chopped bops flop - St Hugh's College JCR

chopped bops flop - St Hugh's College JCR

chopped bops flop - St Hugh's College JCR


You also want an ePaper? Increase the reach of your titles

YUMPU automatically turns print PDFs into web optimized ePapers that Google loves.

12<br />

the back page - you can go soon, children...<br />

The latest phenomena: that thing called<br />

DARTS...<br />

Three arrows, two players, one dream - daaaaarts!<br />

“Mad” Maz Reardon reports<br />

Have you noticed louder<br />

cheers in the bar than<br />

usual. It’s not just<br />

because of the new Old<br />

Hookie beer (though,<br />

cheers for that, Vas) or<br />

the 5 quid Pino Grigio<br />

wine...it’s all about that<br />

little corner on the side,<br />

the one no one’s discovered<br />

until now...<br />

Darts is fast emerging as the<br />

most popular sport in <strong>St</strong><br />

<strong>Hugh's</strong> and is finally getting<br />

the recognition it deserves.<br />

While the international circuit<br />

spews forth beer-gutted, golddripping<br />

hustlers, <strong>St</strong> <strong>Hugh's</strong><br />

boasts some of the most gentlemanly<br />

darts experts in the<br />

game. Cult heroes such as<br />

Phil "the power" Dobbs and<br />

Alex "heavy metal darts"<br />

Webb are creeping up from<br />

the underground into positions<br />

of <strong>Hugh's</strong> royalty. These<br />

demi-gods pound the board<br />

with 180 after 180, and yet<br />

they remain modest in their<br />

The Last Word...<br />

There was a fear last term that<br />

<strong>Hugh's</strong> News would turn into<br />

Gardener's News. Despite<br />

Ross' earnest 'sponsorship'<br />

conferences plea, it just didn't<br />

happen. But enthused by her<br />

American 'evangelical' fervour,<br />

Hattie has dragged Ross from<br />

rehab and here we are today.<br />

It's a hard act to follow, though.<br />

Sam and Marcus - absolute<br />

legends - will be tomorrow's<br />

Woodward and Bernstein (look<br />

it up!). And a brief word to our<br />

dear freshmen, who've never<br />

experienced the erotic delights<br />

in the lodge when you see the<br />

paper's inviting flap in your<br />

pidge. We try to be political,<br />

but invariably we end up getting<br />

pissed. That's <strong>St</strong> <strong>Hugh's</strong>.<br />

victory over the arrows; truly<br />

an inspiration for<br />

young dartists<br />

the world<br />

over.<br />

The undisputed<br />

King<br />

of Darts is<br />

Jules "the<br />

Adonis"<br />

Aldridge. He maintains a<br />

steady stance hugging the<br />

darts corner on a nightly<br />

basis, overseeing his young<br />

protégés with pride and<br />

encouragement. His flock of<br />

curly hair, the pin-stripe jacket,<br />

the rollies - they all<br />

scream "champion" and<br />

prove his worth as first team<br />

captain.<br />

Conversely, the second team<br />

captain, Matt Jobber, is<br />

shrouded in controversy<br />

wherever he goes. It was he<br />

that led the team into the<br />

infamous "Worcester brawl",<br />

the match that resulted in his<br />

Get used to it, biatch! So send<br />

in your silly-drunken-illegal<br />

stories galore. But there's only<br />

so many "Oh my god, I did<br />

something naughty last night"<br />

anecdotes and we know there<br />

are serious issues at heart, too.<br />

<strong>Hugh's</strong> News embraces everything,<br />

whether your poison is<br />

Lambrini or Don Perrigone.<br />

Incidentally, always useful for<br />

inspiration. (name one journalist<br />

who's a tee-totaller?)<br />

Until next time, stay safe (top<br />

right pidge in the lodge!)<br />

From your hosts, Hattie "I friggin<br />

love celery" Brett and Ross<br />

"it's gotta be Gardner's"<br />

Burley.<br />

men retreating from the fray<br />

throwing insults and punches<br />

as well as the occasional<br />

dart. Since<br />

that day of shame,<br />

barbed wire<br />

fences have been<br />

erected in<br />

Worcester bar to<br />

keep the crowd from<br />

the oche. There has also<br />

been a warrant issued for the<br />

immediate circumcision of<br />

the one called "Chesney"<br />

(that likes to play with no<br />

trousers on). More recently,<br />

Jobber's team selection has<br />

been called into serious<br />

doubt, overlooking such talents<br />

as "on the" Mark Brown<br />

and "Cheeky Bull" Gerlis<br />

despite their shameless sexual<br />

surrender to the big man. Mr<br />

Jobber commented that<br />

although underhand tricks<br />

like these are welcome, they<br />

do not guarantee throwing<br />

time and no receipts will be<br />

issued.<br />

Letter(s) to the<br />

editor...yes, we will<br />

shut up next time.<br />

I am writing to express my concern<br />

at the possible illegal activities<br />

of Mr. Joshua Green. As an<br />

invester in the upcoming<br />

Hugh’s musical, Grease, I am<br />

worried at the unprofessionalism<br />

of the ‘stage manager’.<br />

It has come to my attention that<br />

Mr. Green has been conducting<br />

a number of illicit affairs,<br />

including one with the Producer<br />

of the show, Hattie Brett, and<br />

several members of the cast,<br />

such as Mr. C. Souffle. I am<br />

afraid that unless Mr. Green<br />

cleans up his act and fianlly settles<br />

down, I shall be forced to<br />

withdraw my considerable funding.<br />

I do know of several ‘sex<br />

clinics’ that I would be happy to<br />

recommend.<br />

Yours Sincerely, M Douglas.<br />

Since the rising of the hallowed<br />

game into the popular<br />

spotlight, a new breed of<br />

sports tack has emerged.<br />

"Dart tarts" as they are fondly<br />

known are fast becoming<br />

dominant at <strong>St</strong> <strong>Hugh's</strong>, but<br />

there can only be truly one in<br />

the hearts of college dartists.<br />

"Mad" Maz Reardon, the first<br />

lady of darts, would do anything<br />

for her boys- always<br />

watching, supporting, polishing<br />

darts, and hurling abuse<br />

at the opposition. Although<br />

normally a bubbly girl, one<br />

thing continues to pain<br />

"Mad" Maz: the unrequited<br />

love so often experienced by<br />

darts tack. Maz has carried a<br />

torch for Phil Dobbs for quite<br />

some time. And who can<br />

blame her-he's a hot lump of<br />

180 throwing ass.<br />

All in all, darts has no rival<br />

and no sport dare try rival it.<br />

One time for my homeboysdaaaaaaaaaaarts!<br />

See you at<br />

the oche.<br />

This issue was<br />

brought to you by...<br />

Co-editors<br />

Hattie “smoking” Brett<br />

Ross “Gardeners” Burley<br />

Layout<br />

Janis “sex” Ridsdel<br />

Business Man<br />

Tom “masturbating” Rafferty<br />

Digital Guru<br />

Tom “naked bungee jumping”<br />

Bull<br />

Contributors<br />

Mary “pinot grigio” Page; Pete<br />

“double gin at lunch”<br />

Laverack; John “trans-Alpine<br />

goat herding” Blake; Liam<br />

“soulboy” Brooker; Mairianne<br />

“gossip” Reardon; Jay “mark”<br />

Gerlis Adams; Mark “Jay”<br />

Brown<br />

* No, I haven’t gone mad editing<br />

these fine pages, but these are<br />

some of the things my lovely people<br />

have been doing while procrastinating<br />

from work, or writing<br />

the articles you read today.<br />

in this issue:<br />


OUT<br />

“CELEBS”<br />

DARTS<br />

BEER<br />

Sounds like the perfect<br />

lads trip to Ayia Napa<br />

Issue 1<br />

Hilary Term<br />

----------<br />

Good things come to<br />

those who wait<br />


Spurred on by the Traffic Light bop’s sensual succeses, Hughsies<br />

are still up in arms about the Dean’s decision to end <strong>bops</strong> early:<br />

