Cold, dark night with a half-moon lurking behind the clouds here at the ancient...

>cold, dark night with a half-moon lurking behind the clouds here at the ancient, academically unsurpassable University of Oxford
>tfw currently sitting on my sturdy chair in my dormitory previously occupied by Great Minds who all have their own detailed wikipedia pages, my perineum positioned on the seat's edge allowing a feeling of sustained, low-level erotic pleasure
>tfw on Saturday morning, my now officially declared Elite, privately educated (~£36,000 a year fees) girlfriend and I lied side-by-side gazing into each others eyes with barely suppressed romantic adoration
>tfw eventually we showered and I walked her back to her college with her bicycle before heading to the library to loan some books for my intensive, unrivalled undergraduate academic career
>tfw as I turned away from her at the entry to her college she said "Wait, can I ask you something?" and twisted her toe into the ground while blushing crimson until saying it was nothing and hurrying away
>tfw I spent the afternoon studying in my dormitory and had lunch with a few pals from my quad, each of whom is a member of the genetically distinct, biologically profound upper class students who attend this illustrious university
>tfw one of them is the Eton-educated son of a politician I often see on the television, and is himself planning to pursue a high-status role within university politics
>tfw they all leaned in across the dinner table as I told them a spooky story from my time living amongst the humble (poor), largely irrational, often violent "working" class
>tfw the story ended with me being forced to take public transport on a bus full of drunken football fans and they all gasped and the girls were gripping one another in fright
>later that night my now officially declared girlfriend and I got dressed up in our costumes in her dormitory
>tfw she dressed as Hermione and I as Harry Potter (my own background justifying such a role, and her temperament justifying hers)
>tfw spent the evening in a popular, exclusive, traditional English pub singing drunkenly and chanting our respective college chants before stumbling through a chilly spooky night to our next destination

What a fine night we had here on Saturday to celebrate Halloween, the ancient city of Oxford lending the occasion a mysterious, almost sinister feeling as my then hopefully soon-to-be upper class, Elite, not-for-you girlfriend clutching my side as I guarded her against any and all terrors lurking close at hand. And that was only the beginning of the evening; what came later on changed my life, for the better of course (it being the University of Oxford) forever.

What books would you recommend reading to fully appreciate Halloween Veeky Forums?

The Lesser Key of Solomon.

How are your grades, pseud?

I notice your last thread got deleted but you made a new one in less time than it would take a ban to expire with no comment on the fact you were temporarily banned, much like londonfrog is used to doing.

Since there have been no important, formal examination periods yet I am hesitant to post my "grades".

I have nothing to do with Londonfrog, nor have I ever evaded a ban on Veeky Forums.

thats cute i guess

I would also like to thank the moderators of this board for only "Warning" me for posting previous threads similar to this, and only banning me from Veeky Forums when they felt a ban was necessary. Your wisdom is most appreciated. I can only imagine that you too attended the ancient and universally renowned University of Oxford to understand that a lengthier ban would be unjustified. It is no coincidence that so many University of Oxford students go on to become Big Names in the legal world.

i heard malala's studying there

The fact that these heartwarming threads get deleted is a damning indictment of Veeky Forums. Thank you for posting, Oxbro.

yes, very good content right here

kys

>college chants
Are these actually a thing? I went to Oxford and don't recall hearing any, but then I only went to the one boat race.

I do believe Malala is studying here at the University Oxford, unwilling as she presumably was to settle for a lesser institution (which would be anywhere else). I have yet to make her acquaintance, nor am I aware why her name is so well-known, though I can only imagine that she is the modern incarnation of some Gordafarid-esque leader of the Persion and Mohamedian peoples, a temptress no doubt.

>a popular, exclusive, traditional English pub
That's a funny way to describe the PT

>academically unsurpassable University of Oxford
objectively false

>>tfw the story ended with me being forced to take public transport on a bus full of drunken football fans and they all gasped and the girls were gripping one another in fright
Fanfiction-tier, desu

>tfw you kissed and told everyone on the internet

We're broken up. What was I thinking. I thought you were sensitive, but here you are posting about our night. I can't believe you. Don't call me, and if you see me around campus don't approach me.

...

I imagine that you were one of the minority of students granted entry to the University of Oxford for the sake of appeasing the humble (poor), genetically deficient, intellectually malnourished masses and their irrational, spite-driven insistence on accepting some of "their own" to the university in the name of some ill-considered utopian ideal. There are indeed chants, many in fact, associated with each college, many of them quite Potter-esque - both witty and erudite - which every upper class, genetically gifted, success-orientated student has learned thoroughly within days of their settling here. One of my favorites, one I utterly bellowed in the faces of my peers from surrounding colleges on Saturday night, is the following:

"Smart and pretty,
Athletic and witty,
'Tis a shame and a pity,
You're not one of us!

