Collections are just so not a thing. Wearing a gown for a mock exam on a Saturday morning. What was that bullshit? The most frustrating thing about them though was that they made 0th week a hoon-free zone, you dedicated little so-and-so. But once you’d sat under the righteous glare of your sexually-frustrated junior dean for three hours and impishly skipped your way to a 2.1 by asserting that your question ‘presents a false dichotomy’, and the evening’s bop was rapidly approaching, it was time to prepare. You desperately posted on your JCR Facebook wall asking if anyone had a nun’s habit, feather boa or Luftwaffe jacket you could borrow for a costume tenuously linked to the week’s theme, and were concerned as that creepy, Virginia Tech-to-be physicist said he had all three.
Then it was time to pre-drink (or, if you’re a schweffe, pre-lash, or, if you’re an even bigger tool, simply ‘pre’). How did you go about it? Beer pong? Pah, ineffective. Too much skill involved, and a game in which your objective is to get everyone but yourself pissed seems like poor strategy. Ring of fire? Inanity in extremis. A game with more rules than the Exam Regs isn’t the way to prepare for a night of debauchery.
No, if you wanted to turn your pre-drinking into a game, then clearly the Oxford Mean Girls drinking game should have been, and should from now on be your port of call. Drink every time a woman degrades another woman. Drink every time a social minority is offensively stereotyped. Socially exclusive high school cliques rear their head? Oh you better believe that’s a drink. This game has two key plus points. One, it’s essentially ‘watch Mean Girls and drink throughout’. Two, you get to watch Mean Girls. Fetch! And off to the bop you go, to scream Regina George quotes in the face of unsuspecting international students. Just don’t ask them why, if they’re international, they’re white. You can’t just ask people why they’re white.