Carngage as a result<br />

Last Saturday I had the misfortune<br />

of going to the Keble Bop.<br />

Now, don't get me wrong,<br />

Keble has one of the most<br />

remarkable and architecturally<br />

handsome bars in Oxford,<br />

looking like something straight<br />

out of a George Lucas wet<br />

dream. But it's small. Very<br />

small. And when you pack two<br />

hundred people inside, it<br />

makes the Purple Turtle's<br />

'unique' atmosphere seem pure<br />

and chaste.<br />

It was then that a Keble student<br />

who shares, some might say, a<br />

more than remarkable resemblance<br />

to Alice Robinson, said<br />

how “garbage” it was compared<br />

to the last <strong>St</strong>. <strong>Hugh's</strong> bop<br />

she went to.<br />

And that's the point. This college,<br />

which I love dearly, is not<br />

exactly famous for many<br />

things. Mention <strong>St</strong>. <strong>Hugh's</strong> to<br />

someone outside college, and<br />

more often than not, they'll<br />

make some oh-so-witty remark<br />

along the lines of "<strong>St</strong>. <strong>Hugh's</strong>?<br />

Isn't that in Cambridge?", or,<br />

"Is it true that <strong>Hugh's</strong> has its<br />

own postcode?" However,<br />

every other Saturday, the college<br />

bar was packed, not only<br />

with Hughsies, but regularly<br />

with students from <strong>St</strong>. Anne's,<br />

<strong>St</strong>. Catz, Keble and Somerville.<br />

The <strong>St</strong>. <strong>Hugh's</strong> <strong>bops</strong> were<br />

famous, and rightly so. The<br />

spirit and atmosphere present<br />

at <strong>bops</strong> were incredible - they<br />

were well organised events<br />

which, for me, symbolised<br />

everything that <strong>St</strong>. <strong>Hugh's</strong> was<br />

all about. I helped with setting<br />

up <strong>bops</strong> on many occasions,<br />

and it always surprised how<br />

much effort, creativity, and<br />

pride went into each and every<br />

bop. <strong>St</strong>udents would give up<br />

their Saturdays to work on the<br />

bop, and feel a true sense of<br />

achievement as they watched<br />

people hit the dancefloor and<br />

soak up the atmosphere.<br />

The end of the evening would<br />

be marked with a particularly<br />

cheesy track - my favourite<br />

was 'Take my Breath Away'…<br />

an ideal stilton which gave<br />

boys or girls that final window<br />

of opportunity to 'go in for the<br />

kill'. After the bop, people<br />

would amble off to bed, happy<br />

until the fateful next morning<br />

as they learnt their frankly<br />

embarrassing actions of the<br />

previous night.<br />

The situation now is rather different.<br />

It is not that <strong>bops</strong> have<br />

lost all their atmosphere, or<br />

people have less fun… yet<br />

something has gone. The decision<br />

by the SCR, and in particular<br />

the Dean, to ignore the will<br />

of the <strong>JCR</strong> is unacceptable and<br />

simply wrong.<br />

The argument the SCR often<br />

dismisses, that longer <strong>bops</strong><br />

keep students away from town<br />

on a Saturday night is losing<br />

weight, as violent crime in the<br />

city spirals out of control; two<br />

weeks ago, a student from<br />

Somerville was mugged at<br />

knife point near the graveyard<br />

on <strong>St</strong>. Giles.<br />

Yet there are other arguments.<br />

Firstly, the bar is losing a huge<br />

amount of money - money that<br />

could and should be used to<br />

Chesney’s Mole<br />

improve college facilities (like<br />

heating, perhaps?). Secondly,<br />

people are less willing to help<br />

set up <strong>bops</strong>, abating the positive<br />

atmosphere. Thirdly, and<br />

the most important point for<br />

me, is that the SCR failed to<br />

heed or act upon a massive<br />

petition that was held last year,<br />

signed by the vast majority of<br />

the <strong>JCR</strong>, to keep <strong>bops</strong> as they<br />

were.<br />

This total disregard for <strong>JCR</strong><br />

opinion is disturbing, and perhaps<br />

a warning of things to<br />

come. The Dean has argued<br />

that he is simply enforcing a<br />

rule that was in place many<br />

years ago. Thus, the natural<br />

question becomes, why was<br />

this 'rule' not enforced before,<br />

and why was it enforced now.<br />

These are questions that the<br />

Dean has failed to address.<br />

<strong>Hugh's</strong> News calls upon the<br />

Dean to come to a <strong>JCR</strong> meeting<br />

and address our arguments, and<br />

answer questions. Surely it is<br />

only right that we as fee paying<br />

students have an adequate<br />

explanation for something precious<br />

to us, that was perhaps<br />

wrongly taken away.

2 what you need to know<br />

So, the vote is over, and we all<br />

know how it went. Although<br />

the top-up fees legislation will<br />

have to pass through numerous<br />

other barriers to become<br />

the law of the land, the principle<br />

of free education, for the<br />

time being, appears to have<br />

been lost. This is a great<br />

shame for the country generally,<br />

and those students now in<br />

further education colleges and<br />

Sixth Forms, who will have to<br />

face the government's new<br />

plans. They will have to hock<br />

themselves up to an amount of<br />

debt for fees ranging up the<br />

£3000 a year (and it seems<br />

that almost all unis will be<br />

charging this), and further<br />

debts for living<br />

costs - it will<br />

not be a pretty<br />

picture for<br />

those who<br />

emerge on the other side<br />

of the government's<br />

brave new world.<br />

Those students<br />

from lower<br />

income backgrounds<br />

who<br />

have been<br />

offered contradictory<br />

and confusing help from the<br />

HE Bill may or may not<br />

choose to attend university<br />

now - if they do, will they<br />

choose Oxford? This question<br />

is central to the future of this<br />

university. The Vice<br />

Chancellor might well have<br />

supported and welcomed the<br />

introduction of these fees, but<br />

I believe that he is fundamentally<br />

wrong to do so, and that<br />

is these fees go ahead<br />

unchecked, this university<br />

will come to resemble a relic<br />

of the past, not a modern educational<br />

institution.<br />

The introduction of fees has<br />

already led to a decline in the<br />

number of students from<br />

lower socio-economic groups<br />

attending higher education,<br />

the predications (if one<br />

ignores the government's<br />

hopelessly optimistic ones<br />

based such economist's<br />

notions as "perfect information")<br />

are that fewer will go<br />

when the fees are three times<br />

higher. For Oxford this presents<br />

special prob-<br />

lems, in that this<br />

university<br />

already has<br />

Top Up Tragedy<br />

Top Up fees will not make this university better, argues newly elected OUSU president,<br />

