They’ve arrived: the new Tab columnists for this term.
It’s that time again. The columnists for Easter 2012 have arrived.
This term, we’re doing it a little differently. Old hands are returning alongside brand new faces: two of The Tab‘s most popular columnists are back.
This crack team will be guiding you through the tough times ahead. They’ll soon be your new best Tab friends.
Psyched out by the interesting and creative people he’s working with on his Year Abroad placement in an advertising agency in Moscow, Alex has developed a complex about being boring and is desperately trying to rectify that.
When he’s not coming up with frankly silly ideas to sell dandruff shampoo and watered-down fruit juice, Alex can be found comically misunderstanding Russian people and being comically misunderstood by those same Russian people over a plate of the Russian food he has come to despise so passionately.
Check The Tab tomorrow for Alex’s first column.
James Mitchell, a student rapidly approaching his mid-twenties and hailing from one of the more obscure colleges, claims to be in a unique position to understand the problems facing both undergraduates and postgraduates.
In common with most postgraduates, James has already spent three years ‘studying’ at university – but, as yet, has not managed successfully to complete a single year of any undergraduate course.
Check The Tab on Wednesday for James’ first column
The first of our returning columnists is Evie Prichard. Once The Tab’s myopic fresher, her now advanced age allows her to mix wisdom into her wit.
The large numbers of people now able to recognise Evie when she goes out may have made the life of this prosopagnosiac extremely difficult, but her commitment to The Tab has taken her all the way from America to the open-mic stage.
She enjoys the lyrical whimsy of David Bowie and believes in the redeeming power of true love.
READ Evie’s first column here. Evie will be writing fortnightly.
The Tab‘s poet laureate, Anna Isaac, is back after a belter of a first term.
Anna scribbles about things you might have thought but have too great a sense public of shame to share.
Whet your appetite, or yourself, as she bursts through embarrassment straight into humiliation and truth. Pack a spare pair of knickers and jump aboard the good ship cringe! Oh, wait, that rhymes with something…
READ Anna’s column here. Anna will be writing fortnightly.