Karma Police

First of all; excuse me for any mistakes in this post. I am slightly drunk and I have no charger for my laptop so won't be able to change any mistakes until I get back onto the internet.

I finished all my labs and lectures today. By the time i'd got round to writing up all my reports and getting them marked I'd just had enough.
Just mark what i've written down.
But you have hardly any product in this assignment.
Seriously, I don't care, take marks off me, I just want to get these marked so I don't have to come in this afternoon.
At this point the lab demonstrator, a post-graduate who was standing near, laughed. The same guy who said to me earlier:
Woah! your quiff's got bigger.
If anything it needs to get bigger than it is. In fact i'm going to get it so big I can fold it back onto itself and put it into a ponytail.

4pm
The police finally caught up with me 2 days ago so i'm in the police station reception waiting for Julie to come down to get me to make a statement, and a male police officer walks in:
Which one of you has been smoking weed?
Keep in mind that there is another gentleman in the reception with me wearing tracksuit bottoms and a nike sleeveless sports shirt, looking totally fucked and like he hasn't worked a day in his life.
So I presume the officer is joking; and I laugh. But he actually starts walking towards me.
Well it's not me. Are you actually being serious?
He walks towards the other young gentleman and takes a nice whiff of him.
At this point Julie arrives and takes me off to a very small room with 4 chairs, an electric fan, and telephone, and no windows, which I find confusing.
So I give my statement to the witness statement officer, who spells 'assaulted' wrong, and spends no less than 60 seconds trying to figure out a way of describing a bin, settling on 'a permanent city centre bin'. Seriously woman, just leave me and i'll fill this form in myself while you have a cup of tea and talk about your favourite Britain's Got Talent contestant, you stupid cunt.

Cut to 4 hours later and I've been persuaded to go out for a relatively close friend's birthday in an awful place. We're at her house, and her actual friends have been bitching about her for giving them a list of dresses to choose from for her birthday. My housemate is one of these friends and although providing money for said dress, has no idea which one it is. Birthday girl opens it, with much fake excitement, and it turn out the dress is the exact same as one that one of my Girl Housemate's is wearing. We manage to keep quiet about this as Birthday Girl goes upstairs to put the dress on, which she's been planning on wearing for her night out for a week. She comes downstairs in the dress and one Girl Housemate shouts:
----- you look gorgeous! But look! ----- has the exact same dress!!!! hahahahahaha
Now this is probably the most exciting thing that's happened in my life so I take a front row seat and observe the very humiliating public awkwardness as my housemate says:
It's okay though, i'm wearing a blazer.
And Birthday Girl says nothing and walks into the kitchen.

Needless to say, after we left Birthday Girl's house we didn't see her again in the club.

Also can I say what I posted on my FB status no less that 1 hours ago:
All the worst music + one location = -------
I haven't been to this place since early last year and thank fucking god. The 'indie' room, for the 15 minutes I was there, played Nirvana (oh god), blink 182 (are we 12?), B.I.G (really?) and some awful compilation remix of eminem (kill me now).
While I was there though I found a friend of mine who brought her friend who'd slept with a guy I was dancing with. And this girl ha left the guy alone in her bedroom the morning after until he left, which I found hilarious because he thinks he's god's gift to female students (which i'd probably agree with because he's just my type). So we were hoping with all our might that my friend's friend would come and find her there and see the guy and we could just stand back and watch all sorts of sexual awkward tension go down, but sadly it never happened.
So I went to find other housemates, they dragged me to the main room, which were playing 5ive ( and if you don't know who that is thank yourself lucky). so I told them I couldn't stay any longer and left.
On the way home I threw up no less than 3 times, I blame that place, i'm only ever sick after being there. I think it's the pheromones of unattractive men, bad music, and under dressed girls.

And i'm thinking that's not a bad stream of consciousness for a drunk Andy

Thank you, and goodnight.