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Sarcasm is the order of the day.
Firstly we are writing a column
in the newsroom because it is the homeland and as journalists this is the place we seek solitude. Secondly, and most
importantly, we are supposed to be editing our vox pops but some cunts are hogging all the editing suites and we cannot get
a look in, i.e Darragh and Chaz. The newsroom is a flurry of brains ticking over (obviously we are not part of it) but we
have however taken time out of our busy schedule to look on the Reuters website, which informs us of the Brits becoming a
platform for an Iraq protest. We say as long as it is more interesting than some random pouring water over John Prescott
and Jarvis Cocker sticking his arse in our faces then we dont mind, it would be a bonus if Justin Timberlake wants to stick
his arse in our a face.
Our predictions are that our social commentator, Ms Dynamite will bore us with an anti war
speech after cleaning up. The Streets are going to no show but will hopefully do us cockney types proud, and Luan dont
worry we will still be singing their praises, or songs for years to come. Of course while the stars will be supping champagne
backstage (and another substance beginning with C), the plebs up front will endure a marathon 4 hour session of NO BOOZE!
Whoops. We on the other hand will be celebrating in true student style in front of the idiot box with, and I quote, ''A few
herbs and a bit of Benson''. Mainly because we are skint.
I will have to admit that my financial problems stem from
the fact that I am a shopoholic, the only student in the world perhaps, that is able to spend £110 in House of Fraser in 5
MINUTES! Even worse is the fact that I only discovered the fact that I am capable of this whilst having my bank statement
examined by the student finance officer, needless to say he was less than happy to give me a loan, oh well, looks like its
back to the same old, so if anyone has seen my dad
Theresa also has to admit that her recent cash flow problems have
stemmed from a good old-fashioned love of the raz. It is times like this when we have to ask ourselves ou est la rent?
On
a happier note we would like to say that we dont actually care and it is after all, all fun and games, and if all fails we
must remember that last night after a particularly heavy raz (for Theresa anyway) Eduardo did offer to cook us dinner in the
beautiful Bunny Mansion and Gyl did offer his hand in marriage in true Happy Gilmore style, to every girl in the bar. There
is love in the world after all.
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