Pongin

Alright, before I go into anything else, I want to let you know how I was awakened this morning. I was nice and warm and comfortable in my bed when the fucking fire alarm goes off. Fuck that shit. It was 7am and I didn't have class until 11. Bullshit. I lay in bed for a few seconds before I realized that it wasn't just going to stop, so I got up pulled on a sweatshirt and some shoes. I've got to say though, I'm glad I keep my keys hanging on the door otherwise I would have forgotten them and been locked out at 7am.


Anyway, in better news, my friend Patrick and I taught two of our European friends, Jacques and Jake, how to play beer pong like true collar-popping frat boys. We couldn't find red solo cups, that seems to be pure American culture that hasn't yet infiltrated the UK. We were able to sweet talk one of the porters into giving us a couple ping-pong balls. The conversation was something like this:
Patrick: Hey, how do you go about borrowing table tennis balls?
Porter: Well, you leave your keys and i.d. card and when you bring back the paddles and ball, we give you back your things.
Patrick: Oh, well, ah...how many ping-pong balls do you have? Is there any chance of buying some from you?
Porter: What do you need them for?
Patrick: Well, we're going to-
Porter: (interrupts) Never mind, I don't want to know. Here, have two. Don't tell me.
Patrick: Thanks!

It was awesome. Here are a few highlights:


Jacques drinking from the goblet of FIRE!


Patrick and Jake. True frat boys at heart.


Timed group picture with bad lighting. stupid fluorescents.


In other news, I have plans to hit up Edinburgh this weekend and Dublin with Mavv for the first weekend in December. More to follow!