The one breathing space in the week – between handing in my weekly essay and Supervision tomorrow – and consequently a perfect time to blog. I’m just committed the intellectual version of gym membership, paying an absence amount of money for lifetime membership of The Cambridge Union Society and hoping that this outlay will encourage me to go. Although I really shouldn’t need much prompting, with an incredible array of speakers and debates to tempt me over three years.
On the topic of extravagant spending, or not, I’d like to take a moment to evangelise the McFlurry. Despite claims to the contrary, a McFlurry is a truly wondrous piece of design – not just for the food – but, I think, for the spoon. After being lured into the bright lights of McDonald’s last night to buy one, I was reunited with the big, thick, square spoon you get with a McFlurry. It’s a power spoon. You don’t peck at a McFlurry, you eat it boldly, griping the spoon \ shovel as required. No-one could argue that masculinity was ever in crisis when we still have the McFlurry.
(Try not to take the above too seriously, yeah?)
Tonight I’m going out to celebrate Yang’s birthday. Happy birthday Yang! He lives down my hall and is currently drowning in medical textbooks which are each the size of a hefty child. While I’m on my cherished Monday afternoon, hehe.