There is no ventilation so the air is heavy with rancid beer, skank perfume (of which I swear to Buddha smells like cat urine) and the stench of male desperation and body odour.

At nine o’clock tonight I had my first encounter with a police officer due to my off-chance, haphazard driving in the ‘burbs. Lights blow, red and blue, whirling like an anxious disco ball.

Never in my life have I attempted to ‘pick up’ at a bar, BUT, my friends, as I’ve remained mysterious and elusive (or forever alone, depending which way you look at it), I’ve been able to watch the world go by. I know how things work.

The year is 2018 and America has sent a couple of astronauts to the moon. After capturing one, Hitler and co. discover the astronaut’s iPhone is capable of powering their mega UFO warship ‘Götterdämmerung’. But one Apple device just isn’t enough…

Now, as a man, I will tell you right now that my balls are absolutely huge. They are at least 6ft in diameter. I had my first pair removed (they are now in Rundle Mall on display), but they grew back after I ate a 200ft steak in five minutes.

“What do I do? I edit UniLife Magazine and work at Big W,” I replied, hoping Job A would cancel out some of Job B’s social stigma. “What do you do?” I asked. “Oh, I work at a sex shop,” replied Jake, casually.

I dig beards. And I’m proud of it. Gone are the days where the main objects of affection were Orlando Bloom types, all squeaky clean and naked-chinned. Bearded brethren can rejoice – a revolution is upon us.

I’m sure you’ve all had friends from other universities joke that UniSA should be renamed “SuperTAFE”, effectively consigning it to an educational status beneath university.