No drinking and Tickell memes? Predictions for second year at Sussex
“Perhaps I’ll unwind by watching ‘the footie’ with the lads down at East Slope, bathed in golden Fosters juice and the glory of my oiled beard-hair”
As spring approaches, many of us are reaching the end of our first year at university. Ahead of us is the great unknown of private housing and wild-west estate agencies. Perhaps, then, it is time to predict what might happen in our second years.
A time to stop partying, or a second chance to make some lasting friendships? As a fresher, this is what I predict will happen next semester.
The death of the sesh
Tragic though it sounds, I reckon we won’t have time to go out. At all. Whilst third years seem to balance work and play better than most, they have had an extra year to get their head around coursework and maintain some sort of basic routine. With the increased workload, can we possibly keep up with those Epik Wednesdays and Secret Discotheques?
Become hideously addicted to Grubbs
There’s no doubt about it, one of the greatest perks of living in Brighton will be the ease of access to burger joint extraordinaire – Grubbs.
This will inevitably leave many of us holed under their bubble-written sign, shaking at the prospect of a chicken and cheese hit, served with the slightly unsettling politeness of the staff. Worth Brighton’s overpriced housing alone.
Collapse under the weight of my hipster-gram game
Given the chance to spend a whole year immersed in the beauty of Brighton means only one thing. My Instagram feed is going to explode with pretentiousness. Filtered images of the “haunting” West Pier will be complimented by a celebration of the North Laine’s “ethnic vibes”, helpfully represented by a sodden falafel. Has anyone actually said anything original about this place? It’s enough to make your sandals quiver.
Rediscover my masculinity
Following a year of living solely with women, I am ready to toss aside my Cath Kidson attire, liberate myself from Tiger accessories, stop keeping up with the Kardashians, and bask in the glow of my inner testosterone. I could become a cage fighter, wrestle Brian Blessed within a blazing inferno or do both these things whilst gobbing into a pint of Red Stripe.
Perhaps I’ll unwind by watching ‘the footie’ with ‘the lads’ down at East Slope, bathed in golden Fosters juice and the glory of my oiled beard-hair. What an absolute nutter.
Be actively consumed by Alex Turner’s soul
With a penchant for Haunt Mondays and leather jackets, my obsession with all things indie will reach stratospheric levels over the coming semester. Whilst I’ve already predicted that second-year party gremlins are a dying breed, I will always make time for some alternative classics.
Given the amount of bars blasting out Tame Impala and Arctic Monkeys in the Lanes, I can only see it getting worse. In first year I offered an attempt at getting into chart music. Alas, I remain a Bieb sceptic, and find it difficult to ‘get down’ with Mr L. Bizzle. A leathery worm-hole has arisen, and there’s no going back.
Offer Brighton and Hove bendy buses some WD40
Seriously, why has no-one solved this? Those weird bendy parts in the middle are gratingly squeaky. As Ainsley fans would cry: it’s time to oil up.
Watch in awe as memes of Adam Tickell become the next big trend
Shooting stars. All Star. Adam Tickell…? Along with navigating his demanding day job, somebody once told me the Vice-Chancellor has somehow become the sharpest meme at Sussex. Quite how exactly no one seems to know, but they exist nevertheless. I will watch with interest to see where Sussex goes next.