Which Peep Show character is your uni?
Chance would be a fine thing
Slipping in and out of Netflix’s catalogue with the same unnerving regularity you dive into your overdraft, Peep Show can often seem like you’re staring at a mirror. Every character seems to reflect a bit of you back at yourself.
Which one you truly are, though, is all down to your uni. You want to be Super Hans? Chance would be a fine thing – life is, after all, one continuous adjustment to loss.
Leeds – Super Hans
Everyone who goes to Leeds knows that big beats are the best, and will always regret not having the balls to put “get high all the time” as the killer first line of their personal statement.
They’re just intellectual enough to know what the Barchester Chronicles is – they’re doing a degree in ecclesiastical politics – and their post-uni plans are either an MBA or getting a van. Same thing really.
Most often found drinking craft beer (no logo on the foam) at the Swan & Paedo. That’s on the Otley Run, right?
Leeds Beckett – Greg, from British London Publishing
You mean well, but you’re just not all there. You don’t have any lofty ambitions because you’re studying Events Management, and if you tried to write an actual essay you’d probably misspell your own name, forget to put in margins and say you’re studying at Leeds Breckett.
Oxford – Robert Grayson
You’re mysterious, you’re high up and, yes, everybody wants to be you. Only you can say you’re Robert Grayson, though – and if the world were a bathroom shop, you’d be the boss.
Brookes – Mark
“I’m Robert Grayson” you confidently assert as you stride into your interview, only to get caught out instantly. “I go to uni in Oxford” isn’t fooling anyone.
Pretending to be something it’s not, whether it’s a socially functioning human or actual intellectual, Brookes students essentially had to switch from private to state school – think where they could be if not.
Drugs aren’t really your thing either. Pressured into doing coke once, you rebelled against the system you so deeply love. From that day forth you declared you would never stone alone.
UWE – Jez
“I didn’t go to university to get a degree”, that’s why Jez qualified as a Nurse. Like most at UWE, Jeremy’s nest egg allows him to do very little other than experiment with new reggae sounds and life coaching. The occasional show he secures at Thekla lasts for a few minutes before his inability to shake a maraca becomes apparent. It’s not all bad though, less time gigging means more time reading Mr Nice.
The Open University – Mark’s sister
Mark’s sister enigmatically dips in and out of our collective consciousness, as the Open University does when there is an advert for it on the TV and when there isn’t an advert for it on the TV. Trying to get with Jeremy out of desperation, the UWE man will eventually cave in and enroll following his expulsion for repeatedly pushing his landlord into the electrified walls of HMP Bristol.
Falmouth – Mark’s mum
Film studies. Three years. Dissertation on Chariots of Fire.
At the pub, they’ll tell you how they’ve just finished writing their second, groundbreaking play. It’s about a group of young people who are very sexually repressed, but become less and less repressed due to the influence of this wise, twinkly old Jamaican woman who leads them through a series of experiences. Me neither.
Royal Holloway – Saz
“Oiiii Marko, you got any cocaine?” So sounds the partying cry of Egham, an exotic place full of arseholed girls which is so far away from London it may as well be in Australia.
Cardiff – Jeff Heaney
One of the last bastions of true lad culture. It’s not hard to imagine Jeff barging past you in the Lash, VK in each hand, flashing you that shit-eating grin to let you know that he is now going to get served before you. Recognising him from your course in Revs smoking area, you’ll strike up a conversation with him, only for him to walk off with your lighter as he spots anything in a tight dress ascending the stairs to VIP.
In the men’s he’ll wink as he leaves the urinal, nudging you just enough for you to piss on yourself a bit, and refusing to pay the attendant for the generous splash of aftershave he’s taken. Cheer up, mate.
London Met – The clean shirt kids
“How did you get your shirt so clean?” They ask you, as they try to figure out what the dials on the washing machine mean.
Loughborough – Matt
Most of your time is spent in gyms, yelling “Can you take some more?” and “Do you want it?”, but that’s fair enough – you care about nothing beyond your abs, your sex life and how hard you can punch.
The people at better unis will make fun of you, make up stories about you. “Why are you saying this?” you’ll ask them, the pathetic, flabby worms.
Sheffield – Sophie’s brother
Please just stop trying to suck off Jeremy/every university that’s cooler than yours.
Southampton – Valerie
Everyone’s got their quirks. Sometimes that means having your own independent SU, others it means enjoying asphyxiation during sexual intercourse.
Bristol – Sophie
After some convincing, you took a pill in freshers and never looked back. Now you’re dragging your friends along to house nights and forcing Brown Bears and Foghorn Leghorns on them. You’ll still go out clubbing every now and again in your late 30s to try and recapture the glory days, but the closest you’ll really get is sparking up a fat one on the work stairs with Jeff.
Like all Bristol girls, you come from money. Your dad hates all your boyfriends, but offers to let you stay in Nana’s cottage just so you don’t have to make your own way. If you date her, you’ll try to fit in and go shooting with her dad only to fuck it up by ripping the head off a pheasant.
