Bristol UK

Highly infectious strain of cabin fever sweeping the nation

Corona Virus, Acute Respiratory Syndrome of the hour and five-time Grammy Award winner, has reportedly given birth to a baby strain of cabin fever in her Surrey home last week.  The fever weighed roughly 7 ounces and has since become a significant breeder of content on social media.

Apparently Little Cabin has been wreaking havoc throughout the world, heightening tensions between university house shares and genetic house shares alike. The Whip decided to go Skype-to-Skype to understand the fever’s global effect, and to inspect everyone’s interiors.

We spoke to a neighbour, Belinda Belend, about young Cabin. “Yeah it’s just not like… acceptable? I dunno, I’m getting quite sick of it to be honest. I am running out of room’s to run out of. I am running into problems with my mother. You know what I’m not doing?”

Our reporters managed to reach out to renowned clinical psychologist Dr Ramira for an interview, while she was taking a well-earned break on Houseparty.

“This is indeed an unprecedented situation for the family unit, and interpersonal relations generally. Never before has the paradox of passive aggression become more apparent; something I’ve noticed through extensive research as well as at home with my Ramirascals.”

Cabin Fever’s misbehaviour appears to mimic fevers from forgotten eras. Luckily we managed to contact Old Willy, a local Surrey resident and retired pirate of the seven seas, to get his take on the matter. “Just what happens isn’t it. When you’re out there too long. The land’s mistress is the sea, the sky is his wife.”

Click here for Willy’s super tasty three ingredient Lentil soup recipe.


Dominic Cummings to lengthen puppet strings to 2m to enforce social distancing

Following reports that Boris Johnson has tested positive for coronavirus, many are wondering how the daily operations of government will change. While Boris’ virility means that he isn’t short of family members to support him in these difficult times, the question remains as to what this means for puppet master extraordinaire and perturbed baby owl lookalike, Chief Adviser Dominic Cummings.

Although never seen far from the Prime Minister, the ongoing global coronavirus pandemic means that this Machiavellian Mister Geppetto will now need to maintain the necessary two metres from Mr Johnson in order to adhere to social distancing.

But what exactly will change for Mr Cummings? Well, on a day-to-day basis, that whisper in the Prime Minister’s ear will probably need to become a ‘quiet conversational tone directed towards the general proximity of his ear’, which, in addition to not quite having the same ring to it, means the other people in the room will now have to endure listening to whatever crackpot idea Cummings thinks of next.

Social distancing will inevitably be difficult for a man who has a tendency to go back on his own word – after calling for Whitehall to be staffed by greater numbers of ‘weirdos and misfits’ who weren’t educated at Oxbridge, who should Cummings choose but a eugenics-advocating Cambridge graduate. Well at least Mr Cummings got half of what he asked for.

With the COVID-19 situation expected to go on for months, Dominic had better get started on lengthening those puppet strings…

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Prince Andrew says he could not have given Charles coronavirus as he was ‘enjoying a take-away from Pizza Express Woking’

In a startling turn of events Prince Charles has been the latest victim of Covid-19’s militant war on humanity’s airways.

Yet the question remains as to how the Prince of Wales caught the virus. That well-known rag the Daily Mail have pointed the finger at Meghan Markle, suggesting she served her father-in-law bat casserole in the Buckingham Palace dining room in a plea to infect him and obliterate the royal family from the inside, one cough at a time. However, this claim has subsequently been debunked, as it was found she had been with her husband, Harry, giving him reading lessons from Roald Dahl’s The BFG.

Prince Andrew was also quick to leap to his own defence, stating that he couldn’t possibly be the person responsible as he had spent the past two days having, as he puts it ‘a non-stop pizza-athon lock-in’ with take-away food from Pizza Express Woking. While as difficult to believe as his claim that his photo with Virginia Roberts Giuffre was fake, Randy Andy’s alibi was widely accepted and the Commissioner of Police of the Metropolis believed the prince, adding that she believed Andrew’s alibi to be “As watertight as a Falklands veteran’s skin.” Who was responsible for infecting Charles? Perhaps we may never know. But The Whip wishes him a swift recovery and recommend, to ease his dry cough he gets in plenty of Throne & Chest Lozenges.

