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February 26, 2018 | by  | in Opinion Shit Chat |
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Shit Chat

Strap the fuck in and hold onto your wigs because Shit Chat is back for another substance-fuelled shit-show of a year. For those of you who weren’t privy to the mess I was somehow allowed to publish in 2017, the writing of this column is more often than not facilitated by a bottle of Fat Bird ‘Red’ and a good old cry. Why pay to talk to a professional about your deeply flawed character when you can get inebriated, write a column, and expose yourself to a cosy 20,000 of your peers for free?

Heading into my fifth year of a three year degree, depending on how you look at it, I’m either an expert at navigating uni by this point or an absolute fucking amateur. Take that how you may, here’s my unsolicited and unqualified advice for getting through ‘the best years of your life’, aka the utter fucking horror ride that is university.

Buy a vibrator. Make sure it’s quiet and waterproof. Pining over a boy? Masturbate. Avoiding an assignment? Procrasturbate. Your vibrator will never send your nudes to a group chat called Da Boiz or reluctantly reciprocate oral for all of three minutes before asking if you’ve cum; your vibrator will never judge you for drinking Double Browns at 10am on a Tuesday instead of writing 1500 words about political theory. Your vibrator will never let you down.

Don’t buy a set of scales. Being in denial that your lifestyle choices are catching up with you is all well and good, until you buy a set of scales.

Master class in being granted extensions: 1) Unless you’re doing law, which by all accounts punishes any admission of humanity, just be honest. Shockingly enough, lecturers are pretty good at helping you out if only you ask nicely. 2) Contribute to every tutorial once, and well. Your tutor will be more willing to throw you a bone when you need it if you’ve exhibited a bare minimum of interest in what they have to say. 3) Build a rapport with the counsellors at student health. If like me you’re blessed to be both depressed and anxious, this will come in handy when you’re emailing your lecturer for an extension at 4am having come to the grand finale of your avoidance/panic essay writing cycle with absolutely nothing to show for yourself.

Sign up to Mauri Ora. There is literally no excuse not to get your bits checked regularly when there are doctors willing to look at them for free.

Don’t use your teeth. I don’t give two shits what Monique from your high school in Gore told you after googling ‘how to give good head,’ just imagine for a hot minute someone taking a cheese grater to your genitals, then retract your teeth all the way up into your gums.

Learn to say no. To people asking for your notes trying to capitalise on your hard work after they’ve put in absolutely no effort all semester, to the guy you don’t know telling you to pull your headphones out so he can hit on you while you’re sitting in the library minding your own damn business, to that last godfather shot at 3am in El Horno that’s gonna send you over the edge and inevitably home with your coworker. Learn to say no. You don’t owe people shit.

Most importantly, look after your friends. Figure out which are the good ones and hold them close, because they’re all that’s gonna get you through three to five years of bullshit group assignments, borderline substance dependency, malnutrition, exploitative landlords, and asshole men.

Love you, xoxo

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