tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-72372968075413511952024-02-06T19:32:21.527-08:00A SUMMER OF TEENAGE DEBAUCHERYhhhhhhholahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13261662847815127412noreply@blogger.comBlogger12125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7237296807541351195.post-53917148833304154692015-01-21T12:42:00.000-08:002015-01-21T12:47:15.188-08:008 Things Every Student Will See During Freshers<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">"It's 4.38am on a Thursday morning. A feral student has just ran past you with no trousers on frantically waving a takeaway box with an unnamed food substance inside. There's smashed bottles of Tesco value vodka lacing the streets and a pile of vomit is staring you directly in the face. Another student falls precariously off the curb in front of you as you slowly hiccup, laugh, then stumble around them. Tonight you have danced with strangers, fist pumped with acquaintances and probably pulled your next door neighbour to the romantic symphony of Calvin Harris's 'Summer' playing in the background. </span></i><i><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Tonight is your first night of Freshers."</span></i></div>
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">After careful deliberation, discussion and recalling memories I'd tried so hard to forget; I have concocted a list of 8 things every Fresher will come across at some point or another during those first moments at university.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>1. The 'Sleeping' Student </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #0c343d;">Now don't get me wrong, sleeping students are by no means a revelation. It's actually more </span><span style="color: #0c343d;">likely for us to be asleep than awake. But never in your life will you have seen so many people passed out in such unconventional places. Corridors, benches, floors of a club, standing up, your halls stairway, in a tree, in a bin. Anywhere you can think of, it's been used as a snoozing area. Most of the time these 'naps' are the result of strawpedo-ing 10 beers to prove to your new flat mates how much of a top guy you are. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">But that's okay, we have all the respect in the world for those fallen soldiers and will always make time to take a few snap shots of such a beautiful moment. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY8ZX7vzXpbDiJZ59tX-RBOhClU1Usx3saUEDjqHbvbz7BrWJOZD5xP3Cr54mwzqZWk27qs9PJD5VfjG_578B-jIy_bQhHry94_TQ3v5LwR2N8da75qASTQFDiUN2pdpDNmFzDqm3NuZs/s1600/974737_10154837240910076_2013973310_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY8ZX7vzXpbDiJZ59tX-RBOhClU1Usx3saUEDjqHbvbz7BrWJOZD5xP3Cr54mwzqZWk27qs9PJD5VfjG_578B-jIy_bQhHry94_TQ3v5LwR2N8da75qASTQFDiUN2pdpDNmFzDqm3NuZs/s1600/974737_10154837240910076_2013973310_n.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>2. The One Who Acts Like They've Never Touched Alcohol Before </b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">They may come as solo travelers. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">They may come in packs.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">They may even stumble into you thinking you're their friend.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">But every Freshers undoubtedly has their own. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #0c343d;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">The concepts of alcohol and it's ability to... well... get you drunk, do not under any circumstances register in this persons brain. If this happens to be your mate, sit back, relax and get ready to mop up the sick later.</span> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Some may call it a trolley, some may call it a shopping cart but for the average Fresher these wonders double up as your transportation home for the evening. If it isn't you in the super speedy vehicle, you find yourself cheering on the fellows crashing past you at approximately 3mph until inevitably hitting a curb and spilling onto the pavement. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Now every time you do your Tesco shopping you can't look at a trolley without wanting to 'Whacky Racers' style it down aisle 12. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>4. The Walk of Shamers</b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Last nights clothing, that delicious look of confusion and a waft of regret. They keep their eyes to the ground and walk back and forth between flats a few times before remembering where they live and what their name is.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Above: this Leftover Monster seems to rolling <br />around on the floor to save his precious findings, cute. </span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>5</b></span><b style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: xx-large;">. The Leftover Monster</b><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Taking university life fully in their stride the Leftover Monster will destroy your 3 day old McDonald's chips... and have no shame in doing so. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b style="font-size: xx-large;">6. Freshers Flu</b><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><br />It's one of those things that before being a student you laughed at with despair. Obviously such a fucking stupid concept couldn't amount to reality, right? WRONG. You arrive to your first lectures and are greeted by a cacophony of hungover, unwashed teenagers spluttering on your unopened notebook. At first you turn to them with disgust, then before you know it you're wiping your dribbling nose on the sleeve of your jumper. Sexy.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I'm not even on this course I've just come<br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>7. The One Who Took Advantage Of The Free Alcohol</b></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Hats off to this person. They're stumbling around your 'Meet and Greet' harboring a minimum of 4 glasses of wine under their arms. Safety precautions of course, the free alcohol will run out at some point. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>8. Tesco Value Fancy Dress</b></span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">As we come to learn, there really is no shame in Tesco value products. However, when we apply the same budget to fancy dress events, the outcome is much (much) worse than a 42p pack of toilet roll. From males in thongs on initiations to socials gone wrong, 'tesco value fancy dress' really epitomises the struggle students have with these nights. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>The dress code:</i> <u>Smurf</u></span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>The student: </i>'I'm going to get my mate to rub a blue crayon over some parts of my body and then shove a nappy on my head' </span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>The dress code:</i> <u>Back To School</u></span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>The student (FEMALE):</i> 'I'll wear a skirt so short you'll hardly be able to see it, put my hair in bunches and wear shit loads of makeup'</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>The student (MALE):</i> 'I fucking love uni' </span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>The dress code:</i> <u>Beach Party</u></span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>The student (FEMALE):</i> 'A bikini will do'</span><br />
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<span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>The student (MALE):</i> 'I fucking love uni.'</span></div>
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hhhhhhholahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13261662847815127412noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7237296807541351195.post-75068771065838248472014-11-25T14:42:00.002-08:002014-11-25T14:44:06.165-08:00Hideous Clothing... is it Really Acceptable? Having a dress sense which neither includes any 'dresses' nor many 'senses' is a wonderfully odd category to fall into. Wearing baggy pants which could definitely be mistaken for pyjamas (well some of them actually are pyjamas), baggy tshirts on repeat and huge coats often gets me falsely taken for a homeless person... In addition to this wearing bright green cycling shorts and a brightly coloured 5 panel makes my attire match that of Mr. Motivators...<br />