Bristol UK

Lonely lecturer gives student mark of 69 and a winky face

With the arrival of dreary mid-term assessments comes the ever-nerve-wracking anticipation of the release of marks, this combined with the looming prospect of upcoming self-isolation leads to times devoid of cheekiness and cheer. In these times of gloom, it is easy to forget the true heroes of today: uncomfortably lonely creepy lecturers who keep you on your toes during seminars.

In an exclusive for The Whip, we spoke to Marv Moore, a lecturer who recently gave one of his female students a mark of 69 and a winky face. In the feedback rubric, the student was told she narrowly missed a first because whilst one perspective in the essay reached a satisfying climax, the other one was awkwardly dragged on with no resolute finish. In spite of this, she was commended for ‘Generously paying attention to both sides of the argument.’

We caught up with Marv outside the front of the Priory Road Complex after his lecture, where he frequently borrows students’ lighters, smokes Marlboro Lights and awkwardly hovers around their conversations. He told our correspondent that ‘I probably could have given the essay a higher mark, but I was feeling a little cheeky and decided to give her the goddam sex number. In circumstances like these, a serious breach of academic integrity is a small price to let her know you’re into her. I wish I could have seen the look on her face!’

However, as the essay was on the ruthless genocide of a quarter of the Cambodian population in the 80s, the lecturer was unsurprisingly subject to disciplinary action for his saucy and sordid serenading.

We are yet to confirm whether the student warmed to his half-hearted advancements, however, perhaps it is safe to assume that this student took a long, cold shower after opening the ‘My Grades’ section of Blackboard, vowing to never attend the seminar again.

Bristol UK

Absolute legend panic-buys 100 condoms, reckons he’ll need more next week

As shelves around the Whiteladies Road area become vacant of toilet roll, fusilli and Rizla, rumours are emerging that a first-year Hiatt Baker dweller has taken a novel new approach to ‘stock-piling’.

Friends of first year Geographer Miles Bentley are referring to him as the ‘cock-piler in chief’ in response to recent antics. The new nickname arrived after he was witnessed by staff at Sainsbury’s on Queens Road hurriedly gathering up all the Durex Ultra Thin Feels he could get his hands on.

Sainsbury’s store manager Bert Smith gave The Whip his exclusive thoughts…

‘After our shift finished on Friday night, I got all the staff to gather round the screens in the backroom to view this entertaining CCTV footage. At first we noticed him mopping his brow, not due to COVID-19, but actually due to his stress surrounding the situation!’

‘Firstly, he had one of our baskets – empty – and was prowling the toiletries aisle, having quickly scanned the covers of the gossip mags a few metres away. Then, he deployed a unique scooping action to gather as many Durex boxes as he could.’

After he agreed to speak to The Whip, we were keen to press Bentley on his thoughts on social distancing. He told us, ‘Mate, honestly, forget social distancing. Coronavirus or no coronavirus, you think any girl can resist me and my massive dong? After all, I’m a Bentley – a top of the range, finely-tuned machine. Who am I to deny her a ride?’

Next, Miles told us he’d be taking a trip to Ann Summers, with the hope of purchasing their famous penis-shaped pasta. Bentley said this is to protect him in the event of normal shops running out of pasta, and to turn self-isolation into what he termed a ‘coronavirus cock-fest’ – legend.

The Whip asked The Student Health Centre if they had any advice or guidance for students looking to ‘self-isolate and chill’. They told us: ‘What? No, absolutely not. That defeats the entire point of self-isolation.’ Food for thought indeed.


Opinion | I don’t want to come to your play

Dear friend who does performing arts,

I’ll never forget the day we first met. The first rollie we smoked together outside our English lecture. You were wearing all black and strikingly self-important, but I just assumed you were a Londoner on the way to a funeral. ‘Ignorance is bliss’ – Skepta.

When your name popped up on my Facebook requests I accepted with excitement. It was no more than 20 seconds later that the event invites started rolling in, 2, 6, 18. The notifications pinged more than I did in first year.

First it was Barrel Boy, the inspirational tale of a boy born with a barrel for a penis that was somehow supposed to be a metaphor for classism. I paid fourteen whole pounds to attend Zip It: The Silent Musical in the Winston theatre, 8 for an all-male remake of The Golden Girls and an ‘immersive’ international women’s day show which inexplicably featured the same cast.

