Fresher s Week Edition of the Pit

Fresher s Week Edition of the Pit

WELCOME FRESHERZZZZZZZZZZ We hope you ve had a great first few weeks and are enjoying RSM life (how could you not). This edition of the Pit is a look back and the short time we ve already been (back) at college. So relive the memories and catch up on whatever you may have missed/can t remember! RSM love,

Presidents Shout Poem: You are Royal Miners, Real wine and diners, Proper good timers. You never know where you ll find us. Top Tips: - Lurpack is better than flora. - To avoid cues at the RSM Café, be there first. - Never buy pizza at the union. - No jeans on field trips. - Typing [month][year] into Wikipedia will give you major news stories from that month - Don t date a tennis player, love means nothing to them. - Strawberry bonbons and lemon bonbons are disputed (the blue are the best though). - Mens medium is approximately 12 14 in womens size. - Righty tighty lefty loosey, unless you are an Argentinian Blue Bill Lake Duck. Note: That Freshers fortnight was radical; freshers have caught the RSM fever and final years have had their last... Some incredible scenes and hopefully some amazing memories that should stick with you forever. Now it s time to get your heads down at least until next time. Stay Regal RSM. RSM Love, Sam xx

South Ken Ten The night was young, sweaty memories of Tiger Tiger were still fresh in the mind (yes that was your flatmate), but nothing a hearty pint of warm Best couldn t fix. Meanwhile, across the halls of Imperial, freshers were wondering, is it really necessary to take my hard hat? Would the hi vis be too much? Sisters Nora and Matilda were out to pass on the punishment given to them. Our esteemed Vice president Madame Butcher was out to stamp her mark on the RSM events. With the efficiency of a German Centre-Mid and armed with duct tape, she took it under her personal command to ensure not a single drop of glorious lager was wasted. Butcher by name butcher by nature. We hit Knightsbridge like Tristan downhill. Swarming the unsuspecting shady watering holes of the far too rich. Older years at this point making great use of the Nisa Local to supplement the horrificly priced booze. Yes Dom that was 5 for a Fosters, we re not in Newcastle anymore. Butcher again out in full force, this time for welfare reasons; we, at the RSM, take inter year cohesion very seriously and literally. Poor sober freshers now entwined with others in what can only be described as a conga from hell. Like all good freshers should, they took safety very seriously, committed fully to everything and believed whatever dribble the older years told them. Well done. This was highlighted by a hearty cohort of freshers donning their hard hats, a notable appearance from freshers MCL (ask Luke Cottell) and Jake, consuming hearty Samosa Stella cocktails from their new yellow lids mmm. It was time to go to Roxy. Citymapper anyone? Wait we left one Miss Espir, a usually active member of the RSM socials was missing. Reports of a crime wave stalked West Kensington as an inebriated miner took to theft and joy riding. As everyone else arrived at Roxy it was time for the finale. Let the sharking commence. Well done Mr. Price we ll come back to you in a later article. Another casualty of the evening was our very own Madame Tidswell. On the floor again? Typical. Time for a friendly scouser to carry her home. At this point our attention returns to our Vice president, having been kept sober by her duty to the RSM after another successful event she necked two pitchers and swiftly retired. Time to go home, Cheese sandwich anyone?

Fresher s Bar Night Night number 4 of fresher s week began with an awkward walk to the union, in a dress that was a bit too small and a bit too revealing (or so I m told). After being checked out by the many groups of fancily-dressed women on their way to the Albert Hall, who were clearly jealous of Sam s mouldyforeskin-yellow bride s dress, we knew we would be the belles, or bellends, of the ball. People began to arrive, some dressed to impress and some just generally dressed (onesies are shit), with notable mentions to some people. I ll be honest, I m writing this the morning after fresher s dinner and I can t be bothered to remember who was dressed well. Actually, I m staring at our new recycling bin in the undergrad room that s now been improved by Ruth s costume. Well done Ruth. I digress Soon drinking games had begun and pennies were flying everywhere, with fresher s misunderstanding between twofinger fines and downing the whole pint going quietly uncorrected. Boring boring boring interlude with some cheesy chips somewhere. Yards, some great attempts. Props to George Nicholas who drank the fastest yard, he spilt a lot but don t tell him because he will probably hit you or something. Why was Shrek on stage? Can anyone remember? Great singalong. And then Fiona did something, I don t know what though. I m not sure anyone else did either, oops. The fresher boat race was a disgrace, in organisation and execution. What happened older years, Christ. Then we went to Slug, or at least everyone else did. I waited around for a guy called Nick who went to the toilet and never came back. Who is Nick, why did you do this? Got to Slug eventually even in the dress, which was soon ripped off by Dom (cheers Dom), who then ripped off Ryan Atkar s 60 t-shirt because it was brown and plain and a fancy dress barnight and probably shouldn t have been worn to Slug Ryan. We live and learn. The Jaegerbombs arms race was in full heat, who can say no to 2 j-bombs and a big round? One of the biggest players was unfortunately (for you freshers) in Brazil (JJ we missed you ) How did I get Slug juice on my hat Why was the chicken shop closed Only one fresher missed the trip, who didn t even come out, twit.