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None of which I really mind an awful lot about. But it does pose the question... <b>Is it really acceptable?</b><br />
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In short, no. In the eyes of society/your peers/your Grandma, getting about in outlandish and probably 'hideous' clothing is not really acceptable anywhere bar Vera Wang's Spring/Summer catwalk premiere. But I don't see that as a particularly good reason not to do it.<br />
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For me, walking down the street and knowing people are quietly muttering to each other 'what the fuck is that girl wearing' is an absolutely spiffing concept. Baffling the heads of strangers is always fun and it takes the focus off the fact I've not slept properly or brushed my hair in a few days.<br />
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On the other side of this though you get those priceless compliments that just make your day ten times over because they're as unsure as you are as to why you're wearing what you're wearing. 'Oh, that shirt is ..... interesting' 'Wow those leggings are brave!' Thanks, I think.<br />
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At home the parentals can often ask such a wide variety of questions regarding what I'm wearing, some including 'Why are you a chav?' 'Why do you look like a P.E teacher?' and 'Where the fuck do you even find items of clothing like that?'. My friends come at me with 'Ria mate you can't go out in those' and 'You always look so comfy but stop wearing your pjs in public'.<br />
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Referring back to Vera Wang, some of the shit you see on the catwalk these days is absolutely crazy and it is becoming less and less frowned upon to go out in statement items. Probably not when you're just nipping to tesco but hey if you've got it flaunt it (and to the girl I saw today with a bright purple and silver bomber jacket you were certainly flaunting it).<br />
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I am the biggest fan of weird clothes, I think if you can pull it off (which I can't, but I like to think I can) and you're enjoying your choices then why does it really matter. Being comfortable in your own skin allows you to have stupendous amounts of fun with your clothing choices, so you might as well do something interesting with it.<br />
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Fashion the Hello Kitty socks with pedal pushers and werk werk werk the Willy Wonka style glasses with a head scarf. Each day is a new, hideous, clothing adventure to be embraced with open arms.<br />
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<br />hhhhhhholahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13261662847815127412noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7237296807541351195.post-32437611156415038692014-11-09T16:24:00.000-08:002014-11-23T07:21:20.753-08:0052 Days of I'm Not Quite Sure What<span style="font-size: large;">52 days since arriving at university... 52 days of becoming the master of procrastination, 52 days of learning how to drink a litre of rum without vomiting, 52 mornings of oversleeping, 52 packets of 9p noodles and 52 days where I've wondered what the fuck is actually going on.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaj6AWZaneoy425_PRONNfqSz5aolZOHKxP74mCOskD2PeSQwbZrnwn8gGARJ2C5n-KiAK7zT5xlH6e-k997UfOpc36ljmgUnntPGjVfJ-ZzAoQejJcBIEiZ9nw75yADZP8jXdygBPrqY/s1600/12345678654e3w.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaj6AWZaneoy425_PRONNfqSz5aolZOHKxP74mCOskD2PeSQwbZrnwn8gGARJ2C5n-KiAK7zT5xlH6e-k997UfOpc36ljmgUnntPGjVfJ-ZzAoQejJcBIEiZ9nw75yADZP8jXdygBPrqY/s1600/12345678654e3w.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></span></a><span style="font-size: large;">Whoever thought it would be a good idea to let thousands of lets face it, children, live in a huge complex together with absolutely no adult supervision whatsoever must be an absolute fucking nutter. Saying that I'm not one for good ideas and drinking myself into oblivion and turning up to lectures still on the extremely wonky side is 100% my idea of good time.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">What my course actually entails I couldn't begin to tell you BUT what I can tell however is how to get a trolley in to a third floor flat without majorly injuring anybody and I can also tell you how entertaining staring at a wall becomes after 10 minutes of a Shakespeare lecture.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">All joking aside though, turning up with my suitcase and 'big tesco bag' of worldly possessions all those 52 days ago was definitely slightly daunting and in all honesty it probably wasn't until a few weeks ago I properly settled in. Now my little box room scattered in dirty clothes and the whole selection of kitchenware is what I'd like to call my humble abode.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">For any parents out there worried about their 'baby girls' and their 'baby boys' experiencing the harsh realities of the big wide world... Please, please don't worry because this is not even a fraction of the real world and we're all doing just fine. It's basically just a year long sleepover where playing out becomes living at the pub down the road and bedtime stories evolve into everyone crammed into one persons room watching a marathon of some relatively mind-numbing TV series on someones laptop.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWqtBSbXK3eg6nB59lQ89c7T09aHSF5IpNJMoROrVGo2K5dJSzPaz_yL_gDlGhJ_qqHOzkR7iYmAZnDXHBLuC3jTqHJRSoOnNy4TqbQytBGJHIOTkwqZaUPKhhbNDl-WUzU_CAY2BDH7Y/s1600/B2Ch2oVIYAEEGKE.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWqtBSbXK3eg6nB59lQ89c7T09aHSF5IpNJMoROrVGo2K5dJSzPaz_yL_gDlGhJ_qqHOzkR7iYmAZnDXHBLuC3jTqHJRSoOnNy4TqbQytBGJHIOTkwqZaUPKhhbNDl-WUzU_CAY2BDH7Y/s1600/B2Ch2oVIYAEEGKE.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></span></a><span style="font-size: large;">Being thrown into such a we're-living-in-each-others-pockets-but-I-don't-really-mind kind of environment with people you've never met before is definitely an odd experience. For me what I've found the most comforting thing to be is how close you actually can become with people in such a short space of time. Within the first day I'd found my own little group and before knew it I was pouring my heart out to them over a portion of chips at the beloved 'Uni Kitchen' and then turning up to their door every morning thereafter for a brew and a ciggy. It is like having your own little family, a very dysfunctional family to say the bare minimum, but a family nonetheless.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Basically I'm trying to say that although my abilities to prioritise are lacking and I base my days around when I've been awake long enough for it to be nap time again, university is fun. And the staying up late to read the 4 novels, 50 poems and 5 Shakespeare plays you're yet to read and panicking about all the work you need to do is all part of the experience. It's okay to be a little behind and to be going out instead of doing your work (maybe) because that's what first year is for and anyone who tries to tell you otherwise clearly hasn't been here before. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Just gotta pass..... right? </span>hhhhhhholahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13261662847815127412noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7237296807541351195.post-82559317163336450932014-07-02T15:57:00.000-07:002014-07-02T23:48:05.113-07:00The Eventualities of the Upcoming MonthsBeing an over dramatic, stressed out and absolutely exhausted little pumpkin over the exam period has really sidetracked me from blogging recently. (Okay 6 months is definitely a little more than 'recently' and yes, I am still over dramatic) However, having about 12 half written posts on the likes of UCAS, pre-Summer prep and how to survive exam period without tearing your hair out and pushing your siblings down the stairs, has been frustrating. The amount of times I've sat and really attempted to publish them has been tedious, but now Summer is finally here I feel like the time is right to get back into the swing of things.<br>
