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January is back. With vengeance.

January is all like ‘oh hey! Hey Han (January feels comfortable with nicknames – January is a cocky bitch that way) Remember me? I’m December’s older shittier stepbrother. Han. I’ve got some treats for you this month…’

January begins with a hangover.

My January begins with me throwing up peach snaps and chilli con carne. So. ‘This my life.’ I thought, as I wiped a kidney bean from the toilet seat.

I return to university.

This is a bittersweet time. On the one hand, I get to go back to University. I am reunited with my creative counterparts, the uni Bant-taaah ensues. I go back to leaving wet towels on my bed, without a parent screaming: ‘YOU ARE NEARLY 20 YEARS OLD, WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM WITH CLEANLINESS’. I instead return to my flatmates, ‘Hey han, just, er, don’t want to be that girl. But it’s just, erm, could you, like, if you don’t mind, perhaps, you know, clean your stuff?’ They are so polite and sweet; unlike my parents. *raises fist, shakes repeatedly in to air ‘Bloody parents, always trying to teach me manners’*

Student Loan returns

‘JAEGER BOMBS ON ME – YO TO THE FUCKING LO – STUDENT LOAN BABY’ shouts a guy at a bar. Somewhere. I assume. A guy at bar has never offered me a jagerbomb. But anyway, My loan arrives. Life is good.

Housing woes

But then I have to place a deposit on a house, and those drinks don’t pay for themselves. Bye student loan. It was fun while it lasted.

New Years Resolutions

Who the fuck invented New Years resolutions? Some condescending do-gooder, who loves to boast, and fucking loved the gym, and connected their stupid Nike sport app thing to twitter. Good for you, you ran 2K before 8AM. Well I can do that too. I can do good. I bought Davina McCall’s new DVD. And that new sports bra. Those trainers practically paid for themselves. So like, whatever. I don’t care. I have an overdraft for a reason. It’s quite cold in January. Is that rain? I might, just stay in tonight. I’ve set my alarm for 6 AM, so tomorrow. I promise tomorrow. Tomorrow is the day I run. As Annie the friendly ginger orphan bet her bottom dollar, there will be sun tomorrow.

Dissertation question deadline

Oh yeah. That’s a thing apparently.

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Oh Hey January

Aside
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Why I go to University, and why Boris Johnson is the biggest Joker of them all.

I am a student currently studying politics at university. I am also a woman. I assume you’re shocked at the last sentence. A woman at university? Ludicrous. I thought you’d be chained to a kitchen, making your boyfriend a sandwich (A gaggle of UNI lads will snigger, yeah, bitch, make me a sandwich.) No no, It’s weird. I chose to come to university, because, sorry, this is going to sound a bit bizarre… I like to study, I am passionate about my course, and I would like to advance my career opportunities. 

I know what you’re thinking: is this broad for real?

Or you’re thinking; why are you being so heavily sarcastic, of course I’m not surprised you go to university, of course those are fantastic legitimate reasons why you would choose to go to university, who in 2013 would think otherwise?

Well, it would be Britain’s bashful, boastful, posho, sexist, mayor of London: Boris Johnson.

Mr Boris Johnson suggested that female university students “have got to find men to marry”, and that, incidentally, was the reason why 68% women study within Malaysian Universities. (http://www.guardian.co.uk/politics/2013/jul/08/boris-johnson-women-university-husband

The worst bit of Boris’ statement was that it was meant as a joke.

What is a joke? What is a hilarious, genuinely funny piece of material and what is, at best; a poor, excruciatingly painful sexist comment, disguised under the premise of a joke? Because recently, the humble joke has become a ‘get out of jail free card’ for people who can’t actually tell jokes, or were ever blessed with a sense of humour, but they do enjoy a good old kitchen/sandwich/get a husband  gender based comment. This is fine. If you enjoy laughing at men eating sandwiches which a female has prepared for them, then please, laugh until your heart is content. But strangely, that is not how people react. If I were to challenge this kind of ‘joke’, I know the exact reaction I would receive ‘it was a joke. Can you not take a joke?’ It will be my sense of humour that will be judged and not their own. I’m sure the filthy word ‘feminist’ will be spat out also, probably as an insult. Which is fine also.  As I am not the one laughing at the prospect of a high rate of female students enrolling in university to simply find a husband. What annoys me, is that imagine if Boris had said ‘oh these boys, all in university to find a wife’… which is not funny. No one is laughing at that statement. Imagine if a male comedian came up on stage and his first line was “Girls: At university to find a husband” I would hope he would be booed off stage, or at least, I would hope no one would laugh. But people are laughing. Because women are still the punchline of the joke. Or should I say the punchline of an excruciatingly painful sexist comment, disguised under the premise of a joke. And people like Boris are still in positions of power, making these ‘jokes’.

 

 

 

 

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