Sunday Roast is satirical and should not be taken as defamatory, nor does it reflect any political stance of the Oxford Student.
Rordon has felt rather removed from Oxford this week: unaware of his surroundings, like Boris at a party. The model bus fanatic said party-gate reports are a âload of nonsense,â a claim OxYou is familiar with. In Rordonâs biased reply, he states claims are often not nonsense. You need to distinguish fact from fiction meaning that, like into sauvignon blanc at Jamalâs, the penny dropped a lot this week. This ranged from restaurants to recitals, and he discovered that rowing is not all barbeques and bucket hats. He will still leave colourful costumes to the kilo sales. Enjoy your burnt roasts.
SUMMER EATS
Rordon went to what he can only assume was a food market on Saturday. âSummer eats,â he thinks a Scot called it. It was like freshersâ fair but instead of pens burnt hotdogs were given, and instead of free they were not. For ÂŁ3 you could get Pimmâs with fruit, Pimmâs without fruit, or a meat burger (meat not specified). You could get free lemonade if you spoke to Christians but Rordon thought that was unfair on non-drinkers who, famously, are Muslim. If you did not want to hear about your eternal damnation, the event had an outside radio that consisted of no music, but talk of appeals and crabs. Rordon assumes they were covering the new Little Mermaid. He noticed this, and the new Mario film, reflected in bucket hats. Aware this wasnât Cannes (too much sunburn, not enough snails), Rordon questioned the relevance of such dress-up. It was only when he saw the lycra beneath the hats that he started to realise.
DONâT WORRY DADDY
Clinton âthe father of Florenceâ Pugh disparaged Oxfordâs Low Traffic Neighbourhood (LTN (less Toyotas, now!)) scheme after his Cafe Tarifa got repossessed. He says placing bollards in the road is âdisruptive,â like stopping on the street or putting twigs inside your restaurant. Rordon is surprised there even was a traffic issue, considering all the park-and-riders and Oxford students without their driverâs license. Perhaps because of Rordonâs oblivion, Clinton lost his venue. He may not want to take handouts from his millionaire daughter, but at least he has that luxury.
STRUCK A CORD
Rordon found himself attending a classical musical snoozefest concert at the Sheldonian. It wasnât his idea either, but felt obliged to watch his friend perform after pushing his Sunday Roasts down everyoneâs throats all term. Rordon admitted to enjoying the concert though, not least due to energetic conducting. He was surprised at the amount of movement going on, as the violinists jerked their heads violently with every bow stroke. It wasnât only the physical movements that struck Rordon though, for he was gripped by the structural cohesiveness of Rachmaninovâs Symphony in particular.
âThe whole thing feels like itâs building to an orgasm but never quite getting there,â Rordon chuckles. âItâs the ultimate act of edging; just as you feel it should resolve, it slows down and then starts up again. It gives an entire new meaning to vibrato.â
The whole thing was a refreshing cool-down after the Band Night at Jesus College the previous day. Rordon couldn’t even get a drink there, with the bar seemingly understaffed. Classic Jesus, the music turned water into wine. It got everybody dancing (and sweating) before Rordon ended the night with a G-string in his hand. He says it did not belong to a violin.
THRIFT STORE
Out of toothpaste-stained Fila, Rordon went to a kilo sale this week. He notes buying clothes by the kilo as a good way to fight consumerism. Unsure as to which was menâs, Rordon just floated in the middle. He saw two shirts he liked: one was nicer, but one was Ralph Lauren. He opted for the latter, even though it was XXL and stank. He grabbed a couple of colourful shirts with BOP-potential and headed to the t-shirts. There, he found Fruit of the Loom, a stretched red Mickey Mouse top, an American Football team he had never heard of, more Fruit of the Loom and Macklemore. Unsure if this was freakinâ awesome, Rordon dropped all of the dead-people remains and headed for the exit. He got stopped, as security thought he had stolen his t-shirt. He was wearing poorly designed stash you wouldnât expect people to pay full-price (/anything) for. They offered him a fiver for it.
Image Description: A cartoon image of roasted meat on a red and orange background, with the words: âSunday Roast: Featuring the stories that didnât quite leave the newsroom.â