Clean it up boy...
1st year at uni, 15 years ago (I've mentally aged at least 15 months since then) I lived in a house with 4 other randoms; one of whom turned out to be my best friend, but I digress...
Come the barmy summer months after the first year exams we found ourselves bored, sober, and in a ratty, rented property we didn't give a shit about... cue INDOOR WATER FIGHTS! Ah yes, the return to childish pursuits (drunken puking is excluded from that catergory)..

For a couple of days the war escalated from cups of water and empty washing up liquid bottles (AHHH AAAHHH my eyes you twat... you're supposed to wash it out first!)to pans and buckets of water... indoors... if anyone have had been creative enough to bring in a box of watercress seeds we could have had our own new Wembley within a week... we all took to squishing about in shorts and no shoes.

One chap went home every weekend, and although a decent but chinless type, had never offended or interested the rest of us. During one particularly gibberingly childish spat my best mate took refuge from my pan full of lethal H2O in the fella's room... diving under the bed covers screaming that it wasn't appropriate to soil hit sheets 'you wankers'... how ironic this turned out to be.

When a truce was agreed i.e. he'll get one foot out of the room and three of us, dressed only in shorts, will throw our liquid all over him (it was only later when telling this story in front of a group of blokes Irealised the homo erotic connotations of this whole picture and chose not to tell it again unless only in print) Ade throws the covers back and stands up, ready to leap like a gazelle...

The speed of a gazelle was only matched by the squealing speed of the rest of us leaping back in abject horror. Ade had had is naked sodden skin against something truly horrible... The bloke who owned the room had apparently not washed his sheets all year (which is bad enough, and I empathise with the other story tellers with 'shrouds of Turin' horrors) but this was further sullied with certain.. well... fluids...

Most of us keep the obvious 'I blow my nose with it' toilet role by the bed or keep additional white 'sport socks' for er.. clean ups. Chappie had chosen to lie in his... all year. It was roughly a circle about two foot in diameter and several eigths of an inch thick (it was hard like a paper plate... we investigated in purpose bought rubber gloves and long sleaved attire at a later, and suitably drunken, date... we used sticks too)... and was also matted with random pubes... truly.. truly... TRULY RANK!

Ade washed with bleach (which in all fairness was probably only the second time our bathroom had seen bleach that year as we well all still waiting for our mums to come and clean up after us). He still spent the last few weeks slumbering in his own come and we watched him move out in fascination... the last thing he took out... rolled under his arm.. crunchy sheet... probably asked his mum to clean it too.

I also have to admit that I moved to London last summer and we had a weekend without power... so I sat in my shorts (this isn't a theme it was just that remarkably hot end of June week and my beer belly now negates any homo erotic imagary) and read and drank cider for two days... my flatmate returned and remarked 'dude, you stink1'... it's been a long time since I have been that embarrassed... and I often follow through due to IBS! I'm sure you're all pleased to know that.
(Pachen9, Sat 24 Mar 2007, 22:24, Reply)