn’t be something I would consider because of the usual fears: the danger, the fear of the unknown and the fact that I still have my virginity well and truly intact. But after speaking to a lot of my friends at uni, I feel like it’s a process I’ve been missing out on. I hear things like ‘are you even in first year if you haven’t experienced a walk of shame’ and I haven’t.

It sounds like I’m being peer pressured into it, but I’m not. It’s something that sounds fun and interesting; something that appears to make you feel desired from the first moment they see you in the club, to the moment when you end up back at their flat. This is how it’s been explained to me anyway. Don’t get me wrong, I love the thought of sex. I can’t wait to experience the thrill, the feeling of being loved and desired but, for me, a one night stand didn’t automatically have those connotations. I always imagined them to be rushed and sordid in a dingy hotel, having to make excuses to leave the morning after because there was never a time set for a one night stand to end. I always imagined my first time to be something romantic, tender and loving. But that might just be because society has told me that’s what I want. The more I contemplate having a one night stand the more I think it seems liberating but I’m also scared.

Obviously, not all the stories I’ve heard have been great, my best friend from home had a dire experience with whips and chains which put her off for life… until the next one. But there we go I guess, you have some casualties. Let me know what you think, send in your stories and help me make my decision

Over and out

xx

Freshers Threesome

It is exam season, depressing, boring, never-seem-to-not-be-snacking season. I am revising everyday, which means early nights and early mornings, getting up and saying hello to the library and saying goodbye to the clubs. All of this revision has got me thinking about the good times back in September, during Freshers, where we were care free and having a laugh with new friends every day.

Freshers was hilarious, I cannot help but laugh out loud remembering all the stories and memories but there is one story in particular that never ceases to confuse me and I want to share it with you:

The Homeless Harbourer, believe it or not, is actually a hit with the ladies, we found this out very early on when every girl would hit on him in the clubs and try it on with him… and it really didn’t take us very long to notice that he was regularly catching the eye of the other gender too.

One time I came home from a night out to find a crazy looking girl standing outside my flat, with her boyfriend on her arm, begging for me to let them inside. She claimed she needed to ask the Homeless Harbourer a question and insisted they needed to wait in his bedroom. Being the person I am, I really could not be bothered to gift these strangers with my presence any longer so I let them in, without question, to get them out of my hair.
It was a mistake.

Next thing I know the girl and her boyfriend have made themselves at home, under the covers, watching Friends on my flatmate’s laptop. I didn’t know what I couldn’t keep my eyes off more, the girl’s crazy hair that was flared across the pillow she had made her own, or the scene of them playing happy families in my flat.
(I know what you are thinking, I should’ve learned then that no matter what I feel, my flat is clearly open season for anyone)

A few moments later my flatmate came home and was even more confused than me about their presence, it turns out that they had been trying to chat him up all night, the pair of them and were wishing to stay the night with him. Yes, the couple and my flatmate, and I still struggle to this day to find anything remotely normal about the situation. He had to kindly remove them from his bedroom and disappoint them with the fact that he would not be saying yes to their…kind…offer.

The couple didn’t stay a couple for long, as you can imagine, less than 2 months later they were over. It seemed like a good thing at first but it only meant the crazy haired girl came crawling back trying her luck for the 2nd, 3rd and 4th time, each time unfortunately ending just as embarrassingly.

Moral of the story, be as resilient as this girl. Whether you fail or not, at least you know you tried. Maybe i’ll follow this philosophy during my exams.
Wish me luck

Over and out
xx

The Brum Baby

Let me ask you a question. Countrylife, Lurpak, Anchor or “I can’t believe it’s not butter”? If you had to pick one, is there a difference?
Now, I know for some people it is crazy to think people could have a favourite, yet I also know there are people out there who only eat/use certain brands of things… but, in all honesty, can one really afford to be that picky when they are a student? Can a young guy at university really demand a particular brand of butter? More importantly, is he justified to be ungrateful for what he is given if he is requesting food, which isn’t his own, from a flat, which isn’t his own, a flat that owes nothing to him? I think not.

Meet the Brum Baby.

