Returning the Costa Coffee sign, and other things I did when drunk lately

The legend of the Costa Coffee sign reached a dramatic conclusion last night when the sign was returned to the hotel from whence it came. For those of you who are unfamiliar with Chamberlain lore, let me fill you in. Once upon a time (and to be more precise that time was in our mid-2nd year) the members of Chamberlain House set forth for a night of intoxicating beverages at the Black Widow, a public house that at its time was the very hub of student drinking in the South Kensington area. A few pints of beer and some cocktails with biblical names later, the group (plus a few token Americans) set forth on the journey home. It was then that we passed the Marriott on Cromwell Road and saw the sign.

Like a shimmering beacon it called to us. As it sat proud on the pavement outside the hotel, the sign just screamed "take me". Comparisons with the legend of Excalibur would be forgiven, for at this moment we could have no idea what epic adventures lay ahead of us. The steal would be perfect; infinitely better than a traffic cone, and a mere 2 minutes from our front door. A plan was quickly hatched to take the sign; two students flanked it and guided it from the front whilst another lifted it from the rear and provided the support. Not a single hitch blighted our operation, and it was soon perched gracefully in our living room.

Many years passed, and the sign showed its use in many ways. The rotatable arrow provided the perfect mechanism for directing people to countless parties, and it was also found to function as the world's coolest doorstop. As a coat and hat stand it performed admirably, trouncing other drunken steals that came and went, such as the bus stop sign. Bus alas, its day had to come, for no Chamberlain members had either the means or the inclination to take it home. So we decided that after so many years of joy, we should return it to show our gratitude to the kind people at Marriott. We chose to do this at our last ever party, the "BBQ Roof Party". Myself and Alex (star of the recent article "Ooooh , Ladyboys!") did the deed, with Marc following to document the event, and with two other guys for moral support. Alex's sombrero hat added a tough of class to the whole affair.

Turning up at a hotel to return a beer trophy sure did confuse a lot of people. The random Americans who left the hotel at the same time were quite perplexed, but seemed to think it was cool whatever we were doing. The same cannot be said for the security guard, who scowled at us from behind the glass of the hotel. However a quick mooning by Alex soon sorted him out. The message we left on the sign, complete with Marc's beautiful pun, read "3 years of happy memories. It's bean great!! xxx"


In other news, said roof party went swimmingly. The weather held out, and a good time was had by all. All-in-all it capped off an amazing three years of Chamberlain House. Three years of fun, frolics, and the most awesome parties around. Goodbye Chamberlain, it's bean great!

Ooooh , Ladyboys!

Ever had a ladyboy? I have! In fact I've had two. I've had ladyboys with a friend. I've even had a double-ladyboy, and I must say they're great! There are things a ladyboy can do you to you that you wouldn't even dream of!

Of course, I'm not talking about transsexual prostitutes from the Far-East, but I am in fact referring to a drink conceived of in the first series of I'm Alan Partridge by Steve Coogan. The story goes thus; in one episode Alan is at the bar of his hotel and orders a gin & tonic. Just then his PA, Lynn appears and Alan offers her a drink, she chooses a Baileys. Next on the scene are two men from the film crew with whom Alan is about to shoot a corporate video for Hamilton's Water Breaks. Eager to impress them, Alan offers them a drink (they select lager) and gets the same for himself. By this point Lynn has wandered off without her Baileys, leaving Alan standing at the bar in front of a pint of lager, a G&T and a Baileys. The two men are perplexed, and quiz Alan on his collection of drinks. The quick-thinking Alan says it's a chaser, but he is then asked what its name is. It is well-known that Alan has a hidden fetish for ladyboys (here I DO refer to Asian transsexual prostitutes) so, being the first thing to come to mind, Alan dubs the drink a ladyboy. The film crew guys guess that this is because gin & tonic and Baileys are a lady's drink whereas lager is a man's drink. By confirming this, Alan ensures the two men do not find out about his disturbing fetish. All that is left is for Alan to drink his ladyboy, which proves very potent. On completion of the chaser he weakly utters the phrase "ooooh, ladyboys!" (click here for the clip of Alan drinking the first ever ladyboy).

