HEATHCLIFF, IT'S ME I'M CATHY. COME HOME! IT'S SO CO-O-O-OLD, LET ME INTO YOUR WINDOW.

That title bears no relevance to the content of this post yet it was just screaming to be involved, for what serious, God-fearing blog is complete without a Kate Bush reference? I have now to render fruitless the first statement of the previous sentence by bringing relevance to the title.

On the way back from the NUS/Press Association media awards today we of the Quench/Gair Rhydd runners-up team (except that Geordie one and his "I'm so bloody diverse" award) worked our way through an amazing array of songs including Wuthering Kate Bush's Heights. It was a wonderful experience replete with some spectacular word-forgetting and tune betrayal.

The event itself had it's ups and downs but was largely a good craic. Rajesh Mirchandani set proceedings off with a touch of class yet that class was rapidly revealed to be phony when the three women from the Sheila's Wheels adverts rolled out to sing some covers. I'd rather listen to a tape recording of my own death.

Why this was arranged I will never know but the DJ made up for it by crippling to our team's Widetop inspired clamourings for My Chemical Romance. Raise a glass to the Warwick Boar: hats off.