RSM Olympics First of all, who do you freshers think you are for playing truant at RSM events?! A hangover from the freshers ball is NO EXCUSE. And also, why would you want to go and try out for real IC sports when you could be (egg and) spooning, and slugging on the floor with Dom and Esme. With tough events, such as five legged races which ended in a violent scrummage and sack races(sans sacks), it was to be a battle of endurance. Some teams were flagging after the first five minutes, and others became noticeably limp towards the end. There was a fight to the death (of an orange) to determine the runners up. Ruth went head to head with RSM s very own football captain Dom. It was a tortoise and the hare-esque spectacle. Dom going fast and hard, Ruth going slow and steady. Dom s mouth was just too full and he began to choke, Ruth(less) seized the opportunity and chomped her way to victory. Finally, the cucumber challenge to root out the true losers. The materials boys, taking a surprisingly large amount of cucumber to the mouth and even having the initiative to go at it from both ends, proved they weren t quite bottom of the pack. Sorry Team ANEL. This year, one specific team dominated the scoreboard. With their sporting talent, sexual prowess and excellent facial hair, team Clitoris Allsorts ended up on top. Congrats boys.

Freshers Dinner? The culmination of Fresher s, a night to remember (if you can) or a night to forget? Queen s rules, lounge suits and many other things to consider. You re bound to get something wrong, but I wouldn t look much further than these Freshers.

Freshers Dinner Two weeks in now and this brings us to the highly anticipated finale of our freshers calendar. Most of the freshers have already gone through their first set off colouring pencils and are rushing around to the nearest Rymans (or not if you re great and do materials). But never fear, its time to strip down from your normal hungover selves, adorn your finest lounge suit/cocktail dress, forget your deadlines and prepare for an evening of drinking and debauchery. After a brief pre dinner flavouring at the union, hip flasks in hand, we set off. Our ever-dutiful Welfare Officer already one shot rack cake down was on top form by 7 o clock; it could surely only go down hill from here? For those who were saving themselves for the dinner there was a shock on arrival at the hotel, 10 for a jug of Tropicana? Who bloody organised this!. The grumbles were obvious and sister Nora and Stephanie had the answer; a quick dash to Tesco s for a little social lubricant. Sophie enjoying the evening s entertainment A fine speech by our esteemed president Mr Argyle kicked off the evenings events. Rapidly it became clear that when following Queen s rules, one has to make an effort with one s appearance and there were some notable exceptions to this. Fresher Brown s decision to wear trainers was a just one in a long line of catastrophes he suffered that night. Miss Bell s attire was brought to the attention of the crowd, although I m pretty sure most of the males in the room had clocked this back in the union, and was fined appropriately. Imagine the Queen in that! Fines now thoroughly underway and all the skeletons started flying out of the cupboards. From Miss Battershill s fraternisation with those Cornish cut throats, to the loss of Willy in Blackpool poor effort Mr Nevison I don t believe you ve heard the last of that one. Guest speakers enlightened our ears with advise and knowledge such as how we should solve the worlds energy problems, tackle climate change and oh yeah, Jan Cilliers morning routine smooth. All this excitement proved too much for MCL as he decided this was the perfect moment to mount his chair and play ping pong with a balloon on the ceiling. Like father like son, some very beaverish behaviour. Presidential privileges? The main was being served; unfortunately for FrEric he was completely unaware as he decided to firmly grasp the wine bucket with both hands and pour not only the content of his stomach but also his reputation away. Twice.