Well, inspired by Alan, me and fellow Partridge fan Alex decided to give this a go. Our first ladyboy was at Imperial College Union. The guy behind the bar was a bit confused when Alex asked for a "ladyboy" without explanation, but when the details of the drink were revealed, all was well. The drink actually went down pretty well. It's important you get the order right, or it doesn't have the right effect (it goes lager, Baileys, and then G&T). A union ladyboy will set you back around £6.

Our second was at The Goose in Fulham. After watching the latest footie match (a goalless draw between Holland and Argentina) and seeing in Jess' birthday, our attention turned to ladyboys. One thing to note about The Goose is that it is awesome. More specifically, it is cheap; a pint Greene Kind IPA is £1.50. What's more, their spirits are doubles unless otherwise specified. Your wallet won't notice because doubles are so cheep here, but you'll get mighty drunk! Anyway, I digress. Point is, as we were in a hurry to get in our ladyboys before closing, we forgot about this. Next thing we knew we were each sitting in front of a double-ladyboy with less than a half-hour left until closing. An indication of how cheap The Goose is is that this cost us £6.10 each, pretty much the same as a single-ladyboy in the Union! Now a ladyboy, as you can imagine, is a challenging drink at the best of times, but we bravely saw them away in our allotted time. As I'm sure you can also imagine, a ladyboy will get you drunk; needless to say we finished the evening quite merry, and went home to watch some Alan.

Hair chronicles IV

Further to the post below, the QA can report that his hair was instrumental in a recent pull. The girl in question was heard to explicitly complement the hair, citing its curliness as a particularly appealing feature. This puts to rest fears that long hair might reduce the QA's overall pulling rate.

For all my readers who are yet to make the transition to long hair, I offer the following advice. Two kinds of people have long hair; hot male models and physics postgrads who can't be arsed to cut it. In order to come across as the former, it is imperative that you avoid mentioning physics at all costs. As hard as it may be, you must resist the urge to wow her with the M-squared of your laser. Then you just sit back and let the hair do the work.

Pulling is the new integrating

Pulling season is back with a vengeance. In a recent excursion to top London bar Tiger Tiger, both Pete Shardlow and the QA himself pulled smokin' hotties in what pundits are already calling a "quality night, mate".

Legends told of a dude; a dude who's pulling life was turned around by simple frequentation of this legendary establishment. Lore has it that he went by the name of Andy. Andy was once a mediocre puller at best, boasting the lady-charming abilities of your average Imperial computer scientist. Then one day, when the moon was high, he stumbled across a bar so rammed full of fitties that even the fabled beast of TBR could not have failed to cop off with countless beautiful women. To end the legend, our hero returned to this mystical cave of sirens up to three times, each time returning home with his prize of a lovely lady.

On hearing this tale, a ramshackle group of Physicists, Cambridgians and Alseburyites was hastily assembled from across the land. Donning their pulling boots, they headed to Tiger Tiger in search of some "banging tottie". After some heated debates about the manliest way to remove one's long hair from in front of one's eyes (the QA's "neck flick" lost to Marc's method of pretending to scratch your head), and about whose blog pun was better (mine was), they got to work. Their efforts were soon rewarded when Pete Shardlow racked up an astonishing total of 4 (unconfirmed) pulls throughout the night. The Quantum Angler, not of a mind to wear out his aforementioned boots in one night, pulled just the one smokin' hottie. As for the non-physicists in our crew, the QA knows little (he was busy).

To conclude, it would seem there must be something in the air at Tiger Tiger, where the ability to solve the Schrödinger equation is no barrier to success with a woman. Needless to say, we shall be visiting it again.

Simon and Cħarlie simultaneously pose for photo

It looks like I've managed to sneek my nickname into the name list for the IC Physics leavers' photo. There's no h bar, but you can't win everything!

In other leavers' photo-related news, we can now formally identify the guy who's been swanning around with Alex (not a physicist) Wood's name, causing all sorts of email confusion mayhem.