I've got three types of stubby beers lined up for tomorrow evening, four if you count the mini fat Red Stripe bottles I found on sale in Leysdown.  Tesco Biere D'or still winning the taste + value test, can't be beaten if finished within 5 minutes of leaving the fridge.

I had an IPA session for the Eurovision evening a few weeks ago.  Probably the best night in I've had for ages, and I enjoy all my nights in.

Just saw Razorlight and Jonny Borrell at the airport ... one of them actually walked through the airport with an unlight hand rolled cigarette in his mouth. Utter Twats.

You'll be fine. University is ultimately all about how you personally developed and grew, and what you learned, rather than an arbitrary figure on a piece of paper.

What else have you taken from the experience?

For me it was quite odd. I decided to go to uni so I could get more money, but by the end of it I found myself caring about money much less.

g.man wrote:

You'll be fine. University is ultimately all about how you personally developed and grew, and what you learned, rather than an arbitrary figure on a piece of paper.

QFT

poprock wrote:

I also think their marketing is for wankers and that their management team are all weapons-grade arseholes … (Oh yeah – and their pub interiors are uninspiring derivative wanker hives too.)

I won't disagree with any of that.

I don't think anyone has asked what my degree was since about a week after I graduated. People want to know what you studied, what that actually means, and where you studied it (purely for flavour, occasionally for prejudice).

Glasgow is a tough mother for sure but their f&TV dpt is second only to Warwick - the name carries heft. And Garwood.

Greggs is hiring

Sounds mean. Don't be mean, Unlikely.

Don't interrupt.

Congrats Temps.

It's a bit of both. Many employers just want a graduate. Obviously certain subjects imply competency in certain areas.

Fam them if anyone ever passes this pub (Frantic prob has) I live directly across the road from it:



Dirt cheap pint (we talking in the two pound range London wankers), full of dossers (expect two to three mobility scooters on the reg) and the constant whiff of piss. Fucking mega as go with £20, get hammered out ya nut, buy drugs if you desire as loads of dealers hang there, then cross the road, stagger home.

From the perspective of being in that grandiose pub garden you've the best chippy in town to the right, a deceptively shit but filthy when pissed Chinese slightly opposite to the left, and a corner shop with a cashier called Javid (aka THE DON) who has eyes that go in completely opposite directions (one eye on the titties, one eye on the bombs) about 30 seconds from where I live and they do a mean, mean line in Rustlers and Chicago Town mini pizzas.

LADS SHOW ME YOUR LOCALS

EDIT: Ah shit just noticed the burger van, he does a cracking line in ASDA bought chicken, burgers, chips, hot dogs and grease served up to you at extortionate prices which match your alcie haze. I got a chicken box once and almost vomited. £4.50. The couple near entrance are tucking right in, regretting it later.

Here's THE chippy:



Absolute death incarnate

Price of pint?

I'm gonna keep a list.