John Blake. They will merely send it spiralling into its own past.<br />

enormous difficulty<br />

attracting<br />

students from<br />

non-tradition backgrounds:<br />

presented often in<br />

the media as elitist if not also<br />

sexist and racist (and, let us<br />

face it, not always as clear of<br />

those charges as we<br />

would all like it to be),<br />

Oxford had difficulty<br />

widening access when<br />

university education<br />

was free.<br />

There was a constant assumption<br />

that Oxford was more<br />

expensive to attend than elsewhere<br />

in the country; a gem of<br />

truth was contained in this<br />

statement, in that Oxford is an<br />

extremely expensive place in<br />

which to live, but now there<br />

is no way to hide: Oxford<br />

will cost you more, and no<br />

matter what the kudos of the<br />

name, it is difficult to see how<br />

this will attract poorer students.<br />

Thus, top up fees will<br />

cost Oxford a chance to genuinely<br />

broaden its access base,<br />

and the University will return<br />

from whence it came: back to<br />

being a finishing school for<br />

the upper classes and those<br />

aspiring to attain those heights<br />

- attended only by civil service<br />

wannabes, soon-to-be hotshot<br />

City bankers, and the<br />

class of lawyer who doesn't<br />

take legal aid cases, perhaps<br />

interspersed with a few dimwit<br />

progeny of the rich and<br />

famous whose wealth opens<br />

doors closed to all others.<br />

Perhaps in forty years time,<br />

Oxford will be able to lay<br />

claim to having produced a<br />

bombastic, inarticulate, yet<br />

extremely wealthy national<br />

leader just as<br />

“Not yet time to<br />

surrender all hope<br />

- the war is not<br />

Yale can with<br />

George W.<br />

Bush. It seems<br />

unlikely we<br />

will be able to<br />

lay claim to<br />

many teachers,<br />

unless they are those who<br />

agree to be shackled to their<br />

job for life in order to pay off<br />

their university debts.<br />

over...”<br />

The future may well seem<br />

bleak indeed for those who<br />

believe in the university<br />

generally and this<br />

University in particular<br />

as an institution<br />

with<br />

immense<br />

potential<br />

f o r<br />

social<br />

change<br />

and betterment<br />

and not<br />

merely personal<br />

economic improvement, but it<br />

is not yet time to surrender all<br />

hope - the war is not over yet.<br />

In the immediate term, it<br />

might seem there is little that<br />

can be done to prevent the<br />

coming of variable top-up<br />

fees, and perhaps that is right.<br />

As I said, for the present, the<br />

basic principle may have been<br />

lost. But there still remains the<br />

committee stage from the Bill<br />

in the Commons (where we<br />

will discover what concessions<br />

it was that bought off the<br />

Labour rebels) before it goes<br />

into the Lords, where the issue<br />

of fees is likely to remain<br />

unchanged, but the new<br />

Access Regulator will be torn<br />

to pieces. There are chances<br />

for lobbying at all these points<br />

to ensure that, even if we cannot<br />

cut the heart from the Bill,<br />

we can at least ensure that its<br />

poisonous effects on higher<br />

education in this country can<br />

be slowed long enough for a<br />

government of genuine vision<br />

and conviction to correct<br />

this manifest<br />

wrong. And in<br />

that hope lies<br />

also the<br />

hope of<br />

this<br />

university<br />

-<br />

the Vice<br />

Chancellor's<br />

vision of Oxford<br />

under this new fees<br />

regime is clearly distorted<br />

by an understandable<br />

but unhelpful desire for<br />

more money however it is<br />

acquired. As students of this<br />

university, who will be forever<br />

tied to it, we should all<br />

struggle as best we can to<br />

ensure that a better vision of<br />

what this university could be,<br />

what higher education in this<br />

country could be, wins out<br />

from this debate.<br />

11 ...and, no dancing at the Bridge doesn’t count<br />

‘We are top of the League’<br />

Digging deep in crunch match, the Yellows head for the top of the<br />

table<br />

The Gaffer scores his 48th goal for the club...but who’s been<br />

counting?<br />

Friday 23rd January:<br />

<strong>St</strong> John's 3 <strong>St</strong> <strong>Hugh's</strong> 3<br />

A single point was enough to<br />

take <strong>St</strong> <strong>Hugh's</strong> to the top of<br />

Division 1, despite a slightly<br />

disappointing 3-3 draw at <strong>St</strong>.<br />

John's.<br />

<strong>Hugh's</strong> are now ahead of Jesus<br />

only on goal difference, and<br />

Forder's men will be contemplate<br />

only at the end of the<br />

season whether this was one<br />

point gained or two points<br />

lost.<br />

The opening stages saw a typically<br />

defensive line-up struggle<br />

to deal with the determination<br />

and, at times good ball<br />

play by <strong>St</strong> John's. They were<br />

nodded in front early on, with<br />

Heath struggling to make<br />

ground from a set piece.<br />

Despite plenty of possesion<br />

and effort, it was John's who<br />

extended their lead half an<br />

hour in, with the <strong>St</strong>. <strong>Hugh's</strong><br />

defence left uncharacteristically<br />

exposed and duly punished<br />

for a two goal deficit.<br />

Now it was a game for the<br />

battlers, and it was none other<br />

than Trevor Smith who got on<br />

the end of a cross to pull one<br />

back for the Yellows. Smith<br />

should be proud of his goal, a<br />

fine header from a cross.<br />

Another twist led to <strong>St</strong> John's<br />

extending their lead just<br />

before half time. A great cross<br />

from the right caused confusion<br />

and even the best efforts<br />

of The Cat and Levine weren't<br />

enough to keep the ball out.<br />

Half Time: <strong>St</strong> John's 3 <strong>St</strong><br />

<strong>Hugh's</strong> 1<br />

A half time switch saw Will<br />

Hardyment replace the subdued<br />

Mott, and dividends<br />

were paid within a minute.<br />

Another superb Paterson<br />

delivery from a corner was<br />

despatched with aplomb by<br />

the unmarked Levine and<br />

<strong>Hugh's</strong> were back in the game.<br />

Thomas replaced the bustling<br />

Goddard, and with Lockwood<br />

and Hardyment working hard<br />

in the midfield, <strong>Hugh's</strong> finally<br />

got their deserved equaliser,<br />

this time from the head of<br />

Forder, his 48th goal for the<br />

Club.<br />

From this point on, the crowd<br />

were in for a real cracker;<br />

chances, late challenges,bookings,<br />

the lot. Lockwood and<br />

Forder took the brunt of the<br />

abuse, both feld cynically by<br />

the excellent <strong>St</strong> John's centre<br />

half.<br />

Despite all the hustle and bustle,<br />

a draw was a fair enough<br />

result, and was enough to take<br />

<strong>St</strong>. <strong>Hugh's</strong> five points clear of<br />

third spot. Everyone will now<br />

be aware of how important it<br />

will be to maintain this position,<br />

with both the Cuppers<br />

and League titles in mind.<br />

Full Time: <strong>St</strong> John's 3 <strong>St</strong>.<br />

