GETTING MEDIEVAL ON YOUR ASSI'm applying for stuff at the moment which is never fun. I realise I 'm going to have to use poncey words in my applications to impress my betters; that is words longer than three syllables and avoiding slang words like "poncey". I'll also avoid that incredibly hillarious and not-in-the-least-bit tiresome age-old gag of writing "yes please" wherever it says "sex". Maybe I could learn Latin or something to look posh? Yeah - that would be cool, I could litter all my correspondence with phrases like "confessio", "celebratio", "ad infinitum" and "depeche mode".
It hasn't all been work though, I have engaged in a little bit of rampaging too. I met Davey (what a clever pseudonym!) in O'Brien's on Leeson Street (that's the pub, not the sandwich bar) which was a handy stroll down from me. He was celebrating the end of his masters exams, so it was always going to turn into a bit of a dirty night from the start. We hopped into a taxi at the end of the night to follow the crowd into the Porterhouse, and decided that we were going to be foreigners for some reason. I asked for "The Porterhouse please" as stilted and as ordinary-level English as I could, and then we nattered nonsense French for a while: I'm not sure, but I think we had a intense discussion about the location of the train station and how many brothers and sisters we had - all in an accent so unconvincing it would embarrass Pepe Le Peu. Davey leaned forward and said in a slow, deliberate, thinly disguised midlands accent "Are you Busy Tonight?" sounding for all the world about as foreign as Father Ted. "Where are you from?" The driver asked us. "I am from, eh..." Davey scratched his drunken head, "I am from, eh... I am from, eh... eh... Tullamore!"
The following morning I found that Rocky, my flatmate, had slipped something underneath my door. It was an article about sexual practices in the Middle Ages with a post-it saying: "thought you might find this interesting!" So, it was either the most bizarre come-on you could possibly get, or I have friends troweling through medievalist journals looking for the dirty bits. There was lots of poncey Latin in it though, and guess what? The Latin for "climax" is "celebratio". How very apt.
