The RVC Song
Then again, when your classes and future job could well involve sticking your hand up a cow's arse on a regular basis, this is understandable and to be fair, in terms of the academic workload, they made practically everyone else in the hall look like a skiving arse. So they sort of had an excuse.
So,jeremy scott adidas uk, one evening, I followed a group of vets through London and came unto the Electric Ballroom in Camden, paid five quid to get in, and realised that I really wasn't supposed to be there, for it was a vets only do. After someone noticed this, and a particularly large and ugly bouncer questioned me about this (I bluffed successfully, by the way), the festivities began. Firstly, groups of vet students were taken up on stage and told to down pints in increasing states of undress (believe you me, a line of hairyarsed rugger buggers wearing nothing but empty pint glasses on their heads is something I never want to see again) then the finalyear girls, who were dressed as air hostesses, performed a spot of striptease, and finally, sheets were handed round the attendees with this lyrical masterpiece on. Which we sang with much zest.
Fanciful as this song may seem, and although it is even less politically correct than Kevin Bloody Wilson writing a column for the Daily Mail, I feel that it's worthy of being posted here for two informational purposes. The first of these is so that if any prospective Royal Veterinary College student sees this they will have some idea of the atmosphere of the place, and secondly, because I think those good citizens of E2 and readers who have offspring of a certain age ought to know exactly what sort of things their little darlings are doing with their money. Thus,adidas js wings, here is presented:相关的主题文章:
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