<strong>Hugh's</strong> 3<br />

The <strong>St</strong>ats<br />

<strong>St</strong> <strong>Hugh's</strong>:<br />

Wilson, Kenny, Bath, Levine,<br />

Smith, Lockwood (Pyrah),<br />

Mott (Hardyment),<br />

Goddard (Thomas), Paterson,<br />

Heath, Forder.<br />

Goals: Forder, Levine, Smith.<br />

Man of the Match:<br />

Lockwood - worked so so<br />

hard<br />

5 star rating: *** - let's see<br />

what it means at the end of the<br />

season.<br />

This Season’s<br />

signings<br />

The departure of Captain Cohen<br />

and his counterparts last year,<br />

threatened to leave a void in<br />

SHFC. But, with the boys going<br />

top this weekend, it appears that<br />

freshers and co replacing finalists<br />

have left Forder’s men well<br />

placed to make a serious challenge<br />

for Champions this season.<br />

Let’s meet ‘em...<br />

Adam Levine:<br />

Dave Cohen: The Second<br />

Coming. The gritty Mancunian<br />

has been a key asset to the <strong>St</strong><br />

<strong>Hugh's</strong> defence so far. Despite<br />

advertising himself as a midfielder,<br />

his extraordinary heading<br />

ability saw the Gaffer plant<br />

him at the heart of the defence,<br />

with immediate results. It must<br />

be a “Levinho” of some quality<br />

to unlock his partnership with<br />

Bath.<br />

Alan Glesson:<br />

One last hurrah for the 6”7 42<br />

year old Oirishman who’s come<br />

down from the boardroom.<br />

(Interesting fact - he earns 250<br />

squid a minute).<br />

James Van der Bath:<br />

The wiry centre back is the only<br />

player to have played every<br />

minute of the campaign so far<br />

this season, and what a season<br />

he has had. Commanding and<br />

strong in the air, he is becoming<br />

a cult hero with his trademark<br />

hard tackles and outrageous<br />

shouts.<br />

Simon Goddard:<br />

The 'little graduate' has a touch<br />

and the grace of Paul Scholes.<br />

Can play anywhere on the field<br />

apparently, and has greatly bolstered<br />

female season ticket<br />

sales, after being voted Sexiest<br />

man in the football club. [Ed -<br />

is this hard..?] But, it’s his performances<br />

on the pitch that<br />

have won him the greatest<br />

respect, scoring and creating<br />

important goals at important<br />


10 sport...<br />

At the end of last term, 900 students<br />

from Oxford and<br />

Cambridge went on the<br />

'VarsityTrip' - a skiing/boozing<br />

(in pretty equal proportions)<br />

holiday to Austria. The introduction<br />

of some great freshers,<br />

left Hughs slalom-ing their way<br />

to the prestigious Cuppers<br />

victory.<br />

The tournament was held one<br />

night on a floodlit piste. Two<br />

slalom courses were set out next<br />

to each other with one skier<br />

from each team racing at the<br />

same time. As soon as one skier<br />

got to the bottom, the next skier<br />

in the team could go down, and<br />

the first team to get all four<br />

skiers down the mountain won.<br />

This year the <strong>St</strong> <strong>Hugh's</strong> team<br />

comprised of Will 'the drunkard'<br />

Hardyment, Maeve 'the revelation'<br />

O'Leary-Barrett, Rob<br />

Grieg-Gran, and 'Swiss' Kris<br />

Alfthan. On paper the team<br />

looked strong, but when<br />

Hardyment turned up completely<br />

off his face after some excessive<br />

apres-ski, it looked as<br />

though we were heading for an<br />

early exit.<br />

Our first race was against<br />

Corpus/Linacre. Hardyment<br />

went off first and was looking<br />

good until he lost his balance<br />

and slipped, allowing the other<br />

team to catch up and overtake<br />

us. O'Leary-Barrett went next<br />

and put in a solid run that<br />

allowed us to claw back some<br />

of our disadvantage. A very<br />

speedy run by a focused Grieg-<br />

Gran allowed us to retake the<br />

lead and Alfthan conslolidated<br />

with a good anchor leg to win<br />

the race.<br />

We were up against LMH in our<br />

quarter final and Hardyment<br />

went off first again, but about<br />

halfway down the course he<br />

clipped a gate and and one of<br />

his skis came off. He made a<br />

determined run back up the hill,<br />

put his ski on, and finished the<br />

course, but we were already far<br />

behind LMH and it looked as<br />

though we were crashing out of<br />

Hugh’s ski to Cuppers Victory<br />

cuppers. The pressure was on,<br />

but the two first years, O'Leary-<br />

Barrett and Grieg-Gran,<br />

responded magnificently by<br />

giving their all with two storming<br />

runs, bringing us back level<br />

with LMH. In the last leg,<br />

Alfthan beat his LMH counterpart<br />

with a strong run to lead <strong>St</strong><br />

Hughs into the semi finals.<br />

After Hardyment's dismal performance<br />

in the first two runs,<br />

he was given one last chance to<br />

redeem himself in the semi<br />

against <strong>St</strong> Peters, the reigning<br />

cuppers champions. Hardyment<br />

went off first and finally<br />

showed his true class as a skier.<br />

His aggressive style coupled<br />

with smooth, crisp turns, left <strong>St</strong><br />

Peters trailing. Two more solid<br />

runs from O'Leary-Barrett and<br />

Grieg-Gran consolidated the<br />

lead. Alfthan was pushed by<br />

Peter's last skier (who cheated)<br />

but managed to hold on for the<br />

win.<br />

The final against Oriel turned<br />

out to be a bit of an anti-climax,<br />

as they were shit. Fast runs<br />

from everyone in the team,<br />

including Hardyment for once,<br />

allowed us to destroy them<br />

completely, clear winners by<br />

one whole run. Hardyment,<br />

Alfthan, and Grieg-Gran all<br />

competed in the Varsity ski<br />

races, too, helping Oxford to<br />

trounce the tabs for the third<br />

year running.<br />

More importantly, the team<br />

managed to beat the Cambridge<br />

cuppers champions, in a drinkoff<br />

during the final night dinner.<br />

As a celebration, Hardyment<br />

gave a VIP Robbie Williamsesque<br />

performance to about 200<br />

people in the bar afterwards.<br />

Other highlights included Sam<br />

Porter, in true public school<br />

fashion, donning a thong, and<br />

Matt Coupland contracting<br />

syphilis. All we need now is<br />

more Hughsies out there next<br />

year to continue our skiing and<br />

drinking domination of the alps.<br />

Guess which one belongs to our very<br />

own Will Hardyment...?<br />

And just to prove some skiing did go on<br />

- when Will had finished drinking...<br />

‘Jolly Hockey <strong>St</strong>icks’<br />

Hugh’s Hockey revived by Janna<br />

Schmidt-Holtz<br />

The Hockey term started<br />

with a training session, for<br />

which three people turned<br />

up: Tessa Pudge, Anna<br />

Littler and Chris Abbott. A<br />

week later the first match<br />

was to be played. <strong>Hugh's</strong> vs.<br />

Brasenose (Cuppers). BNC<br />

managed to get a full team<br />

out while <strong>Hugh's</strong> arrived at<br />

our pitches with eight<br />

players. BNC's superior<br />

numbers and as much as we<br />

hate to admit it skills meant<br />

we unfortunately lost with a<br />

goal difference of ten.<br />

We were beginning to get<br />

more and more concerned<br />

about the future of the team<br />

so we had no choice but a<br />