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Having a whole <b>ONE HUNDRED AND THREE</b> days until I hopefully start my university course is daunting but ridiculously exciting and I'm nearly 103% sure most of you are feeling the same. Everyone sees Summer in a different light, I know for my friends the challenge of 'how many days can you stay awake until you actually pass out' ensues, but for others there's travelling to plan for, Magaluf to tan for and university to prepare for.<br>
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<a href="https://pbs.twimg.com/media/Bqp12CJIUAAOwbH.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://pbs.twimg.com/media/Bqp12CJIUAAOwbH.jpg" width="212"></a>So, with all these free days and most likely a limited amount of cash it's important to budget yourself so you don't end up mine-sweeping every single time you go out; throwing yourself at the nearest male/female in an attempt to get an alcoholic beverage is never a classy look. When the weather's not looking great, which we all know it usually isn't, it's easy to just stay inside and eat half the contents of your cupboards whilst watching and reciting every episode of OITNB.<br>
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So, here's some tips to avoid becoming a skint little couch potato and make the most of your summer. <br>
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TIP 1) If you haven't got a job, get one!<br>
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Although my job is the absolute bane of my life, the feeling of 'making it rain on them hoes' on pay day is just smashing and it reminds me that jumping off the first train home and into the doors of Starbucks is sometimes worth it. Job skills are stupidly vital in that thing they call the real world (hello yes I'm being Mother Hen again) and going into work in every state humanly possible has allowed me to master looking semi acceptable when I feel like death warmed up. Not only this but it gets you off your lazy arses and gives you a bit of extra cash.<br>
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TIP 2) Make a bucket list<br>
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Cheesy, I know. But think of loads of things you really want to do this Summer and aim to actually do them. Gives you some plans anyway, and just a shout out to my friends again, seeing how long you can stay up without passing out <u>does not</u> class as an addition to the bucket list.<br>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivtzhhfB2z4ETz7xxRBxNwEf_Mx2fzOXPMMKAV6gTCsvk8qzC7xtu0wTnkufi38Z_2kLsKQRAoj75Jbtp0hQUYdbfbakNxnB2Adm27WKrumMx5xfD31ZejrZxK1vW_8uF1JWYn3lModK0/s1600/IMG_5616%5B1%5D.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivtzhhfB2z4ETz7xxRBxNwEf_Mx2fzOXPMMKAV6gTCsvk8qzC7xtu0wTnkufi38Z_2kLsKQRAoj75Jbtp0hQUYdbfbakNxnB2Adm27WKrumMx5xfD31ZejrZxK1vW_8uF1JWYn3lModK0/s1600/IMG_5616%5B1%5D.PNG" height="320" width="179"></a>TIP 3) Get yourself a hobby<br>
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For me, not being able to read/blog/write/breathe over exam period has been restricting to say the least. So finding something you enjoy doing means that when you do get those days when you have got heaps of free time, you've got something productive to fill them with. Buy a book, start drawing, do something that means you're not being a smelly teenager in your room and you never know you might actually find something you're good at.<br>
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For the people reading this who wouldn't pick up a book if their life depended on it, I know being a raver is a 24 hour occupation but sometimes (just sometimes) finding something else to do can be good for you.<br>
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TIP 4) Explore your own city/town/countryside<br>
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If you're like me and you do live near a city, you probably don't realise how lucky you actually are. For me Manchester has always been a mint place to explore, there is always something going on whether it be little workshops in Nexus Art Cafe or Street Fairs in the Northern Quarter. There's no reason to just hop on the train and go! Even if you're strapped for cash, a homemade treat from Eighth Day on Oxford Road never costs more than a fiver. And if you are heading off to uni in September you need to get used to making that money stretch, sadly you can't live off vodka for the whole 3 years you're there!<br>
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TIP 5) Explore another city/town/countryside<br>
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Hop in a car, on a train or get a lift from that man in Manchester on the skateboard with the bendy legs to anywhere you feel the wind takes you (excluding Scunthorpe and Moss Side). Recently I camped in the back of a car squished in with a few duvets and some longboards and woke up to the sun rising over the beach. Alright, I wasn't awake for sun rise and the car was so sweaty I thought I was in the African rain forest, but the image was nice initially wasn't it? All sweatiness aside adding some spontaneity into your Summer plans can never be a bad idea.<br>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHfaMhONlaJURQEuT0xbA3wzC0T-UW4hO8bvjJ98E2SogDvhP3FMz_XUUy7oRPkFJEKFbZiUpSrCPEXb81i4CenLQ9gON21RHzpjyEhgUzboQFFBbCxtVttwHYWP2-TADpuvu_RfkxawE/s1600/IMG_5483%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHfaMhONlaJURQEuT0xbA3wzC0T-UW4hO8bvjJ98E2SogDvhP3FMz_XUUy7oRPkFJEKFbZiUpSrCPEXb81i4CenLQ9gON21RHzpjyEhgUzboQFFBbCxtVttwHYWP2-TADpuvu_RfkxawE/s1600/IMG_5483%5B1%5D.JPG" height="240" width="320"></a><br>
TIP 6) Sunshine means <u>no excuses</u><br>
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Whether you're skint, tired, hungover, half dead or just a mard arse, if the sun is shining you should be ashamed of yourself if you're not outside enjoying it. It's such a rarity here that the sun actually shines so when it does you probably need to join the rest of the British population by purchasing a can of 'skol' and taking your clothes off in the nearest public place. Although no clothes removal team is present in this picture, this is a clear display of us 'enjoying' the sunshine after a house party. I use the inverted commas due to the fact we hadn't washed, slept or managed to produce a real word since the day previous but there we are<br>
nonetheless smiling through it.<br>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO6mZkFYuj3M9u6qQubQRCm5dmy_y-0P_gCr_Ud-t1H3sXj3ds5Y9qXiYiPqgj24kNZUA3GyUNhtI5QkUiVD-gMhtKCm5tR_x5S6svYopqtCY8LbvDMUgNy3sCX1Jmx4hDr6Gao4X8ag4/s1600/IMG_5302%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO6mZkFYuj3M9u6qQubQRCm5dmy_y-0P_gCr_Ud-t1H3sXj3ds5Y9qXiYiPqgj24kNZUA3GyUNhtI5QkUiVD-gMhtKCm5tR_x5S6svYopqtCY8LbvDMUgNy3sCX1Jmx4hDr6Gao4X8ag4/s1600/IMG_5302%5B1%5D.JPG" height="240" width="320"></a><br>
As we've just got a new puppy I've found taking the dog for a walk is a great excuse to get out of the house. Seemingly problems can arise if you don't have a dog to walk BUT after doing some thinking I've worked out that there's many substitutes available including walking any other household pets (although fish prove a little difficult), brothers and sisters and just about any inanimate object with wheels. I mean it is Summer and I can bet most of you get up to weirder things anyway.<br>
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TIP 7) Get in touch with old friends/family<br>
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We all have that one friend (or list of friends, but we're reluctant to admit it) that we swear to god we'll meet up with soon. It may have been years since you've seen this person and the likelihood is that you probably do really want to see them, but you've been so busy washing your hair and tending to other menial tasks that these plans have never materialised and you've suddenly forgotten what their second name is and what they look like. Now is the time to stop saying you'll go for coffee soon and actually go for coffee.<br>
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The same goes for family; I know sometimes wearing a party hat at your Grandma's 60th whilst 'getting down' to some Celine Dion isn't the best way to spend *chants* SUMMER 2014 LADS but family are important and going to see Uncle's and Auntie's and Grandma's and Grandpa's can be a good way to spend your day. (Added tip: don't pick this option for days you're feeling as rough as a bears arse because you yourself won't be smashing company)<br>
