Sunday Roast is satirical and should not be taken as defamatory, nor does it reflect any political stance of the Oxford Student.

This week was time to shine for the very people you dreaded meeting at Oxford. The most insufferable among us were jet-setting at the Casino Royale Ball; but instead of throwing villainous private bankers off roofs, attendees could be found hiding in the bathroom and desperately searching Facebook for the names of everyone they’ve forgotten. A big week for journos’, our Editors were busy covering the unimportant stuff whilst Rordon was sent to review an OUDS’s dramatization of David Cameron’s autobiography. Rordon’s considering leaking his own texts if it means he has a chance of making front page for once.

Democracy n Chill?

Sneaky link is out, Sneaky Slate is in. This week we got to all witness that one person who follows you on Instagram battle it out at the polls with that other person who follows you on Instagram. Emerging victorious in the more important pizza race, All Souls have announced they will donate their hard-won election pizza to the Police Officers body-slamming protestors outside of their gates. Sadly, democracy is not infallible even at the most irrelevant Student’s Union level, as one campaign classlessly approved an endorsement on the vote of “almost all the committee members if you exclude the ones living within walking distance of a Waitrose”. The President Elect could neither confirm nor deny the existence of a Secret Slate which meets up to say mean things about you, and OxStu is graciously leaving the role of speculator to our competitor.

Our Condolences

OxYou is deeply saddened by the news that Kings Charles has been diagnosed with cancer merely hours after meeting with Cambridge students. Naturally, Meghan Markle can be considered at undisputed fault for this latest befoulment. Royal commentators have said the King is rejecting the traditional route of chemotherapy, and instead the finest Witchdoctors of the Colonies have been summoned. The King cited his long admiration for cancer charities as he prepared for this latest health journey. After all, what’s more humbling and human than being helicoptered out of your ancestral estate to see a doctor who probably won’t tell you to just consider Mindfulness? As Buckingham Palace Twitter was gearing up for a Prince William soft-launch, Harry was only allowed to visit for 30 minutes because his uncanny resemblance to the King’s ex wife made his blood pressure spike.

Rordon does Halfway Hall

The stars shine bright as the students awkwardly file into the dining hall. Everyone is wearing their glad rags, Rordon included (although he doesn’t see why shirts have to be so damn itchy, why does Moss Bross want him to sweat???). Those who neeked away last year strut past the crowd, their long gowns and ample sleeves billowing in the wind. You can always tell, Rordon thinks to himself, who only scraped past on a 68, as they seem to puff out their chests the most. He stares at a particularly smug (and short) ginger fellow. Oh, how Rordon looks forward to seeing what the group of ‘popular’ people (exhibitionists who treat the JCR like their own personal livings rooms) are currently fighting about. Oh, lookie! They must be trying to kick that girl out of their group, he thinks, as one of his fellow collegiates goes up to the front to collect her certificate for ‘Most likely to get hospitalised at Plush after doing too many poppers!’. What a night!