change in strategy. We<br />

decided to combine with<br />

BNC so that both colleges<br />

could play the league. The<br />

result of last match of the<br />

term <strong>Hugh's</strong>/ BNC vindicated<br />

our decision: We beat <strong>St</strong><br />

Anne's by 8 goals to 0.<br />

Thanks to Camilla, Tessa,<br />

Phil, Sarah, Lucy, Anna,<br />

Becci, Janis and our one and<br />

only fresher Claire, our<br />

hockey team is no longer on<br />

the Red List of Threatened<br />

Species and we have found<br />

ourselves with a good<br />

chance of winning the<br />

league. But if you want to<br />

play, there’s always room<br />

for more..!<br />

3 page three...need we say more<br />

Oxford university is reputed to<br />

be home to the most eligible<br />

bachelors in the country - well,<br />

lets not be coy, the universe!<br />

Oxford ladies however (and, no<br />

I'm NOT about to say are<br />

unworthy in comparison)<br />

often find it hard to discern<br />

who and where they are. Why,<br />

damn it, if the welsh wench<br />

with the voice of an angel has<br />

not been scavenging from our<br />

supply, reportedly bagging Ed<br />

Foy from <strong>St</strong> Peter's, we should<br />

be able to find some ourselves.<br />

Yeah, well anyone can spark<br />

romance in a tropical location<br />

with the carrot of a soon to<br />

be accessed trust fund<br />

dangling tantalisingly near.<br />

Not that impressive. The<br />

point is, Oxford damsels<br />

clearly need to guard the<br />

fish in this proverbial sea<br />

from fisherwomen (very much<br />

including Miss Charlotte<br />

Church) and the first thing to<br />

do is identify the specimens.<br />

We have all seen the beautiful<br />

student peering through the<br />

fronds of his artistically messy<br />

hair as he bends over Keats in<br />

the Rad Cam. It would indeed<br />

take heroic quantities of<br />

courage to approach him,<br />

though I have fantasies about<br />

surreptiously slipping a note in<br />

his book and seeing if it’s ever<br />

recovered. Perhaps, though, we<br />


You know you’ve<br />

missed it, really.<br />

Hugh’s Hunk of the Month<br />

Meet the man who’s escaped<br />

your notice in the bar thus far.<br />

Who wouldn’t let him meet the<br />

parents?<br />

should start nearer to home and<br />

not get ahead of ourselves by<br />

venturing south into Oxford.<br />

And why would we want to<br />

anyway? Who needs Cowley<br />

when there is a wealth of talent<br />

that lurks un-sourced between<br />

<strong>St</strong> Margaret's and Canterbury<br />

Road. Yes, it is time to appreciate<br />

just what a lot <strong>St</strong> <strong>Hugh's</strong><br />

has to offer. Who or what is<br />

lurking beneath that hoody as<br />

you hurry to Bon Appetite in<br />

the drizzle?<br />

A few pointers are necessary,<br />

and who better to start with<br />

than “the-best-looking-geographer<br />

- in - Oxford”:<br />

Mark Hollington.<br />

Mark is a third year who lives<br />

in the fortress that is MTB. He<br />

has many appealing qualities;<br />

his blonde hair, blue eyes and<br />

easily tanning skin make him<br />

more than easy on the eye, and<br />

his dedication to the training<br />

regime of university athletics<br />

has given him quite a six pack.<br />

At his 21st last term he donned<br />

a pair of blue and red<br />

fishnet<br />

tights (don't ask) and<br />

there was many an<br />

appreciative gasp from<br />

the ladies in the vicinity.<br />

Not only does he fulfil<br />

the ideal level of<br />

manliness (tights aside) he is<br />

reportedly quite a whiz in the<br />

kitchen, praised as the 'most<br />

experimental' chef in<br />

Maplethorpe. And you know<br />

what they say, experimental in<br />

the kitchen…. Mark also has a<br />

keen sense of social justice,<br />

'borrowing' 20 pences from the<br />

washing machines for the better<br />

good of his communal kitchen<br />

buddies' diet. He is in touch<br />

with nature; not averse to peeing<br />

off his balcony, and is a<br />

Michaelmas madness and the best of<br />

the rest...knives are out for chemist after having<br />

head turned...shakespeare preferred to sleeping<br />

lyons...ex-president hits the kirb...do venetians prefer<br />

baths or showers?...did dixie pull her arch<br />

enemy?...hannah dreams of a gorilla salad...third years<br />

are boring...darts tart blue balls...repatriated nut feels<br />

strong at home, but he’s no ƒÕscort for her...dunnilin-<br />

guist returns to get biochemical....see a penny knock it BAck, get escorTed Home like a<br />

spack...brown nosed fresher sucks up to auntie...mother’s daughter is best for ppeace..jersey milk<br />

deposited in booth...defenestration is the norm back on this side of the pond...northern island goes<br />

down under...rugby player cracks the reigns at staircase, then bax again to get his dix on...page<br />

(re)turned, mott again...where have all the freshers gone?... english flower prefers to be<br />

french...Mairianne has a small phag...leader with castrated cock-foul...four balls and one new hat<br />

in bed, what a drunken blur...two men do maths x maths does two men = 3 men3 (do the<br />

maths)...gardeners arms closed at hughs, but legend lives on in pub...lad reaches haighs of sex to<br />

be disturbed by kane and then unable...cluster entzed up in oil slick madness...clergymen sees red<br />

for first time in history...gutten tag, ole, music to her ears..capering Pres gets on top of charitable<br />

affairs...returning Princess dares to repeatedly hitch on the Haighway...indecent abbot eats vomit<br />

sprayed by diminutive female centurion...staircase two’s Madame Bovary targeted with military<br />

precision by incomer... Quick brown fox busts open portae... The louist blow...<br />

great advocate of naturalism<br />

flashing two lucky scouts in his<br />

<strong>St</strong> <strong>Hugh's</strong> career and proudly<br />

sunbathing naked on a wolfson<br />

balcony in his second year. We<br />

like a man who is content with<br />

the gifts god has bestowed, yet<br />

at the same time one who is<br />

always ready to laugh at himself.<br />

That should be enough to<br />

break the ice with, good luck<br />

ladies, he is quite a catch. Oh<br />

and he has a minibus driving<br />

license which is always useful.........<br />

Any ideas for next month's eligible<br />

bachelor: email<br />

hughsnews@hotmail.com to<br />

cast your vote: sexier than Idol<br />

Michelle in a swimsuit contest<br />

Wally’s<br />

Winner<br />

We’ve asked the most<br />

important man in college,<br />

who he’d choose as his<br />

belle to the Wonderland<br />

ball...and there’s no arguing<br />

with Wally’s winner:<br />

The lucky lady is Miss Ella<br />

Kirby...<br />

It's often said that returning<br />

linguists keep themselves to<br />

themselves, don't get out much<br />

and are unknown outside of<br />

Maplethorpe. That's not the<br />

case with curvaceous Kirby,<br />

who confirmed her reputation<br />

as a good-time-gal in OFS last<br />

term, when she outshone the<br />

Queen of Page 3, Miss Jordan<br />

(Does anyone actually know<br />

her surname?). Even Lionel<br />

Vinyl's gold jumpsuit suddenly<br />

got a bit too tight, when Jordan<br />

lent down to sign her 32DD<br />

chest. Now if only we could<br />

find the pictures...!

