|Gasoline, Cow's Eyes and Booze - Frosh Week Fun:
"Mmmm, okay, you want a thousand points?" A knowing glance sideways. "We put a bit of gas on your dick and set it on fire. Its just for a minute!"
In that instance I could afford to stand back and give a delighted, horrified squeal. There was more in store for me later, but first I could watch a very, very drunk frosh, eager to please but naturally defensive as any man is of his tender parts, weigh up the cred vs. inmate damage options before him. And as the other objective of frosh, apart from sprawling alcoholic ruination, is securing encounters with the cuties youve spotted ASAP before they:
a) change their minds or
b) start to look less cute,
the intimate damage was a weighty consideration indeed. Ultimately it probably wouldnt have mattered: by the end of an obligatory trawl of 12 pubs (pint or a double in each), singed pubes were really the least of the impediments to action.
But what is it with these initiation rituals that form the best and worst part of your induction to tertiary education? These were my first weeks at med school in England, (an undergraduate degree over here) and although I was perhaps a slightly conservative youngster, I had done my fair share of partying. But nothing really prepared me for the debauched, heathen traditions the Ents team were resurrecting for us. Some of my best memories, and most shameful moments (I will never tell, not even you guys can know it all) stem from these formative experiences. Its true that medical school is famous for this type of excess, some say due to the pressure, some that its part of the professional "bonding" experience. Maybe its just that you can get away with it (its only later they realize youre far from being a pillar of society just yet). And I dont know exactly what its like over there but Ive heard a few stories. Suffice to say, the pressure can be enormous, and I have to say that I dont think the rate of alcoholism among doctors
(one of the worst professions) is totally unrelated.
So there I was, with the words "The Shakespeares Head" written across my bare chest, having licked hot chilli sauce from someones "bits down there", and watched my best friend wrestle a toy snake naked in a busy square in central London. Edifying stuff (and yes, I am still holding out on the goriest details).
I suppose the lesson for today would be something a bit hokey, admittedly, but really, really, oh so true. Consider one thing as you embark on these adventures, and before it just doesnt matter any more through the haze. Dont worry what others say about your health, reputation, and the rest. If youre the sort who is happy to stake out the year long moniker "Bridget who had a cows eyeball stuck up where the sun dont shine" (yes, but not me) then by God power to you and have fun whos gonna tell you different? Yup, its just you now. Otherwise
well you know the rest.
More entries from Jess coming soon!
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