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By Agony Lad
We’re planning a lads’ tour round Oxford’s Libraries, recreating our summer trip to ‘Libiza’ (lads + Ibiza geddit?) Would you honour us with your presence?
You people make me sick – selling out to the university in shameless style and being herded back into the libraries. True lads don’t even have a bod card, having most likely swallowed it as an alternative to downing six VK’s as part of Agony Lad’s Monopolash: Oxford drinking game. Plus big dogs don’t go to Libiza any more – Zante has way more wasted 18-year olds. When you’re sitting in the Gladstone Link looking like a twat I hope you feel like one too.
I was recently involved in a tragic accident at Teddy Hall Ball, and now my heart (and penis) is broken. How do I learn to love again?
It’s been said that when you break a man’s member, you break his soul. But that’s a load of bollocks – real champions bounce right back, and get back out there. Play on your newfound notoriety as ‘that guy’, or, conversely, public sympathy for the disabled and the ladies will fall like dominoes – though keep an eye out for militant feminists/that guy who writes our sex column etc. Just remember to take an ibuprofen before you go out, and don’t try anything too fruity!
Dear Lad, ever since Camera’s got shit me and my girlfriends have been on the lookout for the hottest guys in Oxford. Where would they be found?
Sorry love, I’ve long been accustomed to cheap tricks to lure me into the public eye. Trinity term’s not great, with rugby finished, and you can play croquet over Agony Lad’s dead body (though I may just be passed out on the lawn.) Drinking societies (other then my own) are populated by wannabe lads desperate to get laid. Believe it or not, our much disparaged student union may well be the place to go – whenever Agony Lad goes into the OUSU building he feels rather emasculated, not to mention vaguely homoerotic.
Dear Agony Lad, I’ve been chasing this bird for ages, and I’m getting fed up with the “long game”. Unlike Man City, I don’t want it to go to the last game of the season – how do I get in her pants before prelims?
You’ve got the wrong idea mate – for many (non-lads) the joy is in the chase (though 44 years is a rather long time). However when it comes to love I do object to your focus on the “long game” – real lads at a college bop go from mind to grind in minutes. I think your ladyfriend is waiting for you to stop pussyfooting around (or she’s shagging your mate) and hit your ‘last gasp’ goal. Get your sub-fusc on and charm her red carnation.