4 features<br />

“Er, condom?” Paxman stumps sex<br />

obsessed Hughsies<br />

Would you take on<br />

this man...?<br />

NO doubt all the readers of<br />

this illustrious rag are well<br />

informed when it comes to<br />

the glittering, intoxicating<br />

world of show business. I certainly<br />

am ever since I discovered<br />

Heat magazine, in which<br />

I learn such gems as the news<br />

that Ozzy Osbourne is writing<br />

a musical about Rasputin. By<br />

the by, I'm reliably informed<br />

by the same organ that<br />

Posh'n'Becks - and my spell<br />

checker isn't the only thing in<br />

the vicinity which objects to<br />

that particular phrase - have<br />

taken steps to rejuvenate their<br />

marriage. I'm sure I speak for<br />

all of us when I say that it's a<br />

great relief.<br />

Imagine my excitement,<br />

therefore, when I discovered<br />

that I was to be a member of<br />

<strong>St</strong> <strong>Hugh's</strong> University<br />

Challenge team, and that we<br />

were to parade ourselves on<br />

the small screen for the<br />

nation's dubious pleasure.<br />

The tests were rigorous: I had<br />

overcome the metaphorical<br />

snake pit of ignorance, the<br />

imaginary ten foot wall of<br />

guesswork, and my own (all<br />

too real) indolence. The final<br />

preparations, too, were arduous.<br />

The night before I had a<br />

ritual haircut, and even took<br />

the unprecedented step of<br />

using conditioner. Like an<br />

arming scene in a classical<br />

poem I was prepared by a pair<br />

of willing grooms. They shall<br />

remain nameless, because the<br />

end result was that my hair<br />

made me look like the bastard<br />

lovechild of a monk and a village<br />

idiot. After the addition<br />

of some very strange wax, I<br />

smelt of fudge, too.* The next<br />

day, our noble band of brothers<br />

were to be thrust like a<br />

purgative enema into the<br />

bloated colon of television:<br />

BBC2 - and my hairstyle<br />

would never be the same<br />

again.<br />

But who were they, these<br />

mighty intellectual wrestlers<br />

who the college sent forth to<br />

grapple with the infinite possibilities<br />

of general knowledge?<br />

Allow me, dear reader,<br />

to enlighten you. Our erst-<br />

while leader has these<br />

days forsworn the<br />

ring of champions in<br />

order to rise to the<br />

lofty heights of the<br />

<strong>JCR</strong> president. In the<br />

far away days of last<br />

June, however, Dom 'The<br />

Dominator" Curran was<br />

feared and renowned as the<br />

man who could force opponents<br />

into merciless submission<br />

with his knowledge of<br />

16th century Dutch politics.<br />

"Raging" Rufus Willett<br />

pounded antagonists into the<br />

ground with his razor sharp<br />

mathematical ripostes.<br />

Beneath the feminine wiles of<br />

Natasha "The Gnasher"<br />

Proietto there bubbled a mind<br />

which was at once fearsomely<br />

crazed yet chillingly<br />

focussed. And finally, there<br />

was me. These days you may<br />

know me as a mild mannered<br />

eccentric in the Clark Kent<br />

sense - you know, retiring yet<br />

handsome etc etc (look, I'm<br />

writing this, OK?) - but in<br />

those glorious days I was<br />

simply Liam "The Body"<br />

Brooker, capable of crushing<br />

all comers beneath a mass of<br />

completely pointless factoids.<br />

Mighty as this team may<br />

sound, however, it was<br />

insignificant compared to the<br />

awesome, barely suppressed<br />

power of one man - "Jake the<br />

Snake" Paxman. On television,<br />

of course, he only ever<br />

appears behind a desk, so let<br />

me go on the record and confirm<br />

that he has two legs, both<br />

of which are fully functional<br />

and well trousered. On those<br />

occasions when he spake unto<br />

his disciples, he displayed a<br />

great deal of professionally<br />

tuned affability. It was obvious,<br />

however, when we saw<br />

him in the canteen shortly<br />

before our epic test, that his<br />

mind disports itself on loftier<br />

planes; the role of the<br />

“the noblest<br />

form of combat<br />

since duels<br />

became illegial”<br />

Hegelian<br />

dialectic in<br />

a post<br />

communist<br />

society;<br />

Kant's 5th<br />

proof of the<br />

existence of God; whether the<br />

fat boy with the fudge hair<br />

had taken the last bottle of Dr<br />

Pepper. Leaving that eminent<br />

individual to his musings, we<br />

proceeded to the make up<br />

department. Whilst the team's<br />

three males were given a<br />

quick wipe down with a<br />

chammy and a bottle of Mr<br />

Sheen, Natasha was undergoing<br />

an hour long transformation<br />

into an 18th century<br />

madam. Finally, however, following<br />

a pep talk from Dom<br />

that would have made Henry<br />

V weep with joy, it was<br />

time to engage in the<br />

noblest form of combat<br />

since duels became<br />

illegal.<br />

To be honest, I don't remember<br />

much about the game.<br />

They did have very elegant<br />

water glasses, though, in contrast<br />

to the cardboard and<br />

plastic set, and I was made to<br />

sit on a cushion - apparently<br />

I'm too stumpy to be a megastar.<br />

Oh well. Oh yes, and we<br />

lost. To a team of postgrads<br />

from <strong>St</strong>rathclyde.<br />

No comment.<br />

Somehow, however, we made<br />

it back thanks to a respectable<br />

score. Sadly, the mighty Vias,<br />

who in the first match had<br />

acted as bearer of the sacred<br />

Mr T shirt, was indisposed in<br />

a hammock somewhere in<br />

Cyprus. <strong>St</strong>ill, our support was<br />

indomitable, thanks partly to<br />

a team of mysterious cheerleading<br />

honeys. Despite this,<br />

we lost again, this time to<br />

Reading, my home town.<br />

Well, I never liked the place<br />

much anyway. At this point a<br />

word of thanks should go to<br />

all those who braved the railway<br />

and turned up in<br />

Manchester to cheer us along,<br />

especially since they had to<br />

endure a highly irritating<br />

wannabe Butlins redcoat trying<br />

to jolly them along.<br />

Anyone who 'jollies" is bad<br />

news.<br />

So we your representatives<br />

returned to our homes: bettered,<br />

battered but still magnificent<br />

in defeat, glorious in<br />

appearance, and smelling of<br />

fudge.<br />

*But I'm still very grateful<br />

9 sport...well, as far as i would go<br />

From the sublime to<br />

the ridiculous<br />

Pete Lavarack and James Hadley receive<br />

an offer they can’t refuse. And it’s not what<br />

you think...<br />

Dear Peter,<br />

My good friend James Hadley<br />

(Harvard, Class of '87) and I<br />

would like to sponsor the <strong>St</strong><br />

<strong>Hugh's</strong> 2nd VIII rowing team<br />

in some small way and for<br />

obvious reasons.<br />

James spent the summer after<br />

his freshman year living on a<br />

river barge on the Isis just outside<br />

Oxford. He was repairing<br />

the old college rowing barges<br />

for <strong>St</strong> John's, Oriel, and a few<br />

others. My last run-in with an<br />

Oxford Eight was a collision<br />

with my punt in the days<br />

when, with friends, I would<br />

drive up from London for an<br />

afternoon on the river. I used<br />

to go to Henley annually during<br />

the early 1990's but have<br />

let that drop since I moved to<br />

New York.<br />

I wonder whether a hundred<br />

pounds for celebratory booze<br />

money might provide the<br />

incentive for the eight to do<br />

well during the season. A<br />

cheque drawn on my British<br />

bank is in the post if you and<br />

Mr. Hadley agree to account<br />

fairly for its intended purpose.<br />

Give me your postal address<br />

and the promise of a jpeg<br />

photo of you all raising the<br />

victors' glass and the money is<br />

yours. If you do well there is<br />

more, within reason. James<br />

and I would consider modest<br />

equipment purchase or some<br />

such, if you wanted.<br />

Do let James and I know how<br />

we can follow your progress -<br />

is there a website that gives an<br />

ongoing report?<br />

You are the third Peter<br />

Laverack I know of... there is<br />

one who runs a successful film<br />

post-production enterprise in<br />

South East Asia. I am an art<br />

dealer here in New York but<br />

my family is entirely of<br />

Yorkshire stock from the<br />

Humber estuary area. In New<br />

York I frequently go to gigs<br />

where Thomas Laverack performs<br />

his soulful blues ballads<br />

- he's the US branch of the<br />

family and you can download<br />

his songs at MP3.com I dare<br />

say your James Hadley knows<br />

many isonomes.<br />

To be honest with you, I<br />

wouldn't normally bother with<br />

this kind of thing but my<br />

James Hadley and I agreed<br />

that the chances of this fortuity<br />

were so slender that we<br />

ought to commemorate it with<br />

our offer of patronage that will<br />

escalate to match your success.<br />

What are you reading Peter?<br />

I'm Art History, my father was<br />

Philosophy, mother's an economist<br />

(Leeds and Oxford 1949<br />

or so) and before that we are<br />

all farmers.<br />

Reply when you have a<br />

moment.<br />

yours,<br />

Peter Laverack<br />

Who needs Jonny Wilkinson when you have<br />

Hughs new freshers...? James Hadley<br />

I don't think the rugby team<br />

has been mentioned in<br />

<strong>Hugh's</strong> News for some time.<br />

This isn't very surprising as<br />

we hadn't won a game in 2<br />

years; until last term. A huge<br />

intake of freshers has resurrected<br />

the team and while the<br />

past few games have left us<br />

evading glory, victory has<br />

been achieved on a large<br />

scale. You'll be pleased to<br />

hear Wadham were hammered,<br />

Christ Church<br />

pounded, Lincoln demolished<br />

and Hertford thrashed.<br />

<strong>St</strong> <strong>Hugh's</strong> has struck out at<br />

the central colleges with<br />

unabating vigour and shown<br />

them the power of our northern<br />

resolve. To the cheers of<br />

his legions of female fans<br />

<strong>St</strong>uart Bax actually made<br />

sure one Hertford bastard<br />

felt the full brunt of that<br />

power on his nose!<br />

Others, too, though perhaps<br />

with a less committed fanbase,<br />

played their part. Alex<br />

Gregory consistently searded<br />

down the wing, while Ed<br />

Botcherby boshed through<br />

the centre supported by the<br />

indestructible Will<br />

Hardyment. Leo Pyrah led<br />

the pack to dominance on the<br />

field aided by, amongst others,<br />

the enormous strength of<br />

Dan Shorter and the grit of<br />

Tim Sambrook (a man not to<br />

be messed with, particularly<br />

when he's lost his shoe!).<br />

Praise too must go to Nick<br />

Wilson for giving up his arm<br />

in the pursuit of victory and<br />

Andrew Hutchinson his leg.<br />

Rugby is not just a tough<br />

man's game though, as the<br />

rugby curry was to prove.<br />

The activities of two particular<br />

gentlemen (one Welsh<br />

and the other hopefully with<br />

his shoe on this time) left<br />

Jamals worried and first<br />

year's shocked that this<br />

might be some sort of custom!<br />

Jamasl certainly<br />

became a bit more than worried<br />

when <strong>St</strong>u Gordon decided<br />

it would be wiser not to<br />

visit the toilet and far better<br />

to stay in his seat when it all<br />

become a bit too much for<br />

him. At least there were no<br />

<strong>St</strong>uart Bax: sports<br />

personality of the<br />

year?<br />

ambulances needed or police<br />

called this year at any rate.<br />

Hazelwood would not have<br />

been proud.<br />

If you'd like to get involved<br />

with college rugby please<br />

email hughsrugby@hotmail.com<br />

or if you'd like to<br />

come and see us have a word<br />

with our fantastic chief supporter,<br />

Marianne.<br />

Next week exclusive: Hutton fingers Dyke!<br />

Think you could do better...Go on, be a gossip...email hughsnnews@hottmail..com to see<br />

your name in flashing lights.*<br />

* Trip to Amsterdam not included in prize<br />

Rugga Buggers Get<br />


8 odds ‘n’ ends...<br />

Drunken Disasters<br />

It’s not big, it’s not clever...but it’s sure as hell funny. Finalists may be boring now, but an<br />

insight into their misspent youth shows us some of them were reckless as they come<br />