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Overall, just remember that this is the Summer you've been waiting for for what feels like 4 and a half years so don't fucking waste it! Behave kids (ish). </div>
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<br>hhhhhhholahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13261662847815127412noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7237296807541351195.post-2413114478693441282013-12-11T13:18:00.002-08:002013-12-11T15:35:02.105-08:00Eden Open Mic Night - Raising for Francis House<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
When you say Sunday evening I think of curling up in the dark reflecting on the table dancing and lamp-post pole dancing of the previous night and crying about the Monday morning doom which is in close proximity.</div>
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This Sunday, however, I managed to drag my sorry little ass out of bed and get myself down to <b>Eden</b> in the Gay Village. I have to say my relationship with the village is that of a 'love-hate' one, I tell everyone I hate the place and it's inhabitants but secretly on most nights out I'll end up there at some point, it's like an involuntary homing call. But this time it was different, as it was a fundraiser for the fantastic charity Francis House, I felt a good cause was calling.<br />
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<b>Francis House</b> is a children's hospice established to ensure families with terminally ill children receive the highest level of care and support. All the services offered are free and include care at home, daycare at the centre offering the use of their fantastic facilities and aiding families through an indescribably difficult period. As I know the fantastic host, Georgia, I grew to learn that one of the members of staff at Eden was closely connected to the charity and it's work, providing a very personal and fervent reason to raise money for Francis House.</div>
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Eden in itself is a very cosy and welcoming little bar/restaurant on the other side of the canal. Georgia, through much hard work (also known as flirting), managed to gain some absolutely fantastic gifts for a raffle including 3 tapas dishes and a bottle of wine at Molly House and one night's stay at the lush Le Ville hotel. Dressed as Miley for the evening, Georgia said herself, the real '<i>community feel'</i> of the Gay Village shone through and she knew they wanted to help this great cause as best they could. </div>
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I did manage, in a fit of anger, to launch my glass of Jerimiah Weed all over myself and the floor when I didn't win any prizes. Childish strops are my forte,<i> wasting alcohol is not</i>. </div>
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Throughout the night, talented acoustic artists such as Ruth Derry and Jes Stretton kept the atmosphere buzzing and initiated a few singalongs, keeping the crowd entertained between the rounds of the quiz. Which by the way EDEN was not suited for the younger participants due to the fact I have never heard of ' Ducktales' or 'Round the Twist' ever before in my (evidently very short) life; making the other members of my team feel extremely old. </div>
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Me being the absolutely mint team player I am, was the first to shove my hand in the air when a volunteer was requested. <span style="font-size: large;">Wow.</span> I can't say I've ever regretting anything as much in my life when the words 'sing-off' were uttered. All for a good cause I told myself as I awkward swayed about a stage getting all the words to 'All I Want for Christmas' by Mariah Carey so ridiculously wrong. </div>
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A fun-filled night nonetheless and held for an even better cause; these events occur every month and I couldn't recommend a better way to spend your Sunday evening! Eden really becomes the hotbed of competitive fun with a big gay quiz night hosted by <span style="font-size: large;">Mike Lee</span> on every first Sunday of the month, so you're sure never to miss the drunken fun.<br />
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Congrats to the team and everyone who donated as they managed to raise <span style="font-size: large;">over £500.</span> So get yourself down to the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/edenbarmanchester" target="_blank">Eden Facebook page</a> and keep your eyes peeled for the next open mic or donate directly to <a href="http://www.francishouse.org.uk/index.cfm?page=defaultList&listId=45" target="_blank">Francis House</a> to avoid the possible chances of participating in a sing off but miss the opportunity of seeing Georgia in near to nothing, WIT WOO.</div>
hhhhhhholahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13261662847815127412noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7237296807541351195.post-35762855548068186452013-11-10T16:28:00.002-08:002013-11-10T16:35:56.107-08:00London for the Hearst Editors Talk<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhczCLy8slX6xJ4myneK2oDzaUf6e626rEt1g9sX2Adc1dpY828IKSbdj1aEWl7UcvXwWjr3iPuRCEP0EhXRHwSF9DVTD7QYlwXTR9FXDOeFfMejDKlsc2NsIayNoCmH4D8AKXQdFT0YIU/s1600/996965_10153391169230394_1543148092_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhczCLy8slX6xJ4myneK2oDzaUf6e626rEt1g9sX2Adc1dpY828IKSbdj1aEWl7UcvXwWjr3iPuRCEP0EhXRHwSF9DVTD7QYlwXTR9FXDOeFfMejDKlsc2NsIayNoCmH4D8AKXQdFT0YIU/s200/996965_10153391169230394_1543148092_n.jpg" width="150" /></a>Last Sunday at the delicious time of 9AM, bearing in mind I'd been out the night before and had yet managed to sleep, I hopped on a coach with my irritatingly well-slept and well-fed cousin for a 7 hour journey to London. Although feeling like my stomach was laced with poison and my head was about to implode, I did manage to catch a few winks en route down there despite the small child behind me doing what I can only describe as the can-can on the back of my chair.<br />
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Because we were there for a few nights we went and stayed with my other cousin in his university halls, he's an art student and goes to Central St. Martins, which apparently is super slick in the fashion world but me in my poncho and boots with holes in wasn't completely aware of this. 3 people shoved into a box room is tricky in itself, without enough bits of fabric to clothe a small family of hippos and some machinery that looked more suited to a medieval torture chamber than a fashion studio.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi13WL039RTYcfdhta3_MURzRX_8GbT4s2hAJofMWS5N0__JP1qlzcKiseme-R9jiSgWBgJ2yl7oeo3dEYF86vbyFcdLsJj7fRqTgh3dYWBYkflkM7hbZDVEzkG0tjxgwO-7jmCM_e-AV4/s1600/1454611_10153391170390394_2060804914_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi13WL039RTYcfdhta3_MURzRX_8GbT4s2hAJofMWS5N0__JP1qlzcKiseme-R9jiSgWBgJ2yl7oeo3dEYF86vbyFcdLsJj7fRqTgh3dYWBYkflkM7hbZDVEzkG0tjxgwO-7jmCM_e-AV4/s200/1454611_10153391170390394_2060804914_n.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stopping off for some cheeky crepes in Covent Garden</td></tr>
