Lifestyle collated the stupidest stories from this year’s Freshers’ Week. We sifted through stories of broken Corp toilets, holes in ceilings and drinking Fairy Liquid. One guy even got hit in the face with a frying pan.

Friendly disclaimer: Forge does not condone any of the below activities. Spiking is a crime and we encourage students to drink responsibly.

Anonymous
I was playing Ring of Fire with my flat and was being picked every time as ‘you’ and ‘mate’. My dear flatmate Kav made a rule where I had to drink when anyone else did and then somebody who I won’t name spiked both my drink and the king drink with rum and vodka when I left the room, completely unbeknownst to me. I ‘won’ the game and had to down the king drink. We headed down to out to Havana Nights, but were pulled into a flat party where I got destroyed at beer pong. I then decided to do the worm for some reason, and after getting off the table two medical students pointed out that I was bleeding. Very nicely, they sat me down and patched me up.

Jamie Van Bragt
I was pretty much doomed as soon as I said the famous last words, “I’m taking it easy tonight”. On Saturday, I planned to go to Fiesta in the Jungle at the O2 Academy with a few of my flatmates. Before leaving we started the pre-drinking at a friend’s flat in another Endcliffe building. In order to stick to my promise of ‘taking it easy’ after a rough few nights previous to this one, I only took two beers with me.

With the throwing up came a £10 fine and being kicked out in the middle of Sheffield, not knowing where I am or how to get home

However, when I arrived and got into the swing of things, I thought ‘why not?’ to a bit of cheap Morrisons vodka mixers. This was where is all went downhill. I didn’t really keep track or notice how much I drank and thought I was absolutely fine until I got into the taxi and slumped straight to the floor missing the chair.

I stuck to the plan and made it to the O2 in the taxi before deciding, with the only bit of sense I had left that I needed to go home. This was clear after I literally fell out of the taxi flat onto my face. I ended up throwing up in the taxi after a few blurry minutes which I still really struggle to remember any of.

With the throwing up came a £10 fine and being kicked out in the middle of Sheffield, not knowing where I am or how to get home. Now this is the part of the story where I have no clue what happened, but after putting together what my flatmates told me from phone calls I figured that a group of students helped me to find another taxi. Thank you to whoever that was.

This is where stuff got even worse. After literally seconds of being in that taxi, it happened again, even worse than before. As you’d expect the taxi driver was very mad, I barely knew what was going on except that the man wanted money that I didn’t have on me. After a pretty scary and confusing few minutes I was helped out by yet another kind person of Sheffield who managed to reason with the driver to take me back to Endcliffe where my friend would pay him and I’d pay her back.

This managed to get sorted back at Endcliffe and I got home safe, much to the help of my flatmates and whoever the strangers had been.

On Sunday morning I woke to the bad news that I lost £50 to the taxi fine, £15 to the ticket of the event I never went to and £10 on the first taxi I was sick in. Along with having to clean up the aftermath pretty much all afternoon with a banging hangover and a huge loss of dignity.

Anonymous
While I was on a fancy dress bar crawl (slightly worse for wear) I brought the flame of my lighter up to the end of my cigarette, which got entangled amongst some heavily hairsprayed, bright green Joker hair. A huge flame erupted and a massive burning sensation hit my scalp which I was stupidly far too drunk to believe was anything worse than a little singe.

I woke up the next morning and three hospitals and nine hours later, a large chunk of hair at the front of my head was burnt to the root and I had a 2cm burn across my forehead that the nurse was sure will scar.

Two years later the tuft of hair has finally grown back and the scar has gone, but I’ve definitely learned my lesson!

Image credit: Jirka Matousek

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