Halls of Residence Again (When I Were A Lad)
Early 90's, North Wales....

... flashback to my first day as a fresher,as I open the door of my new room to find a dead cockroach in the middle of the floor, and a sheep looking through the window.

Obviously a precocious 'rentasheep escort' picking out her patch before the other brazen hussies baa'd their way up the hill.

No power socket - just a wall light socket (try and cope with that now, you young whippersnappers) - actually me and the guy next door who was doing electrical engineering and therefore like me owned a screwdriver nipped to the local sparky's supplies and made up a bunch of adaptors. Beer money sorted!

Duvet the approximate size and thickness of a poppadum (it thickened throughout the year as DNA was *ahem* added).

Facilities: we had a twin ring Baby Belling, toaster and kettle between about 20 blokes. One fridge that was a sort of mini Tardis in that it held approximately one pack of fish fingers before the laws of physics reversed and the door wouldn't close. Where it would leak water in a puddle so that first one in the morning could speed-skate amusingly across the floor before splatting into the wall in a lovely early morning comedy moment.

Oh, and 2 baths, plus 4 sinks with handheld shower head things attached.

(Rumour was that the site used to be a Catlick girls school or suchlike and they couldn't put showerheads in or they'd be hanging themselves left right and centre). Or it housed oven-dodgers (sorry, refugees from the Nazis) who went a bit odd when the word "shower" was used.

Laundry facilities non-existent for a couple of years (we did have a nice sink. And Contact Detergent Dermatitis). I washed my towel once a year, regardless of need.

What I want to know now, with the benefit of age and wisdom, is (a) how the hell did I get SOBER people of the opposite species sorry gender to have sex with me? And break my heart (sniff)?

And (b) who in their right minds would pay to sleep in my pit over the vacations?




It was also on top of a mountain, there was no parking, the heating gave up at about 8pm, the local scrotes treated it as a burglars paradise and the abbatoir supplying the site was allegedly closed down after abcesses were discovered in the meat.


Best time of my life. Albeit smelly.





(Hull ticket booked for the Nazi bit)
(osok Rebel without a clue, Mon 21 Jan 2008, 14:46, Reply)