Food, glorious queue.

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How long are you prepared to wait for food? I ask this purely because I am sat in the Marstall Mensa, staring at a queue spanning over 100 metres. Now, Germans, I understand that we may have a history of following what people in authority tell us to do, but surely at some point you must just think, “hmm, maybe the bakery will take less than an hour to get food”.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for mainstream socialising, after all, the notion of being such an alternative who refuses to buy into conformity by wearing the same clothes as others who refuse to buy into conformity can become incredibly boring. Being mainstream is the new indie and so I totally get why the more expensive Mensa would be the best option. But seriously, how much time does one have in their day to spend queueing for food that, really, you’re just going to flush down the toilet in a few hours time?

In other news, in 2 weeks my hair appears have changed colour three times. First, I was living my enjoyable blond lifestyle, but bored of its murky tones, I turned to a female friend and inquired as to whether I should dye my hair for the first time. After recovering from the squeal of joy that seems to follow every male declaration of letting a girl mess with his hair, I became a brunette or brown head. However my blond persistence has proven powerful and now, through no deliberate fault of my own, appear to be adding a tint of more ginger.

The Doctor would be proud.

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