Hello darlings

  Having spent a good part of yesterday recovering from the Oxford meetup, I
feel inspired to give you all a blow-by-blow (missus) account of the whole
sordid proceedings.
  
2:00pm  Various sinisterites and assorted appendages gather sheepishly outside
massively cool clothing shop in large sparse yuppiefied square.  No-one talks
outside the people they came with, other than to note that the falafel shop also
sells international phonecards.  We head for the first of many pubs.

2:30pm  The pub (Furkin disgraceful) is full of large-screen football fools, 
so we sit outside in the rain drinking beer/cider/GIN etc. and eating Pringles.  Mmmmmm, new Paprika flavour.  One thing we DEFINITELY don't drink is il biondino's hideous Tigermilk concoction.  Ewwww.  Twee accoutrements such as newly-purchased Miffy backpack (Alix) and Hello Kitty wallet (Cassie) are admired by all.  Well, by me, anyway.  Oh, and people are talking to each other
now.

3:30pm  The rain is starting to piss people off, so we decide to find a pub
with no telly and no students who've just finished their bastard finals and thus
feel the need to fuck everyone off with their *hilarious japes*.  I mean, I'm in
the middle of sodding exams, but do _I_ go punting paralytically pissed and fall in the river noisily while yodelling ancient Andean folk tunes?  Well,
yes I do, but in a very ladylike and refined way...  

4:30pm  After traipsing round town in a fairly aimless fashion and running away
from various full/footbally pubs with our girly hands flapping, we settle 
down in the cafe section of a pizza restaurant, after turfing a couple of
lovely ladies off the most desirable sofa in the place.  Gosh, we are so rude.  Nice wicker armchairs, padrone.  And proceed to drink wine and get cornered by scary Dan and his manic twitch.  Several people leave.

5:30pm  We return to the Furkin abomination in order to a) drink some more b)
get out of the rain and c) to collect my bike, which I foolishly left propped
against a wall earlier.  Fergit t'turn up fer me own fyooneral, I wud.  More 
drink is drunk.  As are we.  We finally finish the Pringles.  Kevan leaves to
go home, the wuss ;P.  Scary Dan has also bailed out by this time, in order to
see an appropriately scary German play.   

7:00pm  We womble around town for a bit buying wine and riding my bike (in turns, not all together, as the latter excercise would require rather more
co-ordination than any of us possessed at the time.  Or indeed at any time you
care to mention).  Boy on a bike, what _are_ you like?  

8:00pm  An Indian restaurant is found (suggested by !ENTHUSIASTIC! Pam) and
invaded en masse.  We are joined by a couple of Pam's friends, who look quite
scared, as well they might.  We threaten them with forced induction into our
cult.  Curry, pappadums and naan are eaten.  Oh yes.

9:30pm  We waddle towards St. Anne's College and invade the bar.  I drink a can
of bitter that someone has left in front of me.  Well, you've got to take what
you can get, eh?  Miss Vicky stunningly pots the black to win a fiercely 
contended game of pool.  She is God.  Table football is also played, but the 
least said about that the better.  Right, Casarrotto?

11:00pm  We adjourn to the Room of Doom, where Pam is a charming hostess and
offers us more wine, and the Wagon Wheels I've been carrying round all day are
consumed. We warble along more-or-less charmingly to a variety of B&S choons
played on the dinky record player, and mourn the lack of recorders and guitars in the vicinity.  Pam's friends shie away in terror.

1:30am  A trip to Ali's kebab van is made.  Ah, the wonders of chips'n'cheese
served by an Asian man (with, presumably, a love-hate affair with his student
clientele).  Oooh, I can just feel me cholesterol levels rising.  Matron.  Mark, Vicky and Alix head off to get a taxi back to Alix's place.  I return to
St. Anne's to get on my bike and ride home.  Lights, who needs lights?  
Surprisingly, I don't even _nearly_ die on the perilous journey home, despite
being rather incompetent due to chemical alteration (dunno what they put in 
Wagon Wheels these days).  

2:00am  I reach St. Hilda's more or less safely and go to bed.  For a long long time.


  So that was wot we did on our holidays, miss.  Hopefully you're not too bored.  If you are, bloody sod yer then.

    
So, farewell then.  Until the next time I'm trying to put off doing my Anatomy
revision...


   Love,
     Liz :x


P.S. I still don't think I look like Miranda Richardson
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