Cambridge’s most obscure societies*

Drained after several hours of trying to sell the Tab on our stall through the carnal appeal of mugs, we decided to go exploring.

Turns out, asking people to feature in Cambridge’s most obscure societies isn’t a great way to make friends.

We accidentally offended a number of people who couldn’t quite come to terms with the fact that their particular interest isn’t a 24/7 world-wide pastime beloved of the people.

Kudos to the following societies, who will wear the term “obscure” with (semi to nil) pride and take all the free Tab publicity they can get.  We highly encourage you to support the activities of these decent human beings.

We endorse these societies. In a very casual sense.

We apologise for what is probably a gross mischaracterisation of what some of these societies actually do.

The Heraldic and Genealogical Society

Premise: Crests and stuff.

Question: Least favourite college crest?

Answer: Caius.

Comment: We hope they fully appreciate the acronym of their name. Also, you can’t accuse us of teasing these guys because Julian here learnt all the college crests in exam term last year for fun and used that as an excuse to bond.

Okay so maybe heraldry isn’t that niche in Cambridge.

Premise: Lace and bobbins. Whatever bobbins are.

Question: In terms of a percentage, how much better do you feel wearing lace as compared to no lace?

Answer: “110% better”.

Comment: She warned us never to ask us how long a lace maker takes to make something, so we didn’t ask her how long it takes her to make something.

Confession: Tab t-shirt made of shitty quality cotton.

The Real Ale Society

Premise: Cult built around Real Ale.

Question: How do you feel about Fake Ale?

Answer: “I’m not even sure what that means.”

Comment: Befriend them before they run out of free ale.

Add these lads on Facebook.

The Quiz Society

Premise: Quizzes.

Question: Can’t actually remember which is a little ironic.

Answer: See above.

Comment: We could feel intelligence emanating in a 2 metre radius.

A lovingly hand made sign, a welcome break from all the commercialised shit we’ve had to put up with all day.

Bibliophile Union of the University of Cambridge;

Premise: Loving books.

Question: Why buy a book?

Answer: “The worst reason to buy a book is to read it.”

Comment: That’s not really what we asked, but fine.

It took me a while but I think the point of calling it BUUC is you’re supposed to pronounce it like the thing.

The Flirting Society

Premise: Cambridge needs LOVE, not LUST.

Question: Favourite chat up line?

Answer: “Are you single?”

Comment: Our hearts were throbbing.

Roses are the way to a man’s heart.

Sing in Prison

Premise: Singing in prison to and with prisoners.

Question: What’s their favourite stuff to sing?

Answer: Bob Marley and folk songs.

Comment: Swanky signage. Golden hearts.

They’re supposed to be miming singing.

The Liberal Democrats

Premise: Restoring Cam to its golden years under Huppert.

Question: What do you miss most about life under Julian in Cambridge?

Answer: “His policies. No, wait. His beard.”

Comment: Thanks for not telling us to fuck off. You guys are great.

Founded a full 102 years before the political party itself. (Sorry, that’s a bit mean.)

Each of these is now officially a tiny bit less obscure.