A warning to all you younf<br />

whippersnappers out there:<br />

alcohol seriously impairs your<br />

ability to function as a normal<br />

human being...<br />

Omar Salem was very proud<br />

of his new pair of shoes. He<br />

showed them off to everybody<br />

at a bop. Later that night, and<br />

several Pina Coladas, later<br />

Omar was found in a drunken<br />

wreck, minus his brand spanking<br />

new shoes. The drunken<br />

Salem had been convinced to<br />

give up his shoes to an<br />

unknown assailant. They were<br />

never recovered.<br />

Chloe Dunbar had one too<br />

many glasses of wine at a bop.<br />

Later that night she was found<br />

wondering around RTB in<br />

only her knickers. The poor<br />

girl had gone sleep walking<br />

with her baps out and locked<br />

herself out of her room. She<br />

was escorted back to her room<br />

by a passer by.<br />

Peter Laverack asked Julia<br />

Cordy if she had a good night<br />

out in town the previous night.<br />

Cordy replied that she did.<br />

Laverack asked where she<br />

went. Cordy replied, in a surprised<br />

tone, that she had been<br />

to the Bridge. Laverack and<br />

Cordy had pulled each other<br />

that night, but Laverack had<br />

been too pissed to remember.<br />

Mike Pope returned from a<br />

night out in town. His room<br />

was a long way from the front<br />

gate where he entered college.<br />

Pope used his initiative and<br />

looked for a comfortable place<br />

near by. After trying several<br />

doors, he saw that the door to<br />

the Principle's Office was<br />

unlocked. Pope entered the<br />

office and curled up on the<br />

Principle's sofa. He was found<br />

the next morning by a scout.<br />

Robin Hughes-Jones & rowing<br />

coach Henry Hirsch<br />

entered into some high jinx<br />

after another legendary Black<br />

Cygnet's cocktail evening.<br />

Hughes-Jones collected the<br />

contents all the half-empty<br />

cups lying around the Mordan<br />

Hall and transferred their contents<br />

into a large container. He<br />

and Hirsch proceeded to<br />

match each other cup-for-cup<br />

of the nasty concoction; in<br />

doing so they consumed cigarette<br />

butts, ash and gallons of<br />

saliva that were floating in the<br />

slop.<br />

Fiona McDonald became<br />

intoxicated at Formal Hall<br />

after polishing off a bottle of<br />

wine before the end of the first<br />

course. After the Principle had<br />

made his speech, McDonald<br />

wanted the limelight for herself.<br />

She tapped her wine<br />

glass to silence the dining<br />

hall, stood up and exclaimed<br />

'Porn! Everybody should<br />

watch more porn!' When the<br />

meal ended, McDonald ran<br />

out of the dining hall and<br />

headed for the bar. On the way<br />

to the bar she stormed into a<br />

late night Geography class<br />

which resulted in her being<br />

chased around the corridor by<br />

an irate tutor.<br />

Toby Nott & Chris Materson<br />

spotted an unguarded power<br />

drill at the end of the Trinity<br />

Ball. Scotsman Materson<br />

grabbed the power tool and<br />

concealed it in the sporran of<br />

his kilt. On the walk back to<br />

<strong>Hugh's</strong>, Nott and Materson<br />

took great joy in drilling holes<br />

in various objects around<br />

Oxford City. (The above<br />

names have been changed for<br />

legal reasons).<br />

Fiona McDonald & Chloe<br />

Dunbar were invited back to a<br />

fellow Hughsie's house after a<br />

night out in town. Their host<br />

was wrongly under the<br />

impression that the girls wanted<br />

more than a night-cap. The<br />

girls popped to the en suite.<br />

Meanwhile their host stripped<br />

naked and lay on the bed in all<br />

his glory waiting for their<br />

return. The sight put the girls<br />

off their cocoa and they fled<br />

the house, making their<br />

escape on a passing milk float.<br />

<strong>St</strong> <strong>Hugh's</strong> Football Club<br />

stopped at the Eagle & Child<br />

pub on a beard themed pubcrawl.<br />

After a few beers the<br />

lads thought that it would be a<br />

good idea to steal the pub's<br />

public telephone. The phone<br />

was ripped from the wall and<br />

smuggled out of the pub. The<br />

boys thought that their beard<br />

disguises would prevent them<br />

getting caught. However, the<br />

chanting of <strong>St</strong> <strong>Hugh's</strong> football<br />

songs immediately before the<br />

theft gave away their real<br />

identities. The Dean was contacted<br />

and the phone was<br />

returned the next day.<br />

<strong>St</strong> <strong>Hugh's</strong> Rugby Club's annual<br />

curry turned into carnage<br />

last year when a battered Ali<br />

Laird tripped and fell down<br />

the stairs of the India Garden<br />

curry house, cracking open his<br />

head in the process. Leo<br />

Pyrah's beer goggles prevented<br />

him from seeing the drunk<br />

Laird strewn across the stairwell.<br />

Leo then tripped over<br />

Laird and landed face first on<br />

the hard pavement below,<br />

which broke his nose. A concerned<br />

Tim Sambrooke<br />

escorted Pyrah back to college.<br />

Pyrah thanked<br />

Sambrooke by tripping over a<br />

curb, dragging Sambrooke to<br />

the ground leading to<br />

Sambrooke breaking his nose<br />

too. Meanwhile, the rest of the<br />

rugby club decided to ascend<br />

Castle Mount. After they<br />

reached the top, a drunk Jamie<br />

Inglis fell off and rolled down<br />

the sheer edge. Luckily the<br />

rolling Inglis stopped short of<br />

the edge of the wall at the foot<br />

of the Mount and survived the<br />

experience!<br />

Quote of the day<br />

And they can’t even<br />

use the excuse<br />

above<br />

‘Pulls at DTMs don’t<br />

count. It’s so underground,<br />

it’s hell, really.”<br />

Marianne Reardon<br />

justifying her college<br />

flings<br />

‘Well...you said it’.<br />

Toby Mott’s answer to<br />

everything.<br />

“The clock is ticking.<br />

And I mean the academic<br />

clock. Not the<br />

biological one.”<br />

Mary Page’s tutor<br />

reminds her she is a<br />

finalist - and a woman.<br />

“I mean, I just don’t<br />

understand. Why is she<br />

called Hattie Brown<br />

when her hair is<br />

blonde?”<br />

Tessa Pudge shows<br />

us why she’s a physicist<br />

“When you wake up<br />

you’ll have that feeling<br />

in your stomach and<br />

you’ll just know whether<br />

to run away or wait for<br />

breakfast...”<br />

And I’ll leave it to you<br />

to decide whether you<br />

should trust sex<br />

advice from Jazzman.<br />

Send your inane<br />

quotes to the usual<br />

address.<br />

5 the silly stuff<br />

Who needs the Priory? Kenyon’s the new place for celebs to hide away from the pressures<br />

of the paparazzi...until Pete Lavarek investigated.<br />

Sam Porter Charlie Busted<br />

Charlie often has pieces of underwear<br />

thrown at him after he has performed and<br />

once pissed himself on TV, since leaving<br />

Radley this no longer happens to Sam due<br />

to the discontinuation of the fagging<br />

system at Oxford University.<br />

Sam Philip ‘Pop-star Parks’<br />

These two have more in common than<br />

their boyish looks. They are both Cornish<br />

and both fancy girls. Have you ever seen<br />

them in the same room together? Thought<br />

not. Just don't tell Catherine that her<br />

boyfriend is a lesbian.<br />

Chris Abbott Action man<br />

The similarities between Army Chris and<br />

Action Man are striking. Like action man<br />

Chris has revealed his private parts to ten<br />

of thousands of unsuspecting boys all over<br />

the world. Unlike Action Man, Chris was<br />

made in RAF Brise-Norton, not China.<br />

Alice Robinson Susie Robinson<br />

Alice's look-a-like comes in the form of<br />

her identical twin sister. Alice has been<br />

known to impersonate Susie at Ali's Kebab<br />

van in an attempt to steal chips and blame<br />

it on her sibling. You can often tell the<br />

twins apart by the smidgen of special<br />

sauce around Alice's chops.<br />

De Ja Hugh?<br />

Jack Haighton Orvil’s mate-Cuddles<br />

Jack not only looks like this rubber primate,<br />

he also enjoys similar pastimes to<br />

Cuddles. There's nothing nicer for Jack<br />

than a middle-aged man's arm up his arse<br />

and playing with birds still in nappies. Jack<br />

is also a great fan of Paxo, which he uses<br />

as rolling tobacco.<br />

Joe Taylor Justin Timberlake<br />

<strong>St</strong>ud pop star Justin TrouserSnake has<br />

gained a reputation for being a bit of a<br />

ladies man. Not many can boost breakingin<br />

Britney and settling down with<br />

Cameron all by age of 22. However, it is<br />

rumoured that Joe has gone one above<br />

Justice, but Cuddles strongly denies the<br />

allegation.<br />

Jay Gerlis-Adams Uncle Fester<br />

Jay first found fame in the USA in the<br />

1960 cult TV show the Adam's Family.<br />

Uncle Fester joined <strong>St</strong> <strong>Hugh's</strong> in October,<br />

he's reading PPE and enjoys a good game<br />

of darts. He isn't as scary as he looks, just<br />

don't stick your fingers in the cage.<br />

James True Mark ‘pop idol’<br />

Mark lost Pop Idol 2 to that fat Scottish<br />

bird, apparently because he couldn't sing,<br />

was boring and smelt of cheese. James, on<br />

the other hand, was famous at Eton for his<br />

angelic singing in a thick brummie accent.<br />

He also plays the tambourine and has<br />

never been to Belgium.<br />

Mark Hollington Prince William<br />

Not only are these two blonds both<br />

Geographers, but they both have connections<br />

with Wales. Mark lives in Cardiff<br />

(known to locals as 'Cardiff') and William<br />

lives in England, which is connected to<br />

Wales due to his ancestors' order to invade<br />

the country.<br />

Dom Curran Frank Spencer - ooh!<br />

Teen heart-throb Dominic 'the stud' Curran<br />

has little but his voice in common with<br />

Frank Spencer. Dom's daily workout of<br />

weights, rowing and mountain climbing<br />

ensure that he remains a muscle-glad<br />

Adonis. He will be representing Britain in<br />

power lifting at the Beijing Olympics.<br />

Toby Donovan Myra Hindley<br />

I know he's graduated, but I just couldn't<br />

resist this one. At the cross-dressing bop<br />

Toby was mistaken for Myra by a hoard of<br />

angry Northerners. However, the mistaken<br />

identity became apparent when Toby lifted<br />

his skirt. This caused cries of disgust when<br />

it was revealed that even his underwear<br />

matched the bop theme.<br />

George Davies’ pre-<br />

Valentines poetry<br />

for Alex ...<br />

“Like snow, or a bird of prey<br />

My love is like a winter’s day<br />

A corruscating wind, a bale of hay<br />

Perm my hair, in the middle of May<br />

Where there is a will there is a way<br />

Be my Valentine this and every other<br />


6 world news...<br />

Hurrah, Hurrah, Hurrah for Old Nassau<br />

Tom Rafferty on how he coped with Princeton’s scantily clad soriority girls, free<br />