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I like the concept of London; the picturesque gardens and majestic buildings but on a whole I dislike how impersonal everything is. The people are ridiculously rude and always look like someone just shit on everything they love, but then again so would I if i had to spend more than 2 minutes on a sweaty damp tube.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr-YD2oG_Cwm13C1Pr0LntkqMTk0jj2y3mLrsByMjR29DCBarrgOvY1H0l067SesGwZ6ZjGwQR5SgUwkHnSRyPBTRkGeJuyRgnNcLgL4IwP6gAGpvM9n8tPkMSrHoi2c7hMlt84nle0yQ/s1600/1457633_10153391168690394_857020664_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr-YD2oG_Cwm13C1Pr0LntkqMTk0jj2y3mLrsByMjR29DCBarrgOvY1H0l067SesGwZ6ZjGwQR5SgUwkHnSRyPBTRkGeJuyRgnNcLgL4IwP6gAGpvM9n8tPkMSrHoi2c7hMlt84nle0yQ/s200/1457633_10153391168690394_857020664_n.jpg" width="200" /></a>Anyway, so the reason we were down there was to attend a networking event with the editors of the big dog fashion magazines like Company and Cosmopolitan etc etc, thus meaning I had to remove the poncho and place on something slightly more suitable. On arrival to the extremely posh hotel (the use of 'Maps' on my iPhone pretty much stopped us from wandering into the ghettos) we were handed large glasses of champagne which I shall never complain about and were thrown into a room filled with very stylish and eloquent people.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6dJBl6dM6d0QQqysrj5KEATMoTHkpqeKBHB_bLv5u5tcJ0hukhciDllU_-4duF-05AvoZMqVmsmhmXduiv-GIzoFezjb2Za6azuN840j27ASb8AHhq4HfpaXXrIskApCGaOBS35bsIlU/s1600/BYOtXE0IMAA2Afe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6dJBl6dM6d0QQqysrj5KEATMoTHkpqeKBHB_bLv5u5tcJ0hukhciDllU_-4duF-05AvoZMqVmsmhmXduiv-GIzoFezjb2Za6azuN840j27ASb8AHhq4HfpaXXrIskApCGaOBS35bsIlU/s200/BYOtXE0IMAA2Afe.jpg" width="150" /></a>The best part of the evenings was by far the goodie bags, I'm sorry but free gin, benefit makeup, books, moisturiser and a Bananagram game was maybe too exciting for my short attention span and ability to be over the moon with the little things in life.<br />
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The Q and A was informative and gave insight into the big bad world of print publication, mostly though that you have to start making tea for some wanker (the wanker you'll end up being if you manage to be that successful) before you can begin to move up that dreaded ladder.<br />
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A fun outing nonetheless and possibly a step towards my future, who knows who knows, but for now I'll take the free gin and be 100% content.<br />
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<br />hhhhhhholahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13261662847815127412noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7237296807541351195.post-16028156826337466372013-09-02T15:10:00.002-07:002013-09-25T15:50:41.585-07:00The drunken mishaps, Serbians and 50 cent shots of Zante 2013 (PART ONE)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga3HqLjv9TcYO1-tnXJCYrXROUizR8TZJl3jWKYHyuP89nwu94x3gn0adD_kDMeyWNTBa7-TLbNbgi4NGQQzHlW3U25Gqj2y2dkYXCCQLvEoOuvymb4lZV-RV-LYdWVwoXfDFyeK4mUZo/s1600/1004668_531268336938478_798822901_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga3HqLjv9TcYO1-tnXJCYrXROUizR8TZJl3jWKYHyuP89nwu94x3gn0adD_kDMeyWNTBa7-TLbNbgi4NGQQzHlW3U25Gqj2y2dkYXCCQLvEoOuvymb4lZV-RV-LYdWVwoXfDFyeK4mUZo/s320/1004668_531268336938478_798822901_n.jpg" width="236" /></a>So, this tale starts ever so innocently with 6 friends sat in a back garden in matching t-shirts getting a little too excited about their closely approaching holiday.<br />
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Sadly, shortly after we left the house for some quality alcohol time before we got to the airport, the story didn't quite carry through the innocent theme. After arriving at the airport and playing Mum <b>(top passport-holder-and-loud-friend-controller award goes to me)</b>, getting cheekily frisked and having a few of our bags searched, which is always nerve-wrecking with friends like mine, we finally got through passport control.<br />
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Ella and Jaymie then proceeded to drink a<b> whole</b> bottle of Jagermeister, forced some people on the plane to move seats due to the fact Ella was screaming <i><span style="font-size: large;">'IT'S NOT MY FAULT YOU HAVE A CHAMPAGNE LIFESTYLE AND A LAMBRINI BUDGET'</span></i> down her ear after this woman told her not to kick her chair.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjscb2JdI32IMj4poj2Crccudj3lyfgIrF3FZujBlHsMrrHNbtClTd4tGDRBgVg7UJz641N59y3Idm9PTEEtq_i65VMfdUX6mivtzzEVh7tBQbKsQTmH7kCvL5w6brckh7mZuPsBnkvZBQ/s1600/531785_531267466938565_451127738_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjscb2JdI32IMj4poj2Crccudj3lyfgIrF3FZujBlHsMrrHNbtClTd4tGDRBgVg7UJz641N59y3Idm9PTEEtq_i65VMfdUX6mivtzzEVh7tBQbKsQTmH7kCvL5w6brckh7mZuPsBnkvZBQ/s320/531785_531267466938565_451127738_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Anyone spot the drunken one?</td></tr>
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When we eventually arrived in Zante, Ella and Jaymie (still extremely drunk) star fished on the floor in front of passport control, and then got on the luggage conveyor with all the suitcases and ran around for a while. Although I was doing my best 'I'm disappointed with your behaviour guys' look, when on playback it was absolutely hilarious. </div>
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When we finally got to the hotel, we got greeted by the lovely hotel owners, the drunken stragglers who'd managed as far as the pool before stopping to snooze, and the security guard of whom we're still convinced was called <span style="font-size: large;">Nestea</span>.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6Iub7Plez-XJqlsMaymHS4SpilqHcYF2_1sli8exHzSbMvcbld-F03165ieE2V6Ubv0C5u2xLqT2ARcAJ9DizZkd45wm59TCeGMOa0OwfOTTkU0aBSptfdn0tRR7WSGeXQ9mMMn9KxpA/s1600/972082_531268563605122_810001243_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="237" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6Iub7Plez-XJqlsMaymHS4SpilqHcYF2_1sli8exHzSbMvcbld-F03165ieE2V6Ubv0C5u2xLqT2ARcAJ9DizZkd45wm59TCeGMOa0OwfOTTkU0aBSptfdn0tRR7WSGeXQ9mMMn9KxpA/s320/972082_531268563605122_810001243_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">The highlight of the week </span>was easily the UV paint party, which was something ridiculous like<span style="font-size: large;"> <b>400</b></span> litres of paint and <b><span style="font-size: large;">1500</span> </b>people. Personally, I've never had UV paint shot at me at high speed out of cannon before, but it was one of those epiphany-provoking moments that you really value your life as you feel like you've been shit on by a UV hippo.<br />
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Me being me, and my friends being my friends; I did have a few <span style="font-size: large;">near death experiences</span> along the way. Before we set off for Zante, I had a meagre two rules from Mamma Hope:<br />
1) No swimming in the sea at night<br />
2) No quad bikes.<br />
I then went out to break each one of the rules and endanger life just slightly, but heyyyyy it's all part of the fun.<br />
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<b>NUMBER ONE</b>: After one too many 50 cent tequila shots, me and Jaymie decided that it would be a more than delicious idea to see if we could swim to the next Greek island. Yes.... the next island. We went in fully clothed (shoes included) and we must've swam for about an hour and a half, no exaggeration. When we finally half sobered up and realised it'd take us a good day to swim there, we tried to swim back..<br />
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...to find the tide was going out. We swam for half an hour against the current, and got no where. At all.<br />
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But finally managed to get back to shore, walk back home absolutely dripping wet and then throw up all over Jodie's balcony. Waking up the next morning with 'LETTUCE LICKER' henna tattoed on my thigh wasn't so fun in that moment of uncertainty of whether it was, in fact a real tattoo.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLuQazFU2bba2w8G1uRz50Edq_EMkbT76HYyCtCpqkteMa-T0NK6aqAR_RoBrS3xVM5WWRaJmdDL9ZOtD1KXY2OPPgl_DqJb-QUs0ACWf5MUXrU02tygQlCNt4_Xp-M6QsiMBGioVCHH4/s1600/996865_10201517554971649_1291256972_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLuQazFU2bba2w8G1uRz50Edq_EMkbT76HYyCtCpqkteMa-T0NK6aqAR_RoBrS3xVM5WWRaJmdDL9ZOtD1KXY2OPPgl_DqJb-QUs0ACWf5MUXrU02tygQlCNt4_Xp-M6QsiMBGioVCHH4/s320/996865_10201517554971649_1291256972_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<b>NUMBER TWO: </b>On the last day we decided we'd venture out and get some quad bikes. This was easily the best day time activity we did and ending up on the other side of Zante was beautiful. But, due to the fact you had to give in a driving license, I got Jaymie's for her and as we drove out of the shop together I went to show off to the ladies and do a u-turn in the road (fab showing off techniques I know) and managed to tip the whole quad bike, and myself, and Jaymie, onto the floor....<br />
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Suffice to say, the people at the quad shop just picked it up, laughed and let me get back on it.<br />
