News

It’s not all happy families on Castle Street. And surprisingly the bad moods are not because of the Kronic ban, the dramas are being caused by a problem that is normally most troublesome in first year. Like drugs, flats for next year are being sussed on the low key. With dodgy dealing going down behind people’s backs, it’s becoming a bit like poking people on Facebook – awkward. Cabin fever is striking down whole flats and people are beginning to snap over the most petty of annoyances. It has been rumoured that full-on fisticuffs went down in one flat because someone bought Wattie’s baked beans, not Budget.

The snow was a great excuse for everyone to take two days off lectures but once that melted it was back to freezing flats and dwindling food supplies. Castle Street is clearing out in the weekends as all the shredders are heading off to tear up the dope pow pow, leaving me with limited materials as the muppet behaviour that we have become accustomed to on Saturday nights has toned down in recent weeks.
 
In other news, it’s official that the word “scarfie” has been changed from a noun to an unwanted adjective. The introductions of the puffer and tight jeans have successfully ousted the term. After overhearing a comment like “Doing your top button up pretty much does the same as wearing a scarf and bro it’s at least 40% more stiz”, it’s not hard to see how or why the piss-sinking, stubbie-wearing scarfies are quickly becoming extinct. As metros and NAGs (New Age Guys) take their place, the culture is obviously changing. But at the heart, it’s the same as it’s always been; living in shitty and overpriced flats, drinking too much and studying when we have too. We just need to think of a new name for ourselves.
 
Straying away from Castle Street the cuzzans up in the Boathouse haven’t let cabin fever get the better of them. Racking up an impressive thirty-three noise complaints this year, putting them dangerously close to eviction territory, they have had more than a few visits from the council. Hopefully it’s all plain sailing (cringe I know, but I’m getting desperate) for them for the rest of the year.
 
Well my banter has now deteriorated too below Selwyn level (worst case scenario) so I best be off. Once Castle Street gets over ‘that time of the month’, I’m sure I’ll be back to writing about orgies and raging parties. In the meantime, turn that frown upside down.