Will someone PLEASE think of the Irish!

The Irish have departed. It all feels like a bit of a dream. I'm dazed and confused and have a craving for all foodstuffs high in saturated fat. I've just eaten a bag of kettle crisps and hummous and am still craving snacks. I even went to the Wolfson Tutorial garden party hoping for the usual canapees of deep fried stuff, but we arrived 30 minutes late and all the food had already been scoffed. There's students for you.

I'm still awaiting photographic evidence of the ball so shall blog some of the more serene moments of the Irish visit... starting with the punting, which looked a bit like this:

The punting was preceded by the college garden party, which we unwittingly gate-crashed, as it was only supposed to be for college staff (hence the garden party for students today), which looked rather like this:

The reason Julie was so delighted to be confronted by wine and a brass band at the college garden party was because, only the evening before, she had partied like this:

The reason Julie got rather tipsy was that there were many glasses left on our table with different levels of wine left in them. As we all know, Julie is a very tidy person (and not a raving alcoholic) who thus felt-honour bound to tidy up the whole mess by drinking what remained. Not the wisest move, given the cheapness and nastiness of the Wolfson house white, but you have to admire her dedication.

I'll leave the story of Jesus to another time, when I have photographic evidence to back up my allegations. But, needless to say, a potential disaster involving huge loss of life was narrowly avoided, enemies became friends, friends became enemies and we all lived happily, if slightly groggily, ever after.