Stuffed full of some chicken and halloumi, a few red wine cocktails, when did they start serving rosé? our beloved former president Mr Warnick decided it was time for a sing song, no one can recall what it actually was but never before has a room of people so confidently sung the lyrics to a song they have absolutely no clue the words to, all hoping for that one line that never came. When in doubt Country Roads Mr Warnick. With Matt It was about this time when Miss Tidswell decided it was her duty to pick a fight with our DLB president, after flexing her biceps and throwing a hearty left hook right straight combination she forgot that miners are made of sterner stuff and paid the price. She can be seen hobbling around the RSM battle scars on display. Did somebody say Union?? Rowdy Northerner I m afraid my reporting skills start to go blurry at this point but you all know the score by now: Union bar, Metric, terrible dancing, sharking, jaeger bombs, ubers home and chicken cottage. Bosch. Have a good year guys and girls. RSM and Pit Love. Your new Web Officer This is Jennifer. At the time the freshers handbook went to print there was no web officer but now we have Jen. Jen is now in charge of manning the RSMU webpage and is completely computer illiterate so this could get interesting A few fun facts about Jennifer: She was banned from the imperial wifi for some funny business on the internet She will do anything for a raspberry muff She cannot say the word squirrel Her resting face is that of a lost child (if found please return to Hattie Frier or Issy Candy)

And all the aftermaths

In this edition of the Pit we are adding a new word to your extensive RSM vocab. This word describes Emma Watson, as some of you may be aware, has a very healthy appetite after consuming large quantities of alcohol. This fresher s week, after the bar night/slug, Emma felt it necessary to purchase and then fist eat 12 worth of chicken cottage whilst dressed as a Hogwarts school girl. Freshers, if you are unaware, you can buy a chicken burger, chips and a drink for about 3.50. She then became a repeat offender after the fresher s dinner (that she organised), when she decided that three courses wasn t enough and two McDonald s burgers were greatly needed. So here s to you Emma and the invention of the word DRUNGRY.

A haiku from the Mascot stealing fresher (and legitimate wizard) Having been well fed I collected our trophy RSM kicks ass Alessandro, we salute you.

This month s lookalikes Bronwen Perkins Butternut Squash

Snappy Snaps

It s all about the (Ladies) hockey Only one training in and the first match of the season arrived for RSM ladies. Wearing our finest black and gold tops, skorts and sexy socks ("the stripes are so slimming" - Ben Bell), we set off for the Olympic park to hit the big league. The whistle blew and hockey fresher Alice began by putting her freshers fortnight training into practise, demonstrating to us all how to properly handle our sticks and balls. Less than five minutes in Bennett had set the standard for the rest of the match, scoring an absolute screamer. As always, Ralice were on top roommate form with at least a hat-trick from Pikelet, despite running into the goal and spending much of her time on the floor. Likewise, Willy (not the watering can) was performing admirably with goals galore and, yes, hat tricks do mean pints. Even with injury, hockey fresher Cat put in a solid performance on the pitch alongside sweeper Ellie and goalie Mad. Some classic jabs from Emma made Mad s job a bit easier with only a few close shaves. The captain of our ship KB dragged and flicked to help us to score over double our goal total from last season, with a win of 11-0. Despite some absolutely appalling ref decisions in the last three minutes later that afternoon, the most important match of the day was a resounding success. We celebrated our victory by guzzling down some Franco Manca nosh and a big, fat slice of goal pie. Man of the match-pike Dick of the day- Pike

HAVE YOU SEEN THESE MEN? RSM TRAITORS Ben Bell-end Steve Poogh FrEric On the first hockey match of the year (18/10/15) the Royal School of Mines hockey team took on the Imperial C***s (IC) at the fortress Harlington. In what is always a grudge match between the two teams, these three specimens decided their allegiance was with IC. This is deplorable. Punish them as you see fit - in the bar, in the under grad room or in lectures. Show them the cold shoulder, isolate them from social events. Make them regret their decisions. Ben Bell-end is the ring leader and is suspected as the culprit for leading FrEric astray as he has done to Poogh last year punish him accordingly. All the best, Mott Irwin (DLB guardian, footballer with a stick, walking talking big cheese)

Speaking of traitors. This edition of the Pit is dedicated to Stuart MacGowan Now stomping the grounds of CSM, he has betrayed us all in pursuit of a Masters in Hard Hattage. Let s hope he doesn t get jumped by inbreds. RIP (Rest in Pit)