That Game

Hello!

So, we're all moved into our new house in Lincoln, me and my three lovely housemates. Last night we had some wine and lasange and watched Ace Ventura and Dumb and Dumber (you guessed it, Jim Carey marathon).
One of the magical things about being at University is the games you invent to pass the time. Now, last year, when I was in halls, I WAS the game. My two male housemates made thier way through the first year barricading me in my room with chairs, putting leaves through my window to make 'a garden' and putting my game boy in the fridge to convince me I was going loopy. Oddly enough I still love those boys.

The game we've come up with is thus: we stick a condom on the fridge, and the first housemate to use it in sexual activity wins. The losers have to do a forfeit, which will probably end up being expensive and humiliating on my part. Me and one of my housemates also play another game, which has both made us cry with laughter and realise that we are probably pretty bad people at times.

Me and the housemate in question are both from the same place, and hang out at home, and mutually know a boy who happens to be unfortunate looking (however the thinks otherwise) and have invented a game revolving around this person. For the sake of identity, we'll call him James. The game is 'James Or..', in which me and my housemate present eachother with scenarios. For example, one went:

'James or Chlamidia?'
'...Chlamidia... you can get rid of that.. can't really get rid of James'

I know, its pretty terrible to say the least. We've come up with all sorts of agonizing scenarios. James or David Dickinson (Dickinson triumphed), James or Josef Fritzl, etc.

Trust me, its amusing when you're as sick as us and spend time treating yourself to crutons and flavoured lipgloss.

Tommorow we're going to head off to the Fresher's Fayre to steal many a wooden spatula and tinned foodstuffs.

I know, the stereotypical student lives. Viva la Cuppa Soup.

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