The homeless harbourer’s best mate is a 20 year old guy, a guy who is from Birmingham originally. Let me make this clear, he is from Birmingham, yes that means his family lives about 10 minutes away from our accommodation and are literally a simple phone call away from helping him or providing him with anything he needs. Including butter.
About 2 weeks ago the Brum Baby came knocking at our flat door, at 1am, demanding us to let him use our butter, not just any butter, he made it perfectly clear that he would not take anything less than Countrylife, the cheek. But we are used to it, we are used to seeing his painfully empty Tesco shop arriving every week, which is only full of Maoam sweets, biscuits, a pile of garlic breads and pizza bases. We are used to his endless moaning regarding the fact that he has to write the odd essay here and there. We are used to his childish games of trying to persuade his temporary parent (our flatmate) to have a “takeaway party” every night. And we are used to him crying and being extra paranoid whenever he thinks someone is giving him a dirty look, which probably means they are simply looking his way.

It is sad to be honest, to see a grown boy struggle so much with the simple things and be so totally dependent on anybody and everybody… no wonder why he didn’t move away from home, but personally, if I could give one piece of advice, if you think that you, yourself, are that kind of person, please move away from home…as far as possible.

Watching the Brum Baby has taught me to embrace university life as much as possible, to become independent, grow up and learn life lessons that I never would have any other way or anywhere else.

20 years old. 1st year at University. What did he really expect exactly?
You can’t be knocking on flat doors begging random girls to sew on buttons on your shirts so you can sell them on depop… take this opportunity to learn not to be such a mummy’s boy/girl.

Move away. Have Fun. Don’t look back. Life begins at the end of your comfort zone.

Over and Out
xx

Beauty and the Geek

Dear uni girls,

What is it about us and always favouring the hot bad ass over the quieter and less-likely-to-screw-you-over kind of guy. Since we were little girls we have been plagued with cute Disney films like Beauty and the Beast, where we’re told to look past the exterior and actually get to know a guy before passing judgement. However, this rarely happens. In reality, girls ignore this and cant see past trying to find their, totally unrealistic, perfect, Prince Charming.

Proof of this is my other flatmate. Never been kissed and yet you’ll never meet a nicer guy, he’s the kind of guy that’s all limbs and heart. Tall, gangly but sweet is how you’d describe him and yet because of us overlooking the nice guy, he could go by without a second glance. Meanwhile, us girls are left broken hearted because of the guy we’ve been warned about 100 times. When my flatmate, and I’m sure many more guys just like him, are right there, in plain sight, waiting to give girls the love they want and need.

A word of advice, next time a guy you’d normally call a loser comes by, give him a chance, get to know him and you might just get to like him. I promise, sometimes what you think you want, is not necessary what is best for you.

Over and out

xx

Harbouring the homeless

Okay, so my university experience has been so abnormal since the second I started in September. It has been everything but what I expected, such crazy, yet amazing, things happen every day so it has come to the point where I feel it is just necessary to write everything down.

The strangest thing to have happened recently was last week when my flatmate brought some homeless men back to the flat after a night out. Full disclosure, he now refers to them as the ‘lads’. So anyway, the ‘lads’ came back with him, yes to our university accommodation, after an invitation to stay the night- an offer they simply could not refuse! After our flatmate saw our confused faces through the window, he barged into the kitchen, told us all to fuck off, making it very clear that he’d do whatever the hell he wanted; in fairness, he felt instantly remorseful and started apologising. They, the ‘lads’, stayed of course, helping themselves to a warm shower in the morning, good for them. I suppose, our flatmate was doing a good thing, right? You’d think. Although he gave them a roof over their heads and although he gave them money, £100 to be exact, he also gave these guys a shit ton of weed. So, it’s kind of hard for me to see how he aided them? Except from the fact that he probably moved them from alcoholics, which they had confessed to being, into druggies. As well as that, he moved them off one floor and just put them on another, but as long as he feels good about himself I guess? You win some you lose some.

The weirdest thing is, I kind of got it. Not at first, not when I had to sleep with one eye open, scared about the strangers in my flat. I mean, when he brought them back my first thought was obviously to take my ‘Slanket’ to my room… considering I’m a student that was the most valuable thing I owned, don’t judge!! But I did eventually get it, we went out a few days later and I saw this toilet attendant in the club, that i’d spoken to a few times, I literally wanted to give her everything I owned, I wanted to help her in any way I could. So, I got it, I too would’ve given her my whole degree! I must say though, it doesn’t make it any stranger that he thought bringing his ‘lads’ back to a flat, a flat he doesn’t own, was acceptable. Fingers crossed we won’t be having any unexpected guests over soon… but I promise, if we do, you will be the first to find out!

Over and out

xx