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This is a question Breasts

Your stories on The Devil's Pillows, please.

Suggested by PsychoChomp

(, Thu 6 May 2010, 13:21)
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Several years ago I was given a divine gift. Like some people become suddenly endowed with mystical foresight or spiritual enlightenment without any practise or intention, I became a honker. Squeeze a breast and a sound EXACTLY like a cheap, tinny-sounding car horn parps straight out of my mouth.

In the Egg, a seedy after-party venue in London, I decided to use it to break the ice with a group of stangers. In the garden, I spotted a group of unknown revellers. I wobbled over and very, very slowly... PARP! PARP! I squeezed the bosom of a man. He looked up with bewildered incomprehension, but a look soon dawned across his face; a realisation!


His friends understood too. A cacophony of honks ensued.

Walking to the tube station afterwards I was greeted with soft honking behind me, fading into the distance.
(, Wed 12 May 2010, 22:22, Reply)

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