Well, I guess I’m just a sucker for a ‘good deal’. It was another Bar Footsie night in the Union tonight, where most of the drinks’ prices are projected onto a convienient wall, and vary through the night, flucuating and crashing as if it were a real stockmarket (funnily enough, there was no inexorable slide towards a sensible price/earnings ratio, but now I’m just being a smartarse). Once again Dave Parry (our Union Finance Manager) was fascinated by the price fluctuations, since it gives him ‘good ideas’ as to what drinks are underpriced in the Union. Needless to say, the price of Lowenbrau is unlikely to rise, but I digress.

As an aside, you’ve really no idea how hard this is to type.

So I decided that, based on last term’s experience, I’ll have a nice sober evening. Although I’m generally fairly good at getting served, I struggle during the crashes, and am too tempted by just buying expensive beer due to cronic impatience. So all was going well, until the point that I won (ably abeited by Mona) the paper aeroplane competition - with a helicopter. You’ve no idea how much that makes me chuckle. Nevertheless, all of a sudden there were lots of things that seems a ‘good deal’, since I could get served whenever I felt like it - courtesy of The Hat. And the idea of having a vaguely sober night (since I got pissed on Tuesday {hi Ginny, hi DramSoc}, and on Wednesday {hi Gardeners}, and am planning on getting pissed Friday and Saturday {hi Dan and hi Nia respectively}) went straight out the window.

As an aside, I think I’ve used the delete key twice for every character typed here.

So now I’m trying to waste away the forty five minutes between the number 49 bus finishing and the N207 starting, by typing this in the DramSoc storeroom. Which doubles as my own personal cloakroom when I feel the need (and when I have the keys to the building). Sad really, if you think about it. I try not to.