Sinister: being sober, political, and is the Queen a poo?

Kristin Mitchell idleberry at xxx.com
Thu Sep 28 13:45:14 BST 2000


Settling back into life at uni, meeting up with old
friends, making new ones.

I managed to also aqquire some very old copies of a
series of books, called Kristin Lavransdatter, for my
mum. From what I gather, she was a famous Viking
girlie, who shares my first name.

My mum loved these books when she was at school, back
in Norway, so I think she will like to have these
copies. They are old, about 1921, and hardback as
well, and although looking a bit worse for wear and a
bit smelly, but I am glad I grabbed them.

So far everything is going alright in my new flat.
But we have a new rule, do not discuss politics.
Purely for the reason that I am living with a paid up
member of the Tory party, who actively goes to all the
tory things at uni.

Grr. So we had a long debate and arguement about
everything, from the united Kingdom union, to ooh, why
Scots don't have a tory in power.

Plus he also made some ridiculous comments that I
should not refer to myself as Scottish while I am
here, but as British.

Well, I am Scottish. I am British in the wider sense,
as I am also European. But first and foremost, I am
Scottish. Its taken me 18 years to work that one out,
what with dad being English and mum being Norwegian,
and when I was a little sprog at primary school, I
loathed days when there had been an England/Scotland,
or Norwegian/Scotland footie match the day before.
And I don't like football.

So now I am in England, I worked out I am truely
Scottish, maybe not by blood or anything, but by
birth, by education, and also attitude.

So the arguements were flying on Monday night. But he
was drunk, and being male, also certain that anything
he said was right, true, and 100% correct. Men do this
when they are drunk. They believe that the only right
opinion is their own, and that everyone else is wrong.
I'm not being sexist, but the male species has that
quality.  

We also discussed the Monarchy, and I managed to wind
him up successfully by calling the Queen a big poo.
I said she reminded me of a dried up old poo.
And he got all worked up, and said "The Queens not a
poo!" and so on and so forth. But to avoid more
serious arguements, we have agreed to disagree, plus
never to discuss politics or the Queen being a big
poo.

As long as we stay away from discussions about
homosexuality then everything should be okay. And
drunk driving. Those are two things that I feel
strongly about. And I get the impression his ideas
conflict with mine quite a lot there.

Decided to celebrate my 22nd birthday at the flat, and
have a party. 

Nothing else to report.
Except I can't get into chat rooms anymore, including
sinister chat, jeepster chat and corduroy smoke chat.
Grr.

Anyone know any other university friendly chat rooms
for a B+S girliefan?

Love,
Idles.




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