beer...oh, and “the Hattie wave”!<br />

Snow doesn’t arouse mass hysteria in<br />

Princeton<br />

Princeton University is a funny<br />

old place. Firstly, nothing ever<br />

really happens in the 'orange<br />

bubble.' It makes Oxford look<br />

like a hotbed of seething radicalism.<br />

Secondly, the kids say<br />

nonsensical things. Talk of<br />

"bickering," "wasps," "eating<br />

clubs," "fraternities" (er, Phi<br />

Kappa Sigma anyone?) and<br />

"hooking up" leaves an<br />

Englishman flustered and<br />

bewildered. But I was soon<br />

'Americanised.' I now have the<br />

continual urge to premise every<br />

sentence with 'Dude' and a particular<br />

penchant for the double<br />

cheeseburger from the Ali's<br />

substitute, Howard's Grill. This,<br />

I reassure you, is an enlightened<br />

thing.<br />

Judging by Princeton,<br />

Americans are all tremendously<br />

fit creatures rather than the<br />

obese obstructions one is led to<br />

imagine. The chicks jogged<br />

around in flip <strong>flop</strong>s and orange<br />

hot pants with 'Princeton'<br />

emblazoned across their finely<br />

toned butt cheeks. Devilish.<br />

Dudes have that healthy all-<br />

American thing going: tall,<br />

tanned and toned. Hattie was in<br />

heaven. The gym was a horrendous<br />

sight for those preferring<br />

the<br />

benefits of a more decadent<br />

lifestyle. Outside they all stride<br />

around in the faux aristocratic<br />

finery of Ralph Lauren. Pearls<br />

and twin-sets for the girls.<br />

Yellow shirts, Nantucket red<br />

shorts and upturned collars are<br />

requisite for chaps.<br />

It was soon clear that some<br />

stereotypes of Americans were<br />

true. Parties, too, had a sort of<br />

naked inhibition familiar to<br />

those who have seen 'Animal<br />

House' or 'Old School' which<br />

we were made to watch on<br />

repeat, projected onto the wall<br />

of a dormitory. Unlimited free<br />

alcohol abounded. There were<br />

typically rallying cries of<br />

"chug, chug, chug" followed by<br />

downing of the dirtiest beer<br />

imaginable. Then the inevitable<br />

'50 cent' track came on and<br />

sweatiness followed.<br />

Aggressive grinding on the<br />

dance floor was a must; it was<br />

essentially the equivalent to the<br />

English handshake. Princeton<br />

girls certainly exhibit more vigorous<br />

gyrating skills than their<br />

Oxford counterparts. A heavily<br />

bruised penis was occasionally<br />

the result.<br />

Drinking and partying occasionally<br />

led to trouble. There<br />

were the inevitably regrettable<br />

'hook ups.' There was also the<br />

double court appearance I had<br />

after being caught clasping an<br />

open can of beer in public,<br />

oblivious to the bored patrol<br />

officers who wait along<br />

Princeton's main strip, 'the<br />

street,' which boasts the eleven<br />

mansions known as eating<br />

clubs. Lined up in court on 'university<br />

day' with fellow miscreants<br />

(drinking/pissing in public),<br />

I pleaded English ignorance<br />

to no effect. And I always<br />

presumed an English accent<br />

would take you very far in<br />

America.<br />

The three and a half months I<br />

spent there were punctuated by<br />

a series of notable incidents.<br />

Travelling around the northeast<br />

offered an insight into the<br />

pleasingly proletarian<br />

Greyhound buses. Those<br />

behind me tended to be<br />

unashamedly humping or violently<br />

vomiting. In Boston<br />

without accommodation a<br />

friend and I just about avoided<br />

getting raped by a peculiar<br />

Harvard post-grad eager to lavish<br />

hundreds of dollars on us in<br />

order to make us dangerously<br />

uncoordinated. After a stable<br />

diet of bagels and cream cheese<br />

though, posh dinners weren't<br />

too scoffed over. During<br />

Thanksgiving break, I became<br />

perturbed on realizing that a<br />

trip to an apparently quaint area<br />

of rural Maryland was in fact<br />

Ku Klux Klan central. At winter<br />

formals Hattie managed to get<br />

first degree burns on her legs<br />

without realizing. She then<br />

obstinately (and drunkenly)<br />

refused to go to the health centre<br />

when her skin started to bubble<br />

vociferously. Perhaps it was<br />

in order to make the splintered<br />

speech she eventually delivered<br />

to the whole of Tower eating<br />

club, some confusion greeting<br />

this peculiar English girl floundering<br />

her arms around in an<br />

attempt to express her ardent<br />

love for those largely unknown<br />

people assembled. [Ed - slander,<br />

Raffs, slander…! And they<br />

still gave me a Tower sweatshirt...]<br />

Trips to New York were equally<br />

memorable. One Sunday morning<br />

was spent crammed in a<br />

dive of a bar on 3rd avenue to<br />

watch United vs. Arsenal.<br />

“Soccer” surrounded by<br />

American accents is a strange<br />

experience. There were<br />

moments of decided uncertainty<br />

sitting in bars far too chic for<br />

any self - respecting student in<br />

the Meatpacking District. There<br />

was the time Hattie told me to<br />

"fuck off" on my 21st birthday<br />

as we wandered streets in Soho.<br />

That wasn't even to do with the<br />

infamous 'Hattie wave' debacle.<br />

The final weekend was spent<br />

ice skating in a snowy Central<br />

Park, allowing pleasant sentimental<br />

wallowing in New<br />

York's romantic iconography. I<br />

was getting all Gershwin and<br />

'Manhattan.' Until I bruised<br />

myself again.<br />

It can all only be summed up in<br />

a single word, rarely better<br />

used: awesome.. The place has<br />

a liberating effect. It makes one<br />

quite willing to indulge in the<br />

university song, 'Old Nassau,'<br />

like any good Princetonian;<br />

hands are flung skywards from<br />

chest, as the singing grows into<br />

a roaring crescendo of "hurrah,<br />

hurrah, hurrah!" That, dudes,<br />

briefly sums up Princeton. In<br />

the true American pronunciation,<br />

aeeewsome.<br />

Crap beer fuels the<br />

American college elite<br />

7 ...we’re an exotic bunch, really<br />

It's always the same, isn't it?<br />

You always hear the warnings,<br />

but never heed them. Warnings<br />

like, 'Whatever you do, don't<br />

go into Lima!'<br />

But, after arriving at Lima<br />

International Airport, and finding<br />

no available planes going<br />

to our destination, we decided<br />

to "Take the bull by the horns",<br />

and go into Lima itself (which,<br />

incidentally, is the 5th most<br />

dangerous city in the world).<br />

That was the first mistake.<br />

Taking out the trusty 'Lonely<br />

Planet', we found a suitable<br />

(cheap) hostel, and took a taxi<br />

to the central square. The taxi<br />

ride in itself should have convinced<br />

us to get our<br />

arses back to the<br />

airport…. Yep,<br />

we saw not<br />

one, but two<br />

gunfights in<br />

the suburbs;<br />

the police<br />

standing idly<br />

by, occasionally<br />

blowing their whistles.<br />

When we did arrive in the<br />

Plaza de Armas, there was a<br />

riot in progress. Which is<br />

Lost in Lemur<br />

Well, more buggered really. Ross 'Indiana' Burley exclusively tells his true, harrowing<br />

story of how he narrowly avoided Peruvian policemen using his arse as a truncheon<br />

rack….<br />

Lima: full of lemurs<br />

always nice. Dodging the<br />

sprays of the water cannon, we<br />

ran into our hostel… the family<br />

inside seemingly unfazed by<br />

the chaos outside their barred<br />

windows.<br />

An hour later, the riot had<br />

been dispersed, and we got a<br />

taxi to Miraflores - supposedly<br />

the respectable part of Lima.<br />

After lunch, we ambled our<br />

merry way to the beach (second<br />

mistake), chatting to a few<br />

surfer dudes - the only signs of<br />

life, besides the occasional car<br />

that rumbled past. We continued<br />

walking… and felt very<br />

suddenly exposed - looming<br />

cliffs to our left, and the<br />

Pacific to our right,<br />

thus completely<br />

trapped.<br />

The muggers<br />

descended on<br />

us with a terrible<br />

efficiency.<br />

Two<br />

men with machetes<br />

emerged from a public toilet<br />

in front of us; two cars<br />

veered off the road behind us,<br />

the four balaclava clad muggers<br />

emerging armed with<br />

Uzi's and handguns. We were<br />

outnumbered and outgunned.<br />

They went for my friend, Dan,<br />

and took all his belongings,<br />

save his passport<br />

that was hidden<br />

in a secret<br />

pocket. The bastards<br />

didn't mug<br />

me, though one<br />

of them kept his<br />

gun trained on me<br />

as they concentrated<br />

on Dan. They left in the<br />

cars, screaming onto the highway,<br />

the lead attacker giving<br />

us the finger. The whole attack<br />

took less than five seconds.<br />

Surprisingly, we were shaken,<br />

but not too stirred. We decided<br />

the first thing to do would be<br />

to notify the police and cancel<br />

the credit cards. We sprinted<br />

back to the nearest police<br />

station which was<br />

the third mistake.<br />

Herded into the<br />

4x4, we<br />

realised with<br />

horror the<br />

worst was yet to<br />

come. The police<br />

in the front, kept<br />

insisting in Spanish,<br />

that 'petrol was expensive', and<br />

demanded money. We claimed<br />

ignorance, and grimly awaited<br />

our fate. Thus began the<br />

five hour ordeal.<br />

When we<br />

arrived in the<br />

cop station, in<br />

downtown<br />

Lima, we were<br />

confronted with<br />

the two men with<br />

the machetes. It was<br />

a very surreal moment -<br />

your muggers, asking you to<br />

forgive them, because they<br />

needed to 'feed their children'.<br />

One of the policemen, an ugly<br />

looking son of a bitch, called<br />

Huarachi, took us into another<br />

4x4. Inside, to our surprise and<br />

even relief, all of Dan's<br />

belongings were sitting on the<br />

seat.<br />

It was then, that we realised<br />

we had been set up by the<br />

police. We were right. The<br />

police demanded money, for<br />

'recompense'. We were put in a<br />

bare room. Our passports were<br />

taken, along with our fingerprints.<br />

Twice, I tried use a<br />

phone outside to let the<br />

Embassy know what the hell<br />

was going on, but either<br />

Huarachi, or his partner in<br />

crime Diaz, who kept on eyeing<br />

up Dan, put their finger on<br />

the hook, telling me 'no<br />

phone'.<br />

Around 6pm the<br />

darkness<br />

approached.<br />

This was the<br />

lowest point -<br />

the only two<br />

people left in<br />

the police station,<br />

while the<br />

police smoked cheap<br />

cigarettes, occasionally telling<br />

each other crude jokes. We<br />

seriously contemplated making<br />

a dash.<br />

I tried one last time to phone<br />

for aid, desperate to hear<br />

another English voice. Diaz<br />

approached, and I literally saw<br />

red: I demanded an explanation<br />

as to why passports had<br />

been taken; trying to convince<br />

him he was breaking international<br />

law, as I understood it. It<br />

was colonialism in reverse,<br />

and this corrupt man was<br />

clearly enjoying seeing an<br />

Englishman squirm. My anger<br />

continued to grow, as I squared<br />

up to Diaz. His sly grin began<br />

to disappear, as he slowly<br />

brought his fattened hand<br />

down to his gun….<br />


Hooray! Your file is uploaded and ready to be published.

Saved successfully!

Ooh no, something went wrong!