Warning: hilariously British bad language: do not read if easily offended

Got this email from the fencing women's captain today.

"Subject: A few important sport team chants - MUST learn for BUCS, and it's still fun for everyone else to know

Roughly to tune of "She'll be coming round the mountain":

Is it me or isn't rugby gay?
Is it me or isn't rugby gay?
When you're underneath a pile of men,
Who take it up the arse again,
Oh is it me or isn't rugby gay!

You can shove your f*cking ball up your arse,
You can shove your f*cking ball up your arse,
You can shove your f*cking ball,
Shove your f*cking ball,
You can shove your f*cking ball up your arse!

If you played a real Uni,
Clap your hands!
If you played a real Uni clap your hands! (etc)


You've prob heard the guys sing these:

If I had the wings of a Sparrow,
If I had the arse of a Crow,
I'd fly over ....... tomorrow,
and shit on the bastards below!
Shit on,
Shit on,
Shit on the bastards below!

I'm Bangor til I die,
I'm Bangor til I die,
I know I am,
I'm sure I am,
I'm Bangor til I die!


This one is to the tune of "Frere Jacka" (or however you say that):

Men are slackers,
Men are slackers.
That means you,
That means you.
You need to be tougher and meaner,
We're better and we're leaner.
Utter mongs,
Utter mongs."

Ah yes, welcome to the rarified world of university-level fencing... I can tell already that I will be learning a thing or two.

weird analogy

I sometimes feel like my life is a wave. I'm not really living it, just sort of riding it. Most of the time I can more or less keep on top of it, and sometimes it all comes crashing down on my head. And then there are weeks like this, where I feel like I'm surfing the very edge of it and barely holding on - scary, but also exhilerating. One false move and I'm in big trouble, but look how high up I am!

Specifically, my thesis is due in a few weeks, I have a giant scanning project that is supposed to go next week for which I don't really have participants lined up, and I just spoke to my future PhD supervisor about applying for an NSERC grant (which not only requires filling out a huge form and writing a research proposal, but will also be the first he sees of my writing - so it's gotta be good).

As well, I just got back from a weekend in Inveraray at a festival, and before that it was Liverpool for the weekend. I also am going to try to get to Oxford for a birthday party in September and want to make it down to London in October as my aunt Judith will be visiting. This is the stuff that makes life worth living - but it's hard to cram it all in around thesis and the work and all my other projects.

However, I can certainly not say that I am bored.

Full reports (with pictures, maybe) on Liverpool and the Connect festival when I am not in quite so perilous a position on the wave...

ps. Just to make things more entertaining, I just got a new housemate (verdict so far: lovely). I got home from 10 hours travel back from Scotland and he made me dinner, so I went to grab a drink from the tap. That was when I saw that he had helpfully left a note above the sink, warning me that Bangor's infected with cryptosporidium. We're on a boil-water advisory for the moment. Good times! ... but suddenly extremely happy I have a housemate to warn me of these things, as otherwise I'd probably be racked with horrible diarrhea by now.