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Bored arts student finds big gay unicorn

Alex McKinnon saved a mythical milk crate creature and lived to write about it.

The author with the unicorn. (Image: Fahad Ali) The author with the unicorn. (Image: Fahad Ali)
The author with the unicorn. (Image: Fahad Ali)
The author with the unicorn. (Image: Fahad Ali)

There are a few moments in the course of every life that transcend the confines of existence and become part of something bigger. Moments where, for the briefest time, you peer into a sliver of the infinite and touch the face of God. At other times, you just happen to find a giant unicorn and turn it into a half-arsed social media exercise.

Last Monday, I found one such giant unicorn made entirely out of milk crates with a traffic cone for a horn, complete with rainbow tail and mane, sitting happily on the City Road footbridge.

I mistakenly assumed it had been abandoned by some legends from Mardi Gras who had marched with it in the parade the night before. Much to my dismay, however, I later discovered photos of it chilling on Eastern Avenue earlier in the day, with a banner featuring the words “Anything Is Possible”, an Anarchy symbol, and a graphic rendering of the unicorn spearing a cop in the chest.

By the time I found the unicorn, campus security had removed it. In this context, “campus security” consists of two bemused blokes wondering what to do with their new giant milk-crate unicorn, maybe wishing they’d taken up horticulture instead. They were on the phone to Maintenance, trying to find someone to come break the thing up with a pair of scissors. They gave me twenty minutes to move it, with assurances that they didn’t give a shit where I put it as long as it was off campus. They suggested Victoria Park.

The rest is history. After a few calls to politicians and Twitter shout-outs to media outlets and gay celebrities, word had gotten out enough for a delightful-sounding young lady named Charlotte, who happened to live across the road, to offer to take the beast off our hands. It now resides at her place, and will live out its days as a mascot for the lesbian club night aptly titled ‘Unicorns’.

I’m still not sure why I saved the unicorn. It may have something to do with the fact that I’m not a huge fan of campus security, or that I’m a 23-year-old, fifth-year Arts student, and thus increasingly desperate for proof that I haven’t become irrelevant. Mostly, though, unicorns are fucking great, and no one should ever destroy one. Carpe YOLO, friends.

Vice Chancellor Michael Spence.

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