Daily Archives :

September 10, 2014

Captain Play-Off: Ski Vs Women’s Football

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Beaver Online are excited to bring back The Beaver’s ‘Captain Play-Off’ feature. We are going to be pitting club captains against each other, asking them the same questions, and at the end of the play-off readers – that’s you – can vote who wins! First up, it’s Snow’s Harry Philpot and Women’s Football’s Jenny Johanson. Answers in all play-offs may or may not be truthful.   Where do you come…

Postgrad Roxana – Parting thoughts.

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As I am preparing to move to London to start my postgraduate program at LSE, I have started to pay close attention to the little things of my current routine at my hometown in Monterrey, Mexico. Located in the northeastern region of the country and surrounded by mountains, I’ve re-discovered the natural beauty of my city when during my evening run I am forced to just stop and gaze at…

The City – The Beaver’s New Section for Business and Finance

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The Beaver is launching a new section focussed on business and finance, appearing in print and online. We’re looking for an editor for the section and writers to contribute stories on anything from the worlds of business and finance. If you fancy trying your hand at share tipping, or just reporting on the ins and outs of the city, this is the section for you. Not only will your writing…

Pooley on the Prem – International Bore

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United bought Falcao last Monday, while Hull did some extremely cheeky business bringing in every averagely good player on earth. However, being the first post from The Beaver’s new £6 million loan signing (with a view to buy at the end of the season), I thought I’d write a few words on how excited I am for the end of this godforsaken international break. Along with the impending doom of…

My Summer – Somersault Festival

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What did I do this summer? Seems a little like the 13 weeks between my last exam and writing this article has gone in a blur, and for once, that’s not because of a mass consumption of alcohol. It’s been a great summer, but picking one thing to write about is difficult…But obviously not impossible. One event (OK there were more than that but I’m only allowed to pick one)…

My Summer – NOS Alive, Portuguese Music Festival

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I had prime view of the stage and good friends beside me. Music pulsated, stage lights illuminated the air and the crowds cheered. Onstage Alex Turner paused and then smirked into his microphone “Have we got a treat for you tonight, Lisbon…” To hell with that… just how great the Arctic Monkeys were that night I’ll never know. I was on my way to my tent with only Neurofen and…

Why feminism ruined my life (not really)

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It’s my first day of university on my exchange year, I’m sat in French class and the topic of discussion is ‘la séduction’: seduction. Obviously, the wealth of personal experience I have in this area (i.e. minimal) fully equipped me to make insightful, intellectually sound remarks on the popular fairy tale ‘Cendrillon’ aka Cinderella. Now, I’ve always had a bone to pick with Le Prince, who I can safely add…

My Summer – How I Cleansed My Soul

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‘Aged ten years’- It is a hackneyed expression. However, it perfectly encapsulated what I felt physically and psychologically after the biggest exam of my 18 years of life in May. Not only was I completely exhausted, but I also felt ‘empty’. Having dedicated myself wholly to studying for some 12 years, for once, I was free from it. Yet, rather than the joy of liberation, I felt that my life,…

My Summer – Braving Tanzania

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My friend whimpered as I rolled down the window of our safari car – in order to take a more clear picture of the great lion, standing a mere few metres away from our necks. The lion gave us a quizzical stare, and the driver began to decree us insane in Kiswahili. “Usijali, kaka. You only live once!” I joked. He did not laugh. That moment set the stage for…

FresherLASS’ Summer – The Skipton Pub Crawl

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The best day of my summer was undoubtedly the first. Like most, I did the generic girls holiday, the festivals, even a long weekend in Paris pretending to be cultured. But nothing beat the beauty of seeing four hundred 18 year olds descend upon Skipton just before midday, with the intent only of getting as drunk as possible for as long as possible. Leaver’s Pub-crawl was a magical day. I…