A noble mention, because you’re not a university student, nor do you ever intend to use your degree. You’re riotous good fun, and don’t mind being the butt of the joke (‘Brookes not books’ doesn’t phase you anymore). You’re either never in Oxford, or you’re there too much. All of your allowance is spent on Chiltern Railways to fund your weekend trips up to London, or on petrol, to escape to your housemate’s palatial estate in the North Cotswolds. Aristos are by the dozen…