Top of the class,
Bold as brass,
Down in old London,
You'll be kissing my ass!"

A truly rapturous chant which cleverly points out that members of college are disproportionately likely to become CEOs and other high-ranking, high-status individuals barely having graduated from the University of Oxford.

Are you also that dumb frogposter that kept making threads about how much he hated Great Expectations but read it anyway for pseud cred?

>"Wait, can I ask you something?" and twisted her toe into the ground while blushing crimson until saying it was nothing and hurrying away
fugg

I am not the Londonfrogposter, who I believe is of Mohamedian origin.

>yfw close family and friends enrolled in esteemed english university
>yfw they tell you it is wrongly idealized and is always put on a pedastal like OP
>yfw nothing in OP happened
>yfw user is alone hunched over a 6 year old laptop with a loud fan in some rundown one room apartment in somewhere in bonglanchestershire
>yfw you wioll never pay some exorbitant amount of money to let current academia warp your thoughts
>yfw you have a comfy copywriting job with enough downtime to read and write and shitpost on Veeky Forums
feels good, bros

share your stories of disdain for modern academia.

>tfw Oxbro is trying to usher in the second age of Veeky Forums tripfriends & characters, where we each carve out our ironic personalities and the whole board becomes a self-referential joke impenetrable to outsiders
based

I also pay my bills with freelance copywriting. $40 an hour. Thank god for busy illiterates with big business loans.

Can such a well-articulated character / personality be said to be truly "ironic"? I think we're post-something here. I fear we are what comes after Wallace.

You're no less of a bug than Gregor is

>tfw summoning all of my energy and focus to properly relay to you what happened towards the end of Saturday night, here at the ancient and universally renowned University of Oxford
>tfw while dressed as Harry Potter (me) and Hermione (my then hopefully soon-to-be Elite, upper class girlfriend) she suddenly tugged my hand until we were languishing behind the rest of the group who disappeared down one of the city's many quaint, carefully-preserved side streets
>tfw it was just she and I standing with our bellies pressed together in the orange light of a traditional street lamp, a cold wind lifting our black robes and her ginger-brown hair
>I chortled and asked what was wrong as she simply stood there looking up at me with her eyebrows raised and her eyeballs glimmering with unshed tears
>tfw she finally said "I just want to appreciate this for a moment" and I could see superfluous, thick saliva dangling from her upper teeth suggesting she was truly on the verge of crying
>tfw I carefully laid my large, palm suggesting a working class brutishess overcome by civilised refinement, against the side of her soft, warm, unblemished face
>a warm tear raced down and collided with the tip of my thumb and was then blown up and across the back of my palm
>tfw I involuntarily whispered "I appreciate this more than you can imagine," and then, noticing her lip quivering, whispered into her ear "I appreciate *you* more than you could ever imagine" and kissed her delicate, non-herpes-infected, rose petal-esque lips
>tfw after kissing she said "I just remembered what I was going to ask you earlier" while giggling and wiping beneath each eye while turning her eyeballs spaceward
>"What is it?" I begged of her, turning briefly to see another group of students chanting and shouting words and phrases only comprehensibly to upper class individuals such as myself
>tfw I could tell she was struggling to speak again and just as she was about to say something I placed my fingertip against her lips and said "The answer is yes" and kissed her forehead (in which so much knowledge is contained!)
>tfw we walked slowly, her leaning against me and my powerful, protective arm around her delicate shoulder

Such is life that even here at the University of Oxford, where cold, analytical intelligence is said to be precedence over shallow and vulgar displays of emotion, love, the purest kind, has allowed itself to be expressed between two individuals almost too innocent and sensitive for this overwhelmingly brutish world. I am in love, and to feel that love returned is justification enough to live a thousand times over in the most miserly position imaginable with only the memory of that love to sustain me

>(in which so much knowledge is contained!)

kek

You posted this as a separate thread and then deleted it. As someone who also does stuff like this quite a bit, I wonder how that makes you feel. When I assume alternate user identities I feel like I'm not allowed to make even minor mistakes because a mistake is a pure unstructured reflection of the "real" me. When you posted this and then deleted it, I saw the real you. You did something that wasn't carefully tailored. I saw the zipper on the suit. Does that bother you? It bothers me when it happens. Anyway I can tell I'm better at this than you. My standards are much higher. I've scrapped entire characters over things much smaller than that shitty comma use in line 6.