The very thing you strive for ...
Sure, what about it?
That's what I hear 24 (nearly) hours a day, 5 days a week.
Right, so this is my first time living with lads of the legal drinking age. The custom on the weekends is to go to a pub, get legless there and then try to force your way into a club by leering at the bouncers unconvincingly.
Not if you're in college. You're usually too poor to drink anything besides Tesco value vodka and Biere D'Or (a.k.a. piss in a bottle).
I got fairly accustomed to having about 20 people from Waterford in my kitchen on a Tuesday and Thursday night (can't go out at the weekend, it's too expensive). Last Thursday was a biteen different.
They gathered at my house for the piss up, same as usual, and they got drunk and rowdy and left after about 11p.m. When they came home at 2:30, 3 o'clock I could even handle being woken.
It was when Brian and Con (from Macroom) came home at 5 that things got worse. Whatever they were on (it wasn't drink) they were running up and down the stairs like loons.
Gráinne (a girl in the house with me) said that she went into the kitchen and Brian was in there on his own in the dark, dancing.
At about 7 in the morning (I still hadn't had a wink of sleep) when things got really bad, the fire alarm suddenly went off. The security guards came and he said that someone had set fire to a door upstairs (Eoin's door). It was Brian. The kitchen was a mess with broken glass and eggs on the floor and walls.
I went to my lecture at 10 and a lad from reception came to give them an ultimatum. Either they cleaned it up, or it'd cost us €300 for a cleaning company. They cleaned.
They gave him Brian's name when he came back at around one. He gave us a big lecture about throwing him out (Brian had done a runner in the meantime).
Please tell me that this is par for the course for college!
Things were much better this week, to be fair. Con and Brian have even started cleaning up after themselves.
Eh ... discuss ...
That's what I hear 24 (nearly) hours a day, 5 days a week.
Right, so this is my first time living with lads of the legal drinking age. The custom on the weekends is to go to a pub, get legless there and then try to force your way into a club by leering at the bouncers unconvincingly.
Not if you're in college. You're usually too poor to drink anything besides Tesco value vodka and Biere D'Or (a.k.a. piss in a bottle).
I got fairly accustomed to having about 20 people from Waterford in my kitchen on a Tuesday and Thursday night (can't go out at the weekend, it's too expensive). Last Thursday was a biteen different.
They gathered at my house for the piss up, same as usual, and they got drunk and rowdy and left after about 11p.m. When they came home at 2:30, 3 o'clock I could even handle being woken.
It was when Brian and Con (from Macroom) came home at 5 that things got worse. Whatever they were on (it wasn't drink) they were running up and down the stairs like loons.
Gráinne (a girl in the house with me) said that she went into the kitchen and Brian was in there on his own in the dark, dancing.
At about 7 in the morning (I still hadn't had a wink of sleep) when things got really bad, the fire alarm suddenly went off. The security guards came and he said that someone had set fire to a door upstairs (Eoin's door). It was Brian. The kitchen was a mess with broken glass and eggs on the floor and walls.
I went to my lecture at 10 and a lad from reception came to give them an ultimatum. Either they cleaned it up, or it'd cost us €300 for a cleaning company. They cleaned.
They gave him Brian's name when he came back at around one. He gave us a big lecture about throwing him out (Brian had done a runner in the meantime).
Please tell me that this is par for the course for college!
Things were much better this week, to be fair. Con and Brian have even started cleaning up after themselves.
Eh ... discuss ...
... is the thing that makes you blind
