Cambridge’s Lonely Hearts
Struggling to find the one in Cam? He or she could be right here
If the cast of Geordie Shore taught us anything the other week, it is that we are probably not hooking up enough.
Swaps don’t work, Tinder is laughable and to be honest, we got into Cambridge because we preferred studying to embarrassing ourselves in front of the opposite sex.
Cantabs, help is at hand in the form of our new lonely hearts page. These guys and girls are looking for that special someone to fit them like linear interpolation ad infinitum or more crudely, a cock in a condom.
Max – Engineer
Looking for: A sturdily built woman, preferably with a low centre of gravity and a taste in wide based stable shoes. Good posture a must, with no lumbar weaknesses.
In my own words: Good looking and practical. I once forced management at my local Morisson’s to close so that I could fix the squeak in their automatic doors. Some mothers were trapped inside for five hours, but there was enough food and air for them to survive for at least another two. Not a fan of literature. My favourite film is Titanic.
Our first date: We would watch Titanic and I would point out the clear design flaws using the replica blueprints I bought on this website http://www.the-blueprints.com/search/titanic/. You may have some bodily imperfections, but I’m sure you heart works ok.
Amy – History of Art
Looking for: A man who wears tortoiseshell glasses and insists on only buying vintage clothes from charity shops in a market towns, somewhere near Surrey.
In my own words: For me appearance is everything. Every day I wake up and stare at my face in the mirror for a full ten minutes, looking into my eyes without blinking. Try it. It’s like seeing into your soul. Afterwards I go to my wardrobe and find out which one of my fifteen denim jackets I’ll wear today. I spend most of my time in the library, but get distracted when I see my own reflection in my MacBook Pro.
Our first date: On our first date we’d go and get frozen yogurt, then sit on a lawn and talk about what it means to be “Us”. Of course I’d eat none of the yogurt, but you get the picture.
George – Medic
Looking for: A women who likes a man with lots supervisions and sizable biceps brachii and pectoralis major.
In my own words: Being a medic I’m busy like the whole time. When I’m not cutting up bodies or bragging to bio natscis about how much harder my subject is, I’m playing blues rugby. Yeah I like to keep my body a temple, while my liver and dignity more like the sharps bin in Addenbrookes.
Our first date: On our first date I’d talk about myself and what I did last night for about a two hours, then I’d let you speak for a bit, then we’d get drunk and I’d take you to Cindie’s. I’ll probably get with a girl I went on a swap with two weeks ago, but because you like muscles and a man with job security, you’d stick around. X
Rosie – Maths
Looking for: A man who doesn’t do maths.
In my own words: I am the fabled fit mathmo. It’s hard being good looking and studying a subject where the students and fellows think a woman is a theoretical concept. Are beauty and brains that hard to come by?
Our first date: Our date would be like a Markov Chain: every action either of us do will then subsequently affect the probability of a subsequent action, which may eventually lead to sex. That unfortunate racist joke you will say, for example, will halve the probability of sex; spilling your drink would decrease your chances by a quarter and so on. If you come back to my place we’ll play strip chess, which will invariably result in me seeing your cock whilst the only flesh you see will be the soles of my feet. You are hardly going to be Deep Blue are you?
Quentin – Land Economy
Looking for: A girl who knows her way round an Aga.
In my own words: I basically know everyone. I am always well dressed and can tie a Windsor knot in my sleep. I play by the rules, speak the Queen’s English, will probably go to Sandhurst, and eventually shoot at people in a dessert somewhere.
Our first date: It would be dinner of course, followed by a bracing walk beneath the stars. I’d lend you my Barbour while we chat about our mutual acquaintances and then have light banter about which home county is better, or which minor public school we wouldn’t send our kids to. I’d walk you back to college, then write the time of our next date into my Moleskin diary. We’d awkwardly embrace and that would be that.
Email [email protected] if you think you’ve found the One.