(This post was written as part of the BRSM Blog Party. For more worldly wisdom, check out Jess's entry, Stu's, Vittorio's, and Freda's...)
There once was a chap from the UK,
Who wanted to study in Ussay.
He said "I know what,
I'll get scuttlebutt,
And figure out how to be OK."
His mates on thine Twitter doth proclaim,
That the Yankee chem kids are most profane.
They 'colour' incorrectly,
Forget 'football' and 'high tea,'
Those Yanks just love coffee and ballgames.
Dollars - not pounds - will buy groceries,
Pounds - and not stone - for the weights, please.
In lab, we know grams,
Kilos and drams,
But don't order 'litres' of gas, geez!
Driving's best done on the right,
Try not to run the red lights.
I'd recommend bussing,
But I'm not quite trusting,
No double-deckers in sight.
Remember your relative youth,
You're prob'ly much further in truth.
Our 'Docs' start too late,
Feel put off and irate,
Student loans and long programs are uncouth.
Keep your head down and do good work,
Take on new skills and avoid jerks.
Get a paper or two,
Make some new friends to boot,
And never say no to some pub perks.
Good luck, B.R.S.M. Come see us sometime, we'll buy you a pint.