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<i>(to be continued) </i><br />
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hhhhhhholahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13261662847815127412noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7237296807541351195.post-15203343960447895862013-09-02T14:46:00.000-07:002013-09-02T14:46:19.247-07:00Zzz... Due to the fact I have been over-indulging in all free time this Summer, I have been far too hungover/drunk/working to keep on top of this blogging business which I am partially disappointed in myself for.<br />
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<b>BUT</b> on the other hand it has given me much fuel for interesting and embarrassing posts which I'm sure you're all chomping at the bit to read..... I'm lying, you've probably all been out enjoying yourself too much too even care; nonetheless I promise many juicy tales are currently in progress.hhhhhhholahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13261662847815127412noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7237296807541351195.post-88359089471812942312013-07-11T14:46:00.000-07:002013-07-11T15:02:40.886-07:00The art of flirting?I really try to refrain from calling it an art, I don't think anything related to cringe-worthy chat up lines and asking the closest person whether they want a drink, should be called an art. For starters, everyone in that club/brothel/aquarium or wherever else tickles your fancy, wants a fucking drink, if they don't then you probably won't want to be with them anyway, due to the fact they'll be sober and you're probably not looking so smashing.<br />
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I write this post because today... I got chatted up. This is a rare occurrence for me.<i> And it wasn't pleasant.</i><br />
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I was quietly minding my own business sat outside work after a gruelling 8 and a bit-too-long hour shift, reading my book and burning alive in my black uniform when one of my regulars peeks his head over my shoulder and exclaims 'oh you're reading!!!!'.<br />
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I felt like turning around and giving him a good slap, yes I'm reading this book I am holding.. What else am I doing with it? Feeding children in Africa with it? Using it to paint my nails with? Yes Sir, I am reading it.<br />
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So after his very intellectual and insightful comment, he decided to encroach on my personal space and sit so close to me he might as well have been wearing my flip flops. He asked me about what exactly it was I was reading, I told him poetry, he asked if I'd read him one, so I did.<br />
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He then told me I have beautiful eyes and a good heart.. How it progressed to that I'll never know.<br />
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Ladies, Gentlemen and anyone else reading this, if you want to try to chat someone up do not, <b>at any point</b>, start talking about how many children you want. HELLO this is the 21st century, I am still a child and I do not want any of my own any time soon. My interests are swinging from chandeliers naked and playing in paddling pools full of whiskey. Not cleaning up shitty nappies that I'm sure I didn't grow out of before you'd finished your degree.<br />
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Because he is a regular, we have an unwritten rule at work to not be rude and to comply with what they're saying; usually they'll back off after a while. So after the 19th time he asked for my number, I scrawled it on a rizzla paper (the classy lady that I am) and tried to get back to my book.. This did not work. He was still sat there. Staring at me.<br />
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This gentleman is about 30, he's a millionaire and he drives a Bentley. I told him my age. He still didn't leave. I told him many things I thought would put him off: <br />
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<ul>
<li>That I wasn't interested in his materialistic possesions, </li>
<li>that I wasn't going to cook him the picnic he wanted, </li>
<li>that I wasn't willing to carry his children, </li>
<li>that I had an STD, </li>
<li>that my life was failing, </li>
<li>that my Dad was a drug lord, </li>
<li>that I have 14 toes</li>
<li>that i'm married to my cat... </li>
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Okay maybe I didn't tell him all those things, but they definitely ran through my mind.<br />
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He was relentless and he didn't leave, I had to leave. This wasn't nice, I felt stupidly uncomfortable and definitely was a little bit sick in my mouth.<br />
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I'm not quite sure how flirting works anymore, chivalry is most definitely in it's dying days. Dying as in playing scrabble in a retirement home dying. I mean how freaked out would you be if someone turned up outside your house blasting a romantic love ballad from their boombox to declare their love for you; I'd probably throw my cats at them and issue a restraining order.<br />
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However much we'd like to pretend we'd love all that romantic super soppy vomiting up rainbows and happiness shit, really the truth is we're all probably more likely to respond to a Facebook message saying 'oh hey ur tits r well nice wana meet up?' than being asked out on a conventional date.<br />
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So much flirting these days occurs over social networking sites, which really is the most stupid thing that's come of this transfer to technology. You're sat staring at your laptop or your phone, talking to someone you've probably never met, or definitely never met sober, looking at pictures that have been professionally airbrushed and most likely getting their charming one-liners from their Mother.<br />
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I suppose we could be stuck in this little rut, maybe men grinding their sweaty junk on you in clubs, or girls slut dropping on your freshly polished shoes is the way we are to find our next victims? I hope for the sake of everyone on this planet, and definitely the next generation to come, this is not true.hhhhhhholahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13261662847815127412noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7237296807541351195.post-85918077403855615142013-07-09T12:37:00.004-07:002013-07-09T12:44:51.281-07:00University Road trips: Leeds and NewcastleOn the quest for a university; something the most of you will be undergoing at this point. Not usually the most enthralling thing on a whole, but an adventure to somewhere new none-the-less.<br />
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As I've grown up in Manchester, around the drunken homeless people screaming about cats and drugs and attending many a classy, and also many a truly scummy, venue for a night out, my question is do I search for a bigger city with a more thriving atmosphere or do I opt for a smaller, more cosy place to spend my 3 years studying?<br />
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<u><b>Leeds Met</b></u><br />
The first university I went to look at was Leeds Met. Being completely honest it was more for the idea of a day off college than truly invested time into my future (sorry Mum). The city itself was buzzing with charisma and I liked the fact that although it was a big city, everything felt intimate enough not to be intimidating. Plus it seemed like there was enough bars to crawl out of at any time of the day.<br />
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The actual university I was pleasantly surprised with, the building was new and clean; cleanliness being something I clearly took for granted at this point, as some of the other universities I've looked at actually looked better placed on an episode of 'Skint'. The lecturer was well informed and shot out a fiery hour of structured journalism chatter which impressed me greatly.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjv8oI93WOFXv14XBPtbEv9suvBUy1ltQ5ikTUmbY5ByqP4lbWZo6EWAk1rv5SJE4ELnnI56n2YOkrxuaNPI0ayx7KrhoJI-CGHc6jCMrW7m6yhyfkyOdf3lut3Q97SvsEMC-k7UG1hXQ/s1600/tumblr_mpmywbnol11qck2ivo1_250.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjv8oI93WOFXv14XBPtbEv9suvBUy1ltQ5ikTUmbY5ByqP4lbWZo6EWAk1rv5SJE4ELnnI56n2YOkrxuaNPI0ayx7KrhoJI-CGHc6jCMrW7m6yhyfkyOdf3lut3Q97SvsEMC-k7UG1hXQ/s320/tumblr_mpmywbnol11qck2ivo1_250.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