When 127 Hours: The Panto was as long as I was scared it would be I knew something had to change. I’ve said ‘yes, and…’ to 13 different improv jams in strangers’ basements but now it’s time to say no.

I love you, but I don’t want to come to your play.

Bristol UK

Did They Know? Engineers Have Been Self-Isolating for Years

With Coronavirus sweeping the globe at an unprecedented rate, you’d be forgiven for thinking that no one would have the foresight to self-isolate before the outbreak reached its peak.

However, our STEM correspondent was shocked to discover that an entire colony of engineers have been perfecting their self-isolation techniques since their arrival at university.

An anonymous 3rd year Mechanical Engineering student agreed to reveal his trade secrets to The Whip, under the conditions that the interview be conducted via his letterbox, and that he was provided with “one of those wicked voice muffler things” to protect his identity.

“We’ve always been one step ahead”, the student in question told us. “It’s just the premium way to live, none of those pesky things like friends or socialising to get in the way of my Python projects or Fortnite campaigns. Guess you could say that Coronavirus protection is just one of many lifestyle perks you get from still relying on your Mum to send you food in the post.”

Despite the seemingly luxurious lifestyle of the nifty engineer, health experts have warned that their avoidance of Coronavirus definitely doesn’t compensate for a diet of Flame Grilled McCoys, acute Vitamin D deficiency from not going outside for two years straight, or a wardrobe filled with 2010 Hollister hoodies.

Bristol Featured UK

Hypochondriac much? Harvey Weinstein to self-isolate for 23 years

Following yesterday’s declaration of COVID-19 as a global pandemic, reports have emerged of several drastic cases of self-isolation. One such case is that of the disgraced Hollywood producer and all round piece of shit, Harvey Weinstein.

Several news outlets confirmed that the man who looks like the bit of skin on your elbow that goes all saggy and gross when you extend your arm (what’s that called?) will be self-isolating in a jail cell for at least 23 years. It is possible that this is in response to a justified fear of karmic retribution exacting itself on the twat.

Either way, Weinstein will not be participating in society for quite some time, which is possibly the best piece of news of the last week. He could not be reached for a statement, so The Whip thought we’d take this opportunity to list other people we would like to self-isolate:

Jeff Bezos, Dominic Cummings, any murderers or people with an urge to harm others, the ticket inspector who didn’t accept a picture of my railcard and my ID as valid proof of the fact that I had a railcard and I just forgot it, and all hate groups.


Disaster as library eye-fucking leaves student half-blind

Low commitment, acceptable in public and a significantly reduced risk of pregnancy, eye-fucking has become popularised in recent years as a safer alternative to regular fucking.

However, much like with vaping, asbestos and communism, we are realising all too late just how worried we should have been. The Whip interviewed Tess Coates, frequenter of the ASS library and casualty of the phenomenon.

“It was 2am, some people were packing up, some people were weeping uncontrollably onto their keyboards and then packing up. I’d scheduled my daily cry for a few hours before, so I was all good, but my essay was getting tedious and I was looking for a distraction.”

It was then that Tess saw him across the room. He wanted to remain anonymous, but I want doesn’t get so we said no, his name is James. “We locked eyes and there was an instant connection, I felt alive” Tess continued.

“That’s when it all went wrong. I’d never eye fucked before but when James jabbed his penis into my eye I got the feeling we’d made a wrong turn”.

“Erotic as it was, I immediately lost vision in my left eye and never regained it. My contact lens is still missing…”

Tess has been unable to return to the ASS since the incident, scared of compromising her one remaining functioning eye. The Whip send our condolences to her and anyone standing to her left at this difficult time.

Bristol Featured

‘Help a girl out’: Hungover fresher posts on Clifton and Stoke Bishop Tickets after losing U-Card, phone and left kidney on night out

We’ve all been there: one minute you’re in Lola’s, dancing the night away with gay abandon, and the next, you’re awake in a bathtub full of ice with a suspicious scar on your lower abdomen; silly sausage! Foolish first year Luce Keys launched a plea to the Clifton and Stoke Bishop Tickets community after finding herself in this very scenario last Tuesday evening.

Our Stoke Bishop correspondent interviewed the undergraduate, to find out how such a calamity could befall an innocent fresher.

