Emergency last minute drunken blog post

Woah, It’s 23:39, I’ve just watched two more episodes of the brilliant Wire and I’ve consumed more than half a bottle of rather good Wolf Blass Shiraz Grenache, but it just occurred to me that I haven’t posted yet today. So instead of stumbling off to the land of nod, here I am. How’s that for commitment, hm? Hm?

There seems to be some sort of party going on in the communal kitchen next to our flat, which is LITERALLY almost unprecedented here at Wolfson College, which isn’t exactly renowned for wild late-night hi-jinks, let me tell you (although it is – apparently – the most cosmopolitan college in Cambridge, which is something at least). Hang on, I’ve just checked the Wolfson website and it also claims, rather boldly, to be among the most lively and agreeable of Cambridge colleges. Hm. Well, it’s certainly agreeable, no argument there, but lively? Tish and fipsy! It’s much closer to a trappist monastery than a weimar era burlesque speakeasy, let’s just say. Why, just last night I heard someone outside loudly promising that yes, they would certainly be quiet in just a few minutes, this at around 11pm on a Friday night. That’s about as exciting as it gets round here, let me tell you.

Good lord, I’ve got less than nine minutes to post this in order to maintain my post-a-day-for-the-whole-of-November trajectory, so I’d best curtail the half-cut blathering and hit the publish button some time real soon. I do promise, dear reader, that the quality of posts will improve as the month progresses, rather than asymptotically tending towards zero (quality). I’m  sure if you stick around you will be wowed by my boundless imagination, striking wit and devastatingly cogent insights into a variety of matters of no little import. But now I must ascend the (figurative) wooden hill to Bedfordshire and dream sweet, drunken dreams of all my teeth falling out. Bon nuit!

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