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Sadly, after I'd attended my lecture in the prim, preen and highly equipped classroom, we escaped to a little bar opposite the Uni called Dry Dock, situated inside a ship, how exciting.. I know I was equally impressed with the university as I was with the boat shaped bar - which definitely tickled the students inside of us with the £5.50 burger and a beer deal.<br />
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After the burger, and the beer, and the sunshine. We didn't quite make it back to the university.. On the upper hand, we did make it to the closest area with shops. The fact that Leeds is only an hour away from Manchester makes it appealing, and also unappealing at the same time. Appealing due to the fact if I end up in hospital because I've drunkenly slipped on someones takeaway and broken my ankle, my relatives can come shower me in gifts and naked women. Unappealing due to the fact I wanna go far far away so my Mum can't come over and nag at me about washing up and not wearing the same socks 4 days in a row.<br />
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I shall be making a more productive (in the eyes of parental control) visit back to the university later in the year, without the distraction of cheap meat and friends who are most definitely bad influences <b style="font-style: italic;">but</b> the little I did see, I liked and I shall be back with much more fruitful information when I return from my second visit.<br />
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<u><b>Newcastle and Northumbria</b></u><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAfw7igQlohodsqamcUQZPoJHqrNkw9rCNaS5C0t5_AxQuqP8Tx8tPx3f3GX1oCLH4zf9hU0JART1L9a0mqf_yPXVsd6V7EAo2N008hTio7jNiIjdS247Evr80e6CD_fPlLdNt7CZ7mBs/s1600/BN2oYN1CAAABFF_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAfw7igQlohodsqamcUQZPoJHqrNkw9rCNaS5C0t5_AxQuqP8Tx8tPx3f3GX1oCLH4zf9hU0JART1L9a0mqf_yPXVsd6V7EAo2N008hTio7jNiIjdS247Evr80e6CD_fPlLdNt7CZ7mBs/s320/BN2oYN1CAAABFF_.jpg" width="320" /></a>A charming 3 and a half hour drive in the sunshine, my overly organised Mother and my equally as noisy best friend. I was excited for our little overnight stay in Newcastle and had been for a while, when we arrived at our Quayside Travelodge with mysterious stains on the curtains and beds similar to that of Auschwitz's; I can't say I was overly impressed.....<br />
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......then I remembered I'm not a hotel inspector and I wasn't here to decide whether the hotel was up to standards as I'm sure my student accommodation will be plastered in much more disgusting oddities than that of the Travelodge's.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigCiNd_hTLsoijq9kvTNkIkabJiQxuSLl4VXX9Dtt7ApM_a2cfBPJ46wkYYJhR6TlSPvldlHHhPwe6qnFCruF30Yj3F6z2_qp60H05BxF0y2XmQvb0R7ggm5X6QXytam1Dm2-O8zKamL4/s1600/tumblr_mpmywbnol11qck2ivo2_250.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigCiNd_hTLsoijq9kvTNkIkabJiQxuSLl4VXX9Dtt7ApM_a2cfBPJ46wkYYJhR6TlSPvldlHHhPwe6qnFCruF30Yj3F6z2_qp60H05BxF0y2XmQvb0R7ggm5X6QXytam1Dm2-O8zKamL4/s320/tumblr_mpmywbnol11qck2ivo2_250.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
After anti-bacterialing the room, ourselves and all our belongings, we headed out into Newcastle for a cheeky look around. Settling for a hearty meal at Wagamama's in a square which held qualities similar to that of the a smaller Spinningfields if we're in comparison with Manchester.<br />
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My first impressions on Newcastle were positive ones, Quayside and wherever the Wagamama's was situated were funky and urban. But as me and Jay went out for the evening, the people weren't as friendly as I'd expected. We didn't go 'out out' due to the fact that we had to be up at stupid o'clock because my regimented Mother had a schedule to attend to but we went to a few terribly scummy bars. <i>Although</i> we have a tendency to pick the more ruckus atmospheres so it could've just been a few bad decisions on our behalves. <br />
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Trying to get up at half 6 the next morning, after Jay had fallen next to her bed as we arrived back to the hotel after being heckled by 30 year old men on stag do's, was so much harder than expected. I felt like swinging my Mother around by her toenails as she kept insisting it was time to wake up. I fancied just asking her if she knew what desperado's was and if she did, why was she being so fucking inconsiderate...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1sk11m_wJ-ivVRkNjJsURH8BYke5P9AoqjvIRnWKFV_mEy6AgTmu5tnmsgEpo37ZBU685qQ4HrM5WiaGi0aiOFoDgQsn-eUeGDLAJUWnnljzP4w8a2VXKqHVyhXa0ijSwIEnuwSthHPg/s1600/tumblr_mpmywbnol11qck2ivo3_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1sk11m_wJ-ivVRkNjJsURH8BYke5P9AoqjvIRnWKFV_mEy6AgTmu5tnmsgEpo37ZBU685qQ4HrM5WiaGi0aiOFoDgQsn-eUeGDLAJUWnnljzP4w8a2VXKqHVyhXa0ijSwIEnuwSthHPg/s320/tumblr_mpmywbnol11qck2ivo3_500.jpg" width="320" /></a>Luckily, she did actually manage to draw us from the quilts due to the fact we did have open days to attend. As me and Jay nursed each other in the car on the way to Newcastle University, I wasn't overly sure what to expect. The course I was looking at for Newcastle wasn't quite what I'd thought, and although the buildings from the outside held stunning qualities, inside seemed a little shabby and run down. I can't say the course stood out to me, therefore I lost interest soon after that. Plus I had some hash browns at the S.U cafe and they tasted like cardboard, they were offensive. Students deserve good nosh, especially at posh uni's.<br />
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I have no words to even describe Northumbria University. The lecturer making the talk on the three Journalism courses offered, clearly had slim to no idea what she was even talking about. And the poor boy starting in September had questions for her she couldn't even begin to bullshit her way through without referring to a tatty piece of paper on her desk.<br />
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Prior to this we had to drop Jay off at 'Coach Lane Campus' which is situated just a hefty 10 minute drive from the town centre. Using the wonderfulness that is the iPhone 4 sat nav, we were taken through a council estate to a cut through to this delightful campus. I left Jay here feeling like it was the last time on earth I was ever going to see her little hungover face again; there was overgrown weeds surrounding a derelict playground, surrounded by derelict houses. I felt like I was going to contract some kind of disease asking the fat half naked lady where we were supposed to be going..<br />
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I've still not been to a university which has completely captured me just yet, I shall be waitttttting and bringing more updates as I go!<br />
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<br />hhhhhhholahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13261662847815127412noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7237296807541351195.post-86071426674488385242013-07-04T16:27:00.001-07:002013-07-05T04:03:34.293-07:00An eagerly anticipated 'holiday'. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5kehTtJDo0h21RmZPOmty2d8FXwnEnbOZd2kGpRdMHa_61MVKyN7wklekYXd7symQMaS6IitoPvKdrEs43w4fbCiMW9lO3uoNbgQa_SJiXfqUtGkxJvWbqvDUBu8YOj_WSdQ4Ht6ojIg/s720/580777_4252343597728_1254907978_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5kehTtJDo0h21RmZPOmty2d8FXwnEnbOZd2kGpRdMHa_61MVKyN7wklekYXd7symQMaS6IitoPvKdrEs43w4fbCiMW9lO3uoNbgQa_SJiXfqUtGkxJvWbqvDUBu8YOj_WSdQ4Ht6ojIg/s320/580777_4252343597728_1254907978_n.jpg" width="238" /></a></div>
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A weeks adventure out to the other side of Europe, no parental control, sweltering heat and a group of frenzied teenagers that you're reluctant to call your friends. To the average Joe (over the age of 30 and anyone even partially sane), this seems like the idea of a living hell, and I suppose retrospectively it's not far off.<br />