Lancaster – Baby Ian
Nobody really knows who you belong to. Are you from the Russell Group? Are you near Manchester? Sheffield? Newcastle?
Yes, you’re decidedly above average, but you’ll just get left crying on the floor at a Christmas party.
Newcastle – Elena
As daddy’s ambition for you to work in Human Rights Law faded, the number of ounces of cannabis on sale in your Castle Leazes flat grew.
Nottingham – Danny Dyer’s Chocolate Homunculus
Much like a graduate from Nottingham, Danny Dyer’s Chocolate Homunculus are going nowhere fast. Still, you’ve got your zoot suits to help you cope with the obscurity.
UEA – Gerard
“Hey Jeremy… UEA have banned sombreros”
“Bloody hell. That is so UEA”
Sussex – Nancy
Ruthlessly breaking every taboo is the name of the game here. Drugs, and sex, and more, weirder sex, but can you break the final taboo? Not telling anyone you’re a vegan.
Found flailing their body around to some certified rainbow rhythms, Sussex are out there and loving life, spouting whatever spiritual nonsense is necessary to justify their ludicrous behaviour.
Bangor – Pej
You’ve heard of it but you’ve never actually seen it.
Surrey – Gog
Ah yes, they mock now, but boring old Surrey is going to go far. Choosing to spend your formative years in Guildford whilst both your other friends party it up in places with more than two clubs to choose from gives you that determination to show them. Crunchy Nut is pretty expensive, if I recall, but you’ll be able to afford it when the Honda money comes in.
One day you’ll be hiring, firing and perspiring. When they come grovelling, you’ll never let them quite live it down. Sure, they can work for you, but they’ll be in a constant state of limbo over whether you actually want them to get you a kebab.
Johnson – LSE
One question: do you wanna make shedloads of freakin’ money? Then come to LSE! You are literally the embodiment of Business, the big man, here in the big city to make the students of King’s and UCL and Imperial feel like the turkey fuckers they are.
You’ll end up working at KPMG – it’s no Consultio/Consultius, but it’ll do. Just remember the golden rule: “In, fire thirty per cent of the workforce, new logo…boom. You’re now a management consultant.”
Edinburgh – Toni
Enjoying skiing holidays, pyramid selling and casual sex with your flatmates. Wait, isn’t that Tony?
Glasgow – Tony
You love Toni a little too much.
Cambridge – Angus
Haughty, aloof, and inescapably intellectual. At 21, you’ve already planned out a History of the Byzantine Church for the general reader. It’ll shit all over John Julius Norwich’s so-called History of Byzantium.
Eventually, the relentless academic pressure will all get too much. Between all those mediocre mixed doubles matches and colonoscopies that pass for fun in Cambridge, you’ll end up moving to a monastery in Turkey to find yourself.
UCL – Zahra
UCL students are sophisticated and intellectual. They’ll try to talk to you about books; they’ll expect you to know who Francois Truffaut is. You will never know what that means.
King’s – Ben
UCL’s less interesting boyfriend. No matter how much of a bloody good bloke you apparently are, a conversation about politics with you is like trying to speak to someone in a coma. Hey, at least you’re a music fan.
UAL – Big Mad Andy
Sure, make out like you’re a carefree, drink-lager-on-the-job, unbreakable type, but we all know the reality. Being surrounded by paint all the time has brought out your sensitive side, and as each deadline rears its ugly head nobody is immune from the traditional termly breakdown.
As you eventually run out of ideas, you’ll end up getting willingly beaten in a garage for your final piece. It’s performance art!
Liverpool – Dobby
Sort of cool, but not quite. Describing yourself as quirky isn’t enough to skirt around your weirdness. Yes, you smoke a few joints, relish cous-cous, and try to go interrailing but you do bring your own block of cheese to uni every day.
Not afraid to stand up to authority, the jury’s out on whether you are in fact a manimal or a flanimal.
QUB – Paula
Are you in the Russell Group or not? Maybe it’s your half-sister UUJ.
St Andrews – Judas written in meat
It means omertà.
Warwick – Mummy
If you tell someone you’re at Warwick, spending your nights in Duke and Kelsey’s, you’re going to get roasted.
Exeter – April
This is as close as you will ever get to Darty. The adventurous streak of one night stands under Betty Blue posters after TP will quickly get ironed out of you. Your clever, weird and a bit plain vibe will see you doing coke in the firehouse with a stranger, before going back to Holland Hall where they’ll throw mum’s iPad out of the window.
Canterbury Christ Church University – Stu
The hunk of monk, one day you might get into big school.
Durham – Big Suze
Durham is posh. Big Suze is posh. LSE dumped you to look for someone more subservient on the internet, and you hated that time your mates roped you into trying shrooms in Thailand.
USW – Project Zeus
Why can’t the University of Glamorgan be an arm of the University of Wales, Newport?
With help from Oli Dugmore, Bobby Palmer and Tom Jenkin
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