Another Silly Letter

It is with sorrow that I note the demise of my wife's second cousin's best friend Arnold (J.C) Grope, who, incensed at your supposed interference in his evangelical crusade and you continuing refusal to publish his letters, has finally bitten the white line an Old Karori Road and gone around the proverbial twist. But, I daresay, this Godless institution shall struggle on regardless.

Of course, student life is pretty rough, and the student's association is not helping the situation. The cost of three square roots a day is going up in leaps and bounds, as is the risk involved in swiping Barrett's hotel glasses. And now that the price of a dozen of our staple die-try unit has risen to monumental proportions, I'd say we're just about out of it. But Studass can only come up with the same old ideas - these marches and associated parliamentary crappola.

What is needed is a fresh approach and an attack on the source of our problems. You could teach a tortoise to sing sooner than teach a politician to think, so before you go off to apply green armour-plating to Gwen Rowling's shoulderblades, I would suggest that present approaches should be sent down the tube.

Our first priority must be the removal of locks on armoured freightways vans. That, and the new printing press currently being installed in the swimming pool custodian's office, should solve the liquidity problems of your average student-in-the-street. And if all else fails, I suggest we circumvent Muldoon's crowd altogether and declare our own government — New Zealand ruled by VUW could only flourish. We could even put the subsidy back on piss!!

The (National anthem or similar inserted as background here) prevailing gloom in our beloved nation need not continue. It it up to you and I, and all our cricket loving people, to take the lead (the emotion is bladder-rending at this stage). Death to hedgehogs, Wombats are forever.