Girls in Brighton seemed to have lowered their standards considerably lately, since a few seem to have consecutively thrown themselves at me the last time I was out. The clouds have cleared in the sky, so I dunno, maybe they’ve been staring at the sun a bit too long? Either way, I’ve been quite reluctant to leave the house since in case I’d break my streak of luck… and the stories I do have to tell are quite embarassing/disgusting so I’ll skip them for now.
I’d like to stop talking about my obsession with trying to get laid and sounding like a character out of an American teen flick and get back to how I say very stupid things sometimes. Last time I commented that I’m the end product of a (successful) rape attempt. I think I’ve topped it.

Right, so the student elections have come around again, in which we have to nominate some people to take up some silly positions to govern the student body. One of these positions is “Activities Officer” which sounds ridiculously easy, what with involving going around to clubs/pubs and telling them you will fill it full of students who have too much money to waste that they don’t actually have. You then get to sit in an office all day and get paid for doing nothing apart from appear to be over enthusiastic about everything, like a less colourful Sesame Street character.

Last year, a guy I’ll refer to as ‘Uglydickwad’ was elected. Unfortunatley, in 2008 he got a bit jealous that in the Summer when a big group of American students came to campus had taken a liking to me. On one occassion I made his very lame attempts at chatting up a few students fall flat on his face and expose him for the sleaze he is. The next Summer just gone, he made life pretty difficult for me by getting bouncers to refuse me entry to clubs, spread rumours that I’m some kind of rapist – which is apparently, now what my Dad is – and just generally be a big cunt.

So, since then my friends and I have mocked how INSANELY ugly this guy is. Like, amazingly. Circus ugly. Talented ugly. In a zoo ugly. We like to mock his very weird way of talking by reclining into chairs and acting like what some might call a “retard.” Of course, he’s not retarded… I think. We assume he’s just a very ugly, unfortunate person. Even by what you might call disabled standards.

So today, when voting opened I made it my mission to let everyone I know not to vote for Uglydickwad, because he’s a prick and a retard. As I told my friend about all this we walked through the campus bar, passing a voting booth. I took it upon myself to remind him once again, making sure to be extra loud about it so the room full of people would hear me express my hate for Uglydickwad.

“You should vote. But remember who you shouldn’t vote for… The retard.“

I suddenly stopped and remembered that someone else was running in the elections for a different position:

For fuck’s sake.