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This Summer I have the unfortunate privilege of taking myself off to Laganas, Zante. Which outside the months of May to September is a beautiful Greek Island situated in the Ionian sea, surrounded by deep teal waters and quietly reserved locals. But during these Summer months, Zante welcomes the majority of Britain's wild youths with open arms; arms filled with shots, things on fire and sex.<br />
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Inside my brain there's some sort of pre-Zante party occurring where I have visions of myself surrounded by beautiful ladies in bikinis feeding me Pina Colada's on the beach whilst fanning me with their tits... Just maybe.<br />
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After jetting off to the oh-so luxurious Kavos last year, I have learnt some very <i>very</i> pointless tips that you're probably not going to listen to or follow but I feel if I don't tell you now I'll feel responsible for keeping them to myself.<br />
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<ol>
<li><b>Stay away, and I mean really far away, from FREE BARS</b></li>
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When a random stranger is screaming in your face '5 EUROS FREE ALCOHOL VODKA SEX VODKA YEAAAAAHHH', it's hard to A) decide what their native tongue is and B) wonder why your body is carrying yourself towards the voice. Stay firmly out of the way of free bars. Due how gullible we are these days, it doesn't matter how many shots of this eye-wateringly sugary syrup you down, you will not, by any means be getting drunk.<br />
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The best thing to do is find a smaller, usually quieter bar to start your evening with. Although it might be slightly more costly, everyone will look a million times more attractive than they did when you arrived, which is priceless when you're in competition to get a shag first.<br />
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2. <b>Always stick together; 2's or 3's or in your hundreds</b><br />
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I know the Mother Hen in me is becoming prominent. But after losing one of my friends, and after hours of running up and down the beach with one shoe on, screaming her name, solely to find her with her keks around her ankles in a fishing boat, it's pretty important that you don't let anyone (especially the slutty one) run away.<br />
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I suppose this relates more to girls, but if you wanna shag ladies, bring them back to your apartment. I'm 100% sure your friend doesn't mind waiting in the hallway (or the bathroom as it was my case) until you've finished doing the dirty. P.s - don't ask them to join in if you think it could be sufficiently awkward in the morning when the lad/lady has left and you and your friend wake up with your arse cheeks stuck to one anothers and your panties hanging from the chandelier.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2VHMYM16z7n3VLCt666wo-KI5QL5Jo6gvYXKK4GCy4nJVnFtHDkvGWCiV0CVfzR1uOwgmjSaex85iIhlCpAIRFQc1FIJzMb4wyZQORMr-6jIMA0sapCplIamamSAI-gfPMsEe8clsUk0/s720/552575_4241882456206_711205978_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2VHMYM16z7n3VLCt666wo-KI5QL5Jo6gvYXKK4GCy4nJVnFtHDkvGWCiV0CVfzR1uOwgmjSaex85iIhlCpAIRFQc1FIJzMb4wyZQORMr-6jIMA0sapCplIamamSAI-gfPMsEe8clsUk0/s320/552575_4241882456206_711205978_n.jpg" width="238" /></a> 3. <b>Don't be fooled by the over-friendly Promo people</b><br />
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They're usually well fit, it's their job to lure you into buying shitty tickets, to shitty nights with their huge tits, small bikinis and charming smiles. Don't fall into their appealing traps, or their cleavages because that can also prove difficult trying to get out of.<br />
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4. <b>Booze cruises</b><br />
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Be prepare to suck off bananas, lick nipples, dance half naked, intimately dance with the overweight man in speedos and drink tabasco. <i>Super tip:</i> DO NOT DIVE OFF BOAT IF YOU CAN'T, YOU WILL DIE (of embarrassment as the whole boat and what will feel like the whole world will be watching).<br />
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<br />hhhhhhholahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13261662847815127412noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7237296807541351195.post-55811146358073815892013-06-27T03:31:00.000-07:002013-07-05T01:03:13.069-07:00Preparing yourself for the upcomingSo, for most it seems Summer has indefinitely started. Although the realms of education are still overhanging upon the shoulders of most, <b>the fun has arrived</b>. I have already found myself waking up, half an hour late for work, with the glorious sunshine peeking through the curtains and proceeding to grumpily shuffle over to shut out the day to save my poor little head from hurting any more; vodka shots with no hands only seems fun when you're dancing on the bar with the delightful lady dressed as a cat.<br />
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You need to be prepared for any situations your alcohol-influenced self has to throw at you, like squatting behind a lampost at 3am because it was more hilarious than necessary, please remember your friends have cameras. Surely a trip to the toilet cannot be that hard, if Bear Grylls can make a tent out of pubic hair or whatever he does these days, then this should be a breeze. Also, waking up to a hundred text messages from your Mother along the lines of '<i>WHAT IS THAT PICTURE OF YOU ON FACEBOOK?!' 'DO YOU KNOW HOW DANGEROUS AND UNLADYLIKE THAT IS, YOU COULD HAVE BEEN ARRESTED!</i>' is never really worth it.<br />
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However much it seems to be true, it is extremely important to remember that although tequila is your new best friend, you have not morphed into Beyonce, Lady Gaga or anything even remotely similar. In reality, with your hair slapped to your head and your mascara smeared across your face, you more resemble Jack Black after his final performance in School of Rock. After having someone approach me in a club and ask whether I was having a seizure, it seemed time to throw away my Beyonce dreams. Keep dance movements to a minimum, a little shimmy here and there and a casual 'I throw my hands up in the air sometimes..' has seemed to work a lot better than dropping to the floor to begin a new career as a member of Diversity. If you know you can do it, when drunk, then please by all means flaunt it.. But for the average drunken monkey, it isn't a fabulous idea.<br />
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8 weeks. That's a lot of days, even more hours and definitely more beer. Food is important, it seems even more so when you're the only one willing to venture to the takeaway and all your savage-like friends are waiting for you to bring back that lovely tray of doner meat to devour. But if you're on a week <i>slash</i> weekend <i>slash</i> 8 week bender, takeaways aren't gonna give you that bikini bod you want. Sometimes a big bowl of fruit for breakfast can give you the vitamins you need to feel slightly less like you've been squashed between SuBo's bum cheeks, and not make you pile on the pounds either!<br />
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Being in teenage years, we all find ourselves lodged in that fantastically unbalanced juggle of work and play. Play obviously being the more vital component to the cycle, as I've found myself many a time running out of work with my t-shirt over my head and knee skidding down the road in celebration whilst Katy Perry's 'fireworks' plays in my head. You look forward to being able to go and not have to sing on a street corner with your hat on the floor so you can afford a spray of perfume from the delightful toilet lady. But we all know how hard it is to drag yourself up and out when you've woken up in the arse-end of no where, with half of your dress on and spooning a bottle of whiskey.<br />
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<br />hhhhhhholahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13261662847815127412noreply@blogger.com0