Wednesday, November 25, 2009

On Medical Students And Leather-Clad Sub-Dom Sex Slaves

I can't say I recall precisely what Monks Habit (no apostrophe, note) tasted like. It was one of the many speciality beers brewed by Marstons in the early nineties before the whole of Burton-on-Trent was snapped up by the Japanese (or whoever it is that's now responsible for the murky filth currently being cauldron-spawned there alongside all the Marmite). Maybe it was one of those "saggy, with a hint of diarrhoea-gorged baboon" real ale affairs, I don't know.

Anyway, there I was this morning, stood before a motley shower of medical students with a Monks Habit (no apostrophe, note) beermat gripped tight between my teeth in an attempt to induct them in the delights of the auriculo-nasal plane. If you've ever been on a foreign holiday, you'll know exactly what that is, of course — that moment when your ears pop and the spotty businessman next to you sneezes two whole nostrils full of swine flu all over your Not Particularly Appetising Plate of Utter Cack. You know — but they didn't. They're students. They're imbeciles like that.

The point is, some bright wag attempted to derail my exposition (which, as I recall, went something like gottle o geer...gottle o geer...) by pointing out a mystery trapdoor dangling from one corner of the lecture theatre. Likely, it was a removable ceiling panel allowing access to a hidey hole full of wiring or an anti-student mustard gas mechanism, but the moment I gazed upon it, my impish little brain sensed a fantastic opportunity for reviving what was rapidly turning into the least entertaining two hours of my life (with the exception of the night my Mum went to see Rod Stewart in concert and kept me up till three in the morning describing every last detail about how sexy he looked. Please, if I make it to Heaven — no reruns of that one).

So, I said, 'looks like someone has sprung the gimp.'

It was perfect. Really, it was. An open flap in the ceiling, and a gimp on the loose somewhere on campus. How hilarious is that?

NOT. Apparently. At least, if you're a medical student.

They responded with a look of bovine confusion typically reserved for a castrated bull pumped full of sleeping tablets and presented with a yoyo — in unison, like some synchronised Abject WTF team.

Had I the slightest amount of sense, I'd put it all down to experience, lock up the imaginary marauding gimps. But I'm not blessed with such sage wisdom. So I'm using that one again


McKoala said...

You need advertising students. A much more discerning audience. That talks about gimps with disturbing frequency.

Whirlochre said...

Fortunately, a new branch of Advertising Students R Us has opened just down the road, so I may invest in one of their two-for-one offers.

Robin S. said...

I'm looking forward to having enough mental space this weekend to ome back and read you in all your glory, Whirl! See ya soon...

Whirlochre said...

I have glory?


Mom In Scrubs said...

Ah Whirl, how I've missed you...

Med Students are a rare breed, indeed. I think they go through some sort of Mass Brainwashing before they loose them on innocent patients and the like.

That said, this post disappointed me somewhat...

Where are the Leather-Clad Sub-Dom Sex Slaves???

Oh. Wait. Ohhhh..... I think I'm getting the double-entendre.

(wanders away looking for coffee)

oh, and I have a word you can incorporate into your next post. its my word verification word: "blereaka"

Whirlochre said...

The feeling is mutual, Mom.

And now I've opted for open comments, I nearly missed you again.

(sounds of blubbing).

I'll find a spot for blereaka some time soon.