When I just wanted to sleep

After a night out at the LRV, all I wanted was to go to sleep, I was wrecked. Instead, however, the night turned into a Guiter Hero competition in my room, much to my annoyance. So while cursing the day I ever brought the damned game, I took my duvet, pillow and lack of self awareness, and slept in the horrifically uncomfortable Doulton corridor. For two ridiculously painful hours, I tried to nod off, before I moved back into my lovely room, and proceeded to throw Guitar Hero out the chuffing window.

My head got shaved

I lived with a lad called Dan Squire. Dan made Hugh Heffner look like a virgin, in the first week at Doulton he probably pulled around ten girls, and by his standards, that was a poor week. So me, being the naive silly chum I was back then, bet Dan that he couldn't get with this one girl, and if he did, he could shave my head.
He got with the girl.
So, on the first Thursday of the year, the whole floor gathered round as my striking blonde locks were ripped to the ground, and I was left with a daft looking mohawk. I never made a bet involving any of my hair again.

Blocking John's door off with Strongbow cans

John had no idea that his room had been blocked off with cider cans while he was away, my personal favourite bit is when he actually kicks the cans forward, so they all go into his room.

The happiest picture ever

I think this speaks for itself

Bonding

The night me and Nick Kiefert first bonded, with a badminton racket and a copy of the complimentary FHM magazine in the Doulton help me kit. It definately helped.

Getting smurfed

I got dressed up as a smurf for the lrv, and got back for some smurfing, but instead got wedgied to within an inch of my life.

Passing out in doorway

After a rather forgettable night at gobble (not for the poor quality of the night, just for the excessive binging on ribena) I got back to the safety of the Doulton halls, but just couldn't make those extra few inches (story of...) to my bed.