Happy 17th birthday to the Cheese Grater Magazine I guess. When I was 17 I threw a bottle of scotch at a duck in a canal. Well karma is even more of a bitch than me because boy have I been feeling like an enraged duck of late. First and foremost Soc Bitch has big blue balls from the much antici- pated No Detriment Policy. Thank God for that extra 1% on the grade boundary – after all without being able to go campus and libraries, or have in person teaching, we’re only missing out on 1% of our degree. Soc Bitch would have used all five of her Extenuating Circumstances for a cray holiday but COVID says otherwise. She’ll just have to read about influenc- ers who needed to go to Bali for their ‘mental health’ and feel her summer days driftin away...
Like GoT, I have a network of ‘little birds’ surveying the tea ready to be spilt. However these birds are in lock- down so I’ve resorted to pigeons who don’t dish the same sensational stories. It’s all just coo this coo that. Ugh. Any- way I actually had something to dish but my ‘editor’ removed it because he ‘struggled with InDesign’, and it ‘wasn’t essential’. Well Soc Bitch don’t have time for this bs snaps finger with 00s sass.
Colour me Jackie Weaver because my authority has been righteously questioned. Where is all the gos- sip? Where is the drama? Literally – like I was hoping I’d have hit hit up Bloomsbury Theatre by now. Mean- while Musical Theatre Society have been unusually quiet. If their term 2 show is just another Zoom-fest and they’re singing showtunes from their acoustically challenged flats, we can defo expect a series of noise com- plaints from the cranky woman next door. (And yes I’m cranky how are my cats supposed to sleep with all this racket?!)