“Literally don’t know where any of my shit’s gone,” Keys reflected, looking forlornly into her double espresso, “I was so trollied last night that my wallet could be anywhere between Hiatt Baker and Cabot – it’s anybody’s guess.”

“I remember talking to some blokes, something about harvesters and triads, guess I just assumed they were a musical bunch who really dug a carvery, and who can blame them! I felt fully mugged off in the morning when I found out they’d nabbed my kidney, how am I going to get lashed now? Or is that the liver? Either way, it would be nice if they gave it back once they’ve finished with it.”

Luckily, a well worded plea to the Clifton and Stoke Bishop Tickets community sorted everything out in no time. Not only did some unnamed hero find her wallet and phone in the Lola’s ladies toilets, but also revealed that her kidney had been found for sale in a Cambodian underground market for 50,000 US Dollars (cash only).

Fortunately, it only took a quick Facebook direct message and an Interpol-backed armed police raid to ensure that all belongings were returned safely to their recipient.


‘Choke me daddy’: girl asphyxiating on bone-dry Source Cafe sandwich discovers she kind of likes it

The following piece is an excerpt from The Whip’s ‘new writing’ scheme, capturing glimpses of everyday life on campus.


Lights up. Source Cafe, Hawthorns. Students are going about their day to day lives, exchanging emotions, secrets. Friendships are being evolved, renewed; Coursework put to one side, for the assigned reading of the Now.

From the two oak wooden glass doors enters Daniella. She sports a leather jacket and a polyester grin- cheap, synthetic, and highly practical.

She walks in, surveying the crowd, avoiding the eyes of the gentlemen in Champion.

‘Hi, can I help you?’

The words sound like wind-chimes, they startle Daniella from her daze. She approaches the till, purchases a small beverage and a Coronation Chickpea without mayonnaise. It occurs to her that life is without mayonnaise nowadays.

‘Did you see Legally Blonde’

‘Yeah it was magical’

The crowd moves on, time to sit, to think. Daniella does so, recalling how once her French teacher told her ‘Asseyez vous’ for the final time.

She finds a seat by the window overlooking the construction of the new Library. The sounds and aromas of the Source cafe wash over her.

‘If we’re going Prague I’d rather not dick about. Let’s do the whole 3 nights.’

‘No I didn’t sleep with him, we just played together on his Switch’

She takes a swig of her macchiato and looks down at her sandwich as if she has never seen it before. With all the energy of an eccentric lecturer mid flow she bites down on the bread, the dryness, the absolute lack of texture, of flavour giving her a euphoric, highly sexual pleasure.

‘Choke me daddy’ she whispers, recalling Foucault’s discussion about how food is sex, how absolute freedom is absolute control. She drops the bread, falls to the floor in fateful ecstasy. Ah, but to die, to live.

Bristol UK

Rehearsing for Stomp and 5 other things your upstairs neighbours are probably doing

We live in a world where you either face the gruelling climb all the way to the top or suffer at the hands of those above you. Whether it’s the pesky bourgeoisie or just your upstairs neighbours, the question on everyone’s mind is ‘just what the hell is going on up there?’. The Whip found some of the loudest people on campus and, despite the noise, tried our best to have a conversation with them. Here’s what they were doing:

1. Rehearsing for Stomp

Crash. Bang. TSHHHHH. All sounds you might be familiar with if you live below cult percussion group Stomp. Living near these guys is basically the audio equivalent of renting with Digs.


2. Appearing on DIY SOS



3. Crying

If you hear regular crying and basically no other noise, you probably live below a third year. They save money on make-up wipes by simply just crying the mascara away. Good for the environment, bad for your ears.


4. Running an elephant sanctuary

All 6 flatmates returned home from their ‘life-changing’ summer building houses in Africa with a stolen elephant. What you can hear above you is the distinctive hum of the white saviour complex… also elephants.


5. Shaggin’

You’re forced to listen to their sex playlist far more times than you’ve listened to yours and quite frankly you’re sad about it. You still fist bump them through the ceiling though, to show them you’re not (that) bitter.


6. “Yeah mate I DJ”

From Raggatek to Fidget House, every new genre they experiment with is somehow worse than the last. You can’t understand why people call the Hawthorns loud… it’s so quiet in there!