Every boy you’ll date whilst at Bristol Uni
So many types of posh boys
Whether it’s a drunken one night stand or a serious long term relationship, it’s likely that you’ll encounter a male at some point during your three years here. However, at Bristol it seems like certain types crop up more often than others. Here is a definitive list of Bristol’s most notorious crème-de-la-crème of men…
The ‘cool’ posh boy
Makes up the vast majority of the male species at the University of Bristol. Chances are, you’ll coincide with this type many a time during your three years here.
Not lacking in quantity but defo lacking in substance. Only wears stupidly over-priced Hilfiger fleeces from Depop and walks round the ASS with a pre-rolled cig behind his ear at all times.
Studies Econ but SWEARS he doesn’t want to be banker. Loves getting ketty at funk and disco events. Has a helix piercing which nicely matches the silver tone of his century old signet ring and is basically the epitome of the Bristol Uni stereotype. Will probs break your heart.
Likely to say: “So peak, she lives in Maidstone and I live in T-Wells so it’s never gunna work.”
The rugby boy
Despite not once taking part in a sport at university, you and your friends decide to go to Sports Night. You tell each other it’s cos you want a fun night out with the gals, but … you’re lying.
As you are slowly herded out of the clubs’ darkness and into the bright and unforgiving lights of the smoking area, you finally see a glimpse of exactly what you came here for. A good few dozen pint-drinking, rugged-looking, navy and red fleece-clad men.
The rugby boys. Is this what heaven looks like? One too many jaeger bombs in and they all look exactly the same so you approach the first you see. After a bit of cliché sweet talk and some very dodgy grinding, he romantically whispers in your ear, "do you wanna come back to mine then?”. Says he will text you, never does. Repeat every Wednesday.
Likely to say: “Yeah we did slap each other’s face’s with our dicks but it’s not gay, it’s rugby.”
The ‘un-cool’ posh boy who thinks he’s still in the countryside
Shows up to your date in in a slim-fit Barbour jacket and poorly fitting beige cords. Kind of reminds you of your Dad, but not in an "oooo daddy" way. Says "yah" too much. Member of any of the following: shooting society, the polo team, the equestrian team, wine tasting society, economics/finance/banking society, conservative society.
Intellectually arrogant so rambles on about his favourite novel from a niche author literally no one has heard of. Think’s knowing the conservative party’s foreign policy is a substitute for a personality.
Likely to say: “I love that jacket you’re wearing, I hope it’s not faux fur.”
The private school boy turned ketty roadman
Similar to the cool posh boy, but just went a bit wrong along the way. They took trading their tweed for oversized puffers one step too far and now dress head to toe in Palace and Supreme.
Went to a small and quaint private school in a Dorset village but has decided that speaking like a roadman from East London is the way to go. Makes some shitty soundcloud DnB and thinks he’s Skepsis.
In Badock, obviously. You meet in Blue Mountain when he asks if you want to buy some of his sick Mitsubishi pills which he whips out of his Kappa bum bag. Will ultimately ditch you for the sesh and cba to give you attention cos of the permanent come downs.
Likely to say:“Yo my G what are you sayinnggggg, you’re such a sort.”
The arty boy
Studies liberal arts. Vegan. Plays 3 instruments: the guitar, the piano then something rogue like the bassoon cos he’s just so individual. Wears round silver framed glasses which aren’t real and rolls his baggy loud-patterned trousers up one notch too high, exposing his pulled-up socks with something super deep like "make pizza not war”.
Likely to say: “I was thinking we could maybe go to this really cool café I found in stokes croft. They serve organic soya coffee in avocado skins because they’re really against plastic use.”
The die-hard sports team member
NOT the same as the rugby boy. Rugby culture includes getting mashed and being a lad, meaning that they always have time for a cheeky chirpse. This boy is different. He’s probs a rower.
He swaps beers for protein shakes and spends every free hour working out. You won’t find him at sports night- he has a really important comp tomorrow and has to get up at 5 am for training. You argue about how he never has anytime for you, and he chastises you for trying to stop him from following his dreams.
Likely to say: “Are you seriously ordering another deliveroo? Do you know how much saturated fat is in that?”
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