It's no good being an early bird: the crunch comes around four and I seem to have got home round the M25 without even noticing. I am trying not to drink so much coffee and eat so much chocolate this semester; this is helped by a decision to boycott the Students Union shop for putting soft porn magazines on display amongst its Time Outs and Dazed and Confuseds.
It's a bit naff living in a world in which heinous slugs think it's OK to throw handfuls of naked breasts all over the place and think it's censorship to cease to stock these rags.
I have arguments with some feminist friends who say that if men are fools enough to buy porn, then let women sell themselves.
Personally, I feel that it doesn't help to create an atmosphere of mutual respect in an organisation that is supposed to educate people: but then again, this is the Students Union shop and students will be students.
I suppose it's a beneficial moral stance if I retrieve my disappearing waistline as a result of the boycott. It might then be possible once more to see that I have... breasts.