bloody hell, where do I start??
I went to Uni at Warwick. The union bars served a drink that I'm told was banned by a good number of perhaps more sensible (or less money-grabbing) institutions. Anyway, 'Purple' - a sticky sweet snakebite (lager and cider) with a double dash of blackcurrant - was all the rage. They even put the ribena bottles in the optics.

So, it's my birthday (19 I think) and for some reason I've ended up standing by the bar, somewhat worse for wear and about 6 purples down, for some reason talking with a load of utter chavs in their shiny white reebok classics. Now the drink may be called purple, but it comes up red. Deep red. (according to the paramedics, stomach-lining red). Cue me feeling a lot better and chavs running off to fuss over their newly decorated reeboks!

Also, same location, later that year and a morning after - had to catch a bus to Leamington. Worked my way from the halls to the bus stop (about 3 mins walk) via every bush, toilet, quiet corner, bin and sink I could find. My god I was feeling rancid. The bus leaves and after the first few corners I'm feeling the stomach knotting and writhing again. The only thing I had was a bag from the Uni shop. One of those ones with holes punched for some unknown fucking reason in the bottom. Made quite a good sieve...

Apologies for ramblingness.
(jimllbreakit might actually have a job now... woo!, Fri 20 Aug 2004, 5:22, Reply)