Exhaustion and Blues
A certain reputable sportsman, hardy on the water but apparently less so after a heavy night out, made quite a blunder last weekend. Having inveigled one lucky lady back to his less-than-humble abode, our practiced Romeo made his preparations with much aplomb. He littered his boudoir with twinkling candlelight mingled with rose petals and completed the tableau with a classic CD. Perhaps these efforts proved all too much, however, as by the time his patient partner was given the green flag to enter, our dear protagonist was to be found sprawled comatose atop his amorous bedstead. You snooze, you lose.

Marking their territory
Two boomeranging Cantabs left quite a mark on their alma mater. Schooled with the princes, the qualities of a gentleman apparently missed this rowdy pair. After a long night of tipple and tomfoolery, the obvious choice seemed to be a visit to the monstrous bibliotheca of this grand institution. For a final taste of the tearoom, you ask? Oh no, if only. This repugnant pair had decided to  make the pilgrimage in order to defecate before the UL. Truly splendid.

A conservative exit
Satiated with port and bursting with cheese after a certain Righty assemblage, the hero of this here tale landed up with a chum in the hallowed halls of Trinity College. After the inevitable drunken diversions and duels had run their course, said carouser decided the time had come for him to make his way home. On finding the appropriate gate sealed and bolted, this booze-blurred brain could conceive but one expedient exit. A trip to the porters seemed all too strenous, apparently. Instead, he plunged head-first into the icy moat of the college, flailing and gasping in his Sunday Best.