It’s a time for celebration – Rordon’s DMs have been extremely full this week, and apparently something happened to do with a ‘platty joobs’ (Rordon’s not quite hip enough to understand what that means, but he’s told it’s a good thing. Pete in the local Spoons said it was anyway.)



Rordon doesn’t usually talk about his love life, but his readers might be interested to know that he spent Hilary entangled in a passionate whirlwind relationship via text with a certain Rachel. Rordon felt himself to be in love, and the feeling seemed to be reciprocated – she had even told him she wanted to see him at a certain Oxford club tonight! – but alas, when the end of term came, she dropped off the face of the earth entirely. After spending the Easter vac sobbing listening to Red (Taylor’s Version) and sending her far too many drunk messages at 2am that sadly (or maybe fortunately) remained unread, Rordon is finally moving on from All Too Well (10 Minute Version) to beginning to relate more to Begin Again. What has caused this drastic change? The arrival of a new person in his DMs – a Mr P. End. 

Having first received a text at the end of April in which he was tantalisingly wished a ‘great week’, Rordon tried not to get his hopes up too much, for fear of a repeat of the Rachel situation. But to his great surprise, Mr P. End seemingly can’t get enough of our favourite Roast writer, and slid in once more this week to alert him to the fact that club tickets for Week 8 are ‘selling quick!!!’. Rordon isn’t stupid – he knows this is a not-so-subtle hint to go out so that he can accidentally bump into Mr End on the cheese floor and dance the night away to the dulcet tones of ABBA’s Greatest Hits interspersed with ‘Come on, Eileen’ and ‘Sweet Caroline’. It looks like he’ll be having a Hot Girl Trinity after all. 



Once a term, Rordon suddenly goes through a spurt of popularity. Presumably because enough people have read Rordon’s Roasts by this point in the term, he suddenly finds himself swamped by people desperate to go out for a coffee with him. People he’s never met before but who have 349 mutual friends on Facebook suddenly pop up on messenger with a little message that invariably involves far too many exclamation marks. Rordon’s only wish for this year is that they’ll stay friends past seventh week. The last few times it’s happened Rordon has been left feeling a little miffed; he went for a nice coffee, but then several of his new friends dragged him to a funny old building and made him stand in a queue and tick boxes before hurriedly disappearing. Rordon just can’t seem to hack it.



News has been spreading like wildfire across our university city this weekend that the Queen is, in fact, still alive, and, what’s more, still Queen. Students across Oxford have been left astounded by this discovery, which naturally calls for a four day national holiday and countless celebrations of our glorious monarchy that has never caused a single controversy. Although Oxford students will not be benefiting from this bank holiday, as the university frowns upon taking any sort of a break (even one to celebrate something old and aggressively British), there have been numerous college festivities this week, in which more money is invested into free Union-Jack-shaped chocolate than has ever been put towards students’ welfare. Rordon looks forward to the next time the country realises the Queen has been Queen for quite a long time.


Please note: Sunday Roast is satirical and should not be taken as defamatory.

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