Everyone sucks but us: Why Pendle own this joint

Your windows loose, so precarious perch’d
Your SCR team, JCR so keen
Your bar so bare (believe me, I search’d)
Your netball girls, the footie team
Pendle pond, relax with a swim
Pendle posh, our faraway friends
Unisex toilets (beat Sugar to that one)
Pendle Live chilli, filled to the brim
(bar’s busy on Mondays, I guess it depends)
You think that’s enough? Good, ’cause I’m done.

Friends, Pendlites, countrymen, lend me your ears. It’s about time Lancaster University’s premier college got some loving. Sure, we tried this before, but the combined forces of County, Lonnie and Cartmel had the audacity to copy us (bloody typical). Well we’re back, bitches, and we brought poetry this time.

“Your bar is shit,” cry the envious masses. “I hate Pendle,” said a guy as his icebreaking fact about himself at the Sugarhouse job interview I went to the other week. “Hahaha,” chuckled the other execs of a society when I suggested we host our next social at Prooms.

Venue of Legends indeed

To those naysayers I say the following: “I can’t hear you over my £1.25 pints”, “you didn’t get the job” and “yeah, that social worked out great at Lonnie didn’t it?”, respectively.

I’ll wager the mention of pints has piqued your interest. It’s true, come down on a Monday and you can get yourself four (four!) pints for £5. £2.50 triples. Getting yourself paralytic has never been so cheap! Sure, some mug decided to carpet the floor of a bar, and sure, you’ll spend the night ducking and weaving around the neverending pool games, but it’s a small price to pay for having money for food the next day.

It’s official: we throw the best shapes

But what of those who claim the bar is never open? True once, perhaps, but now it’s open every night of every day. Whether there’ll be people or not is another matter, but you should always be able to get some bevs. Come on a Thursday and you can even get a free meal. What’s not to love?

But there’s more to a college than just its bar (otherwise Cartmel would be long gone). Our accommodation is baller, with the option of ensuites for the delicate, mollycoddled amongst you, and shared toilets for those of us who live in the real world and not in an ivory tower. We have a sick quad for laying on during the four hours of sunshine Lancaster gets per year.

There’s never a dull moment #prayforthewindow

Then you have our SCR and JCR. We have Jill, the world’s most adorable person and Pendle’s adoptive mum. Our residence officer plays in a heavy metal band, which has graced Pendle Live with their presence before. As for the JCR, they literally won the award for being the biggest keenos around last year, so that’s got to count for something.

That same link highlights another reason we’re ballers: we absolutely dominate scrubs at bar sports. We tear shit up in football. We ruin cunts in netball. We take on all comers and send them home in body bags.

Like waking up in paradise

Maybe we do get all our shit robbed, and maybe we will always have to fend off thrown shade from the other, less able colleges, but at the end of the day, who’re the ones in the green and yellow?

You can have your ears back now.