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 presents
:: Memoirs of a student house |
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 Ian's stories of life at 100 Portland Street, Lincoln, England WE LOVE YOU QVC   >>Paul
and Ian get cozy on the most uncomfortable gurniture in the worl, but at
least they have a ridculously big tv to watch.Many stupid things happened in the house, mainly due to the pressure of immense boredom. The majority, it has to be said, happened in the front room, where the 9th member of the Portland family lived...the TV. Now this was no ordinary television my friends, oh no, this was the best telly in the world, this set was the biggest TV that Radio Rentals had and we also had Cable. Now I am not a huge lover of Sky, Cable, Satellite etc television. I am in the frame of mind that we already have four channels of shit (five if you don't have a tree outside your bedroom window. DAMN YOUR EYES NATURE!) so we don't really need any more. This feeling was echoed and embraced by the other members of the Portland family, so watching the crap offerings on cable was seen as more of a comedy rather than anything else.  >>Ian
about to scamper off to Uni (note the lack of a smile)The one channel that cheered me up no end was QVC. Now, I am not one of these sad and pathetic losers that spends my day watching shopping channels, just waiting for that one, jewel encrusted, gold plated, Star Trek collectors box set of something that might or might not have been owned buy William Shatners’s brother’s girlfriend’s dog, or a handy gadget that will allow me to scratch my arse, make a milkshake AND wallpaper my front room. The thing about QVC is the sheer half-assed way that the programmes are put together. They are great, and being media students, they were a constant reminder that things are not SO bad that we have to work there! The best thing that I saw on QVC was this guy (who I grew to hate so much that I actually wanted him dead) trying to sell CD’s. It was after two in the morning and Dan and I were watching the last offerings of TV. It was coming to the end of his broadcast, and he tried to finish off with some cheesy/DJ/Fluff Freeman closing gambit. He leans forward over the table to deliver some pearl of wisdom, knocks over the whole display of CD’s, starts to crack up laughing, the cameraman thinks ‘Sod this lark, I should be in my bed’ puts the camera down on the floor and walks off. There is about 10 seconds of wires and all sorts of technical, behind the scenes stuff on the screen and then it goes dead. Fantastic, this is the future of television broadcasting. Long live the big fat bloke on QVC. |
EXERCISE,
PORTLAND STYLE As I remember it, the bike that lived in the hall was ridden on slightly more occasions than only the one time. Unfortunately, the meagre journeys it took were from the front door, along the hall to the kitchen and back again.  ^^Paul shows off his indoor bicycling skills Usually the insane bugger who was riding the death trap was singing (at the top of their voice) 'When will I, will I be famous' by Bros. Please, please do not ask me why, it was just one of those things to pass the time in the house that Jack built. (By the way, 'Jack' is a technically inept dick with no engineering qualifications and a penchant for damp walls and slugs!) For some reason, boredom was always a big factor in Portland Towers. It wasn't as if we had any lectures to attend. Oh no, god forbid, some bright spark had invented the ULH, the only education facility in the country which tried its hardest not to teach us. After all, where else would you find a Dean who invests money in a horse race (and not a dark room - which is stated as being available for use. ITS NOT BEEN SODDING BUILT!) and a lecturer who has NO, count them, NO teaching qualifications and has since appeared in court for the rape of a student. NICE! ‘Is this my university? Is it, cheers god!’ |
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