Slightly off topic
A few years back when I was a student in Dundee. A mate and I had been at a flat party. They had a pool table in their kitchen. Said mate and I found this vastly entertaining being both drunk and too skint (or cheap) to play it in the pub at a £1 a go. SO eventually half 6 in the morning rolls around and one of the lads that lived in the flat got up to have a dump (everyone bar me and my mate LONG since having gone to bed) and politely asked us to get the fuck out. We thought this might be a good idea.

So as we're staggering into the sunrise we see a traffic sign. You know, one of those "road closed" ones. Well, my mate half inched the fucker and set about a mile away in front of some school gates. But our story does not end there. Oh no.

We're about ten minutes away from our flat and I decide "I want THAT!" "that" was the "private" part of a sign that collectively read "No Entry. Private Parking." With Private on its own placcard like thing and all three bits screwed to some board...thing. Out comes the swiss army knife and between the two of us we spent what seemed an hour (but must have been about 5 minutes) unscrewing the half dozen screws with a bottle opener before casually strolling home, collapsing into our own rooms and forgetting about the sign til tea dinner time. The sign was then exchanged between our doors depending on who had a lady in.
(Teran Thinks Pogonophobia is funny, Wed 16 Jan 2008, 13:55, Reply)