Thursday, 21 January 2010


Having sat through my graduation ceremony for my BA yesterday, I have come to the conclusion that graduation is utterly wank.

Don't get me wrong, I had a blast. Got to see a load of my friends again, got a degree, had a composer the size of Hagrid bellow "We are the champions" at us as we stood to leave. "I've got 5 degrees and this is what I've been reduced to - Freddie Mercury impressions" he later told me.

Afterwards I got to go drinking with my friends (always good to have an excuse). I don't quite remember how I got back from Kingston to Surbiton and I apparently passed out on the back seat of my car on the way home. What I do remember is falling over. I don't know why though. I distinctly remember Dilia shouting "you were supposed to CATCH me!". That is all.

So why, when I had such a great time, is graduation wank?

Because rather than actually be a congratulatory affair to celebrate a group of young people getting their degrees - it's just another excuse for them to take your fucking money!
£20-odd a ticket for family or friends who want to come. Then they sting you for pictures because they have those pretty backgrounds and they know that you need them. Then they try and get you to upgrade to the fancier, much more expensive background, "well that's the background I want for when my children graduate. Yes, it's slightly more expensive, but they're worth it". Shut up. I doubt you even have children troll. I'll take the cheap background thanks. But that's not enough. Then there are photos of you shaking hands on the stage. T-shirts with your name on it. Fridge magnets. Teddy bears. Scarfs! Then of course there's the DVD. Do you really want to relive the 90 minutes of clapping and boring speeches for something ridiculous like £40 a disc? No - but you know what - I'm going to buy it, I know I will, just because I want to see Hagrid sing again!

The £9600 I paid them for their fees was clearly not enough.

Utter wank. I could have been very happy with turning up, prancing across the stage and getting my degree. But instead I am confronted with more merchandise than a tacky tourist shop in London. Bastards.

But like I said, the drinking was good

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