Another Saturday comes around, and after a Friday of heavy drinking and light sleeping, a group delusional second years have decided to have a ‘detox’ by devouring some blocks of stinky fat, and drinking (you guessed it) more alcohol.
Little did they know, their attempt at a classy evening would descend into the inevitable: a bag of class Bs and an incredibly average techno night at the cultural hub of Call lane: Wire.
The morning after the night before, The Whip caught up with the appropriately named Betty Bottler to find out exactly what went wrong.
“It started off as an innocent idea to have a nice wholesome evening in and sort ourselves out from the night before. I think the first mistake we made was buying eight bottles of red wine and only one pack of cheese strings for the 4 of us. I think we may have got our proportions wrong.
“Next thing you know we were twatted and on our way to wire. I had no idea you could get that pissed off red wine – it’s the kind of thing that my parents and Italian children drink, isn’t it?
“Anyway, surprise surprise it was shit again and after 2 hours of chain smoking in the bus shelter around the corner we decided to call it a night. Well I did anyway. Ben here decided it would be a good idea to stay up all night again.”
The Whip also managed to get a few words out of Ben Goose, the slumped ketty mess on the sofa, about how he thought the night went;
“Did you ever have a dream where you could, and and you did, and you would have – could done – where you were when you… and you could’ve done anything?”
The Whip is now accepting applications for interpreters.