The rooms have been picked. The deed is done. Y was snapped up early, athough JC isn't in Y6 or O0, EM has to deal with JP's piss staining her sink, HR has PH's old crusty sheets, CB has continued his MH metamorphosis, RM will be dealing revs tickers in Newnham, JF took the cupboard under the stairs, XW took colleges smallest room for the second year in a row, and BC has the unfortunate reality of sharing a kitchen with MF next year as he transitions from cooking fish on a hob to cooking it in the microwave. Perhaps the last story of note was that some poor freshers have the long walk all the way to Barton Road. Not really anything funny to add on that one, thats just depressing. So, we meet our end. You have been the Romeo to my Juliet, the King to my Kong, and the playing music so loud in your earphones that everyone can hear your Taylor swift to my Taylor Library. Seriously, I don't know who the fuck it is right now but turn that shit off.
Only one thing left to say from Blogger HQ. Charlie Ranson sucks toes. Good night.
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