I really did think I had it all planned out yesterday. I’d go do a debate for the UCL law faculty against KCL law faculty, go for the UCL Debating Society Monday night debate after that, and then get home in time for the Goodness Gracious Me special, a late dinner, and then tackling of the study deficit.
You know what they say about the best laid plans.
The annual UCL/KCL mudwrestle went well. During the course of my speech, I said the prime entry criteria for admission into Kings was fellatio ability, called one of the male speakers sexually incapable, and the other a walking vibrator advertisement. We won. :)
I then made the mistake of walking into the Debating Society debate “This House Believes That A Woman’s Intelligence Is Proportional To The Length Of Her Skirt” wearing the rather short one that I’d been wearing at the earlier debate, where we were all in suits. The usual wisecracks followed.
After the debate the planned TV dinner and studying suddenly sounded far less of an attractive proposition than an excursion to Flutes, which is a great wine bar on Goodge Street. The next thing I knew, it was a rather unearthly hour, the wine had flowed a bit too freely, and delving into the intricacies of personal injury litigation was distinctly unappealing, as well as pretty much impossible.