We thought of excuses for missing your Glasgow tutorials so you don’t have to

The Boyd Orr is a million miles away though


We’ve all missed or turned up late to a tutorial at Glasgow Uni. When confronted with the dreaded question, “What was your reason?”, spat at you from that worse-than-boring tutor who you despise, usually your brain dries up and any last-minute excuse you’ve thought of evaporates on the spot.

Have no fear – we’ve come up with an array of completely valid, totally logical excuses which will take you straight from the bad books and en route to a first-class degree. Well, maybe.

It’s up to your unsuspecting tutors to decide whether you’re telling the truth or not. Let the odds be forever in their favour.

The Glaswegian weather

Your first thoughts when you wake up is that your room is baltic, yet your bed is like a caterpillar’s cocoon. Why on earth would you want to get out of it? You then look outside and, to your dismay, realise that in typical Glasgow style the rain is horizontal and you can barely see the tower of the Main Building in the deluge. Your excuses are: your less-than-practical rain jacket would not have sufficed to keep you dry, you forgot your umbrella so had to traipse all the way back to Murano to get it, and you were scared the hurricane winds would blow you away. Totally reasonable.

Looks sunny but it's freezing

Looks sunny but it’s freezing

You have the Viper hangover from hell

We’ve all been there – one-too-many vodka cranberries in Viper the night before and now you find yourself immobile, curled up in a ball of shame and self-loathing and smelling like a sweaty Dragon Soop distillery. It’s not really a good excuse and one that your tutor will take lightly but at least you’re being honest when you say you missed the seminar because a) you looked disgusting, b) the outside world of Glasgow seemed impossible to face, c) your brain felt a bit like a scrambled egg and d) you found yourself unable to take yourself to your own kitchen to get food, let alone walk to the St Andrew’s building.

Not even these bad boys can sort you out

Not even these bad boys can sort you out

Last-minute room changes

Seriously? You manage to valiantly drag yourself out of bed at an ungodly hour. You trudge the whole way to Boyd Orr through the rain. You walk through the door only to find an empty lecture theatre apart from four other confused, bleary eyed faces. Panic stricken, you frantically log in to MyCampus where your familiar fear is confirmed. They’ve done it again. They’ve changed the fucking room. They could’ve told us last night. I’m going home.

Not today Satan

Not today Satan

Food poisoning

Why didn’t you make your 9am this morning? Chicken, fucking chicken. It breaks your heart to say this but you’ve been betrayed by your number one bird. One minute you were cramming a glorious homemade, Instagram worthy chicken burger down your gullet – the next you’re spewing my ringer with nobody to blame but yourself. Tomorrow, you’re buying a food thermometer. Promise.

I love you but why you do this

I love you but why you do this

You got lost

For fuck sake – not again. You’re wandering around what you think is the right building but nothing looks familiar. All the doors are the same. It’s like Inception. You’re either still drunk from last night or someone has a very dour taste in blue paint. You could be in a different country, let alone in the Main Building of Glasgow Uni. Unsurprisingly, you give up after a “good ten minutes” of searching (make that two) and saunter off to Gregg’s Gibson Street where a steak bake is calling your name to nurture your poor, lost soul.

WHERE AM I

WHERE AM I

The ‘I don’t even have an excuse but do I look like I care’ approach

You always make plans to make the lectures no matter what time it is in the morning. Yet, when you’re lying in bed with no shoes to be found, Oreo ice cream cookies in the freezer, and a tasty, cheesy Domino’s lying on your chest with Spotify’s hangover playlist playing on repeat, the decision has already been made for you. Sorry. Kind of.

Just past caring

Just past caring

They post all the lectures on Moodle

Ah, thank God for the invention that is Moodle. As you set your five alarms the night before, you know in your heart there is no way you will manage to haul your ass out of your bed in the morning because they put it all on MyCampus. You wake up – you’re still drunk, you’re hungry. Why would you ever leave your flat to witness a tutor read out the exact slide which you can access from the comfort of your bed? As you drift back to sleep, you dream sweetly of the readily available online lecture notes which you will definitely look at tomorrow…

Marry me Moodle

Marry me Moodle