Hey CC

Your story (nicely told btw) reminded me of an episode in my dim and distant past...[wavy lines]

I was 19 and at college in Bournemouth doing a catering degree. I fitted in like middle-aged hells angel would, in the chorus line for Swan Lake. The only thing keeping me sane was a decent bunch of mates doing 'combined studies' degrees. We formed the oh-so-amusingly-ironic-and-oxymoronic Anarchists' Society, which basically meant we met at the Students' Union and didn't like the rugger-buggers. One drunken night someone actually played some Punk tracks at the usual Friday night bash so a young, drunken Che started to 'show them how the real Punks pogo'. Apart from receiving shoves and light punches from all of the other patrons as I smashed into them on the beer-slippery floor, I also released a very large greeny from my sinuses and snorted it into my mouth, then, choosing the moment carefully, I leapt ceilingwards and spat the exceedingly offensive article at the polystyrene tiled ceiling and was hugely pleased to see it stick and then form into a long thread of goo hanging a good four or five inches from the ceiling.

The next day it was still hanging there to my huge delight and the admiration of my Anarchist pals.

By the end of term IT WAS STILL THERE, but now dried up into a kinked thread of solid snot.

I failed the first year, but was glad that there was a little piece of Che that I was able to leave behind.
(Che Grimsdale Best before:, Fri 1 Aug 2008, 16:01, Reply)