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This is a question Caught!

MJPerry asks: Masturbating, stealing, making the cat dance... when did someone catch you doing something you wanted to remain secret?

(, Thu 3 Jun 2010, 14:01)
Pages: Popular, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

This question is now closed.

Last week
The wife was in bed and I was reading about the latest events in the world of professional wrestling. She emerged from the bedroom and I hastily closed down Firefox. Now she's convinced I was looking at porn.

I'm too ashamed to tell her the truth. And I didn't even get to see any boobs.
(, Fri 4 Jun 2010, 23:05, 4 replies)
Big guns outside the PMs county house
I'm quite sure this is going to be filled with "I'm not really bragging about my sexual achievements but really I am a little bit" comments so here's another one

While still an incredibly inexperienced 17 year old gawky lad I'd managed to get myself a pretty hot, occasionally filthy girlfriend - terrific. For some reason I wanted to tick the box of sex in the car, as was the style of the time.

Waited till midnight, popped in the car, naked drove to a spot. Already mekkid there was little else to be done, after some incredibly awkward fidding around with the seats of my mums car (classy) got one of them nicely reclined and on she popped to wriggle around pretending to enjoy herself..

Within seconds the rozzers turn up - 3 fucking huge landrover police cars... Shit.. struggling to find my pants (sod hers she'll be a lovely looking distraction) i'm down under the steering wheel ass in the air, when I hear a metallic knock to the window... Look up and see a fucking huge assault machine gun thing!! Turn around and there's 3 more of the bastads on the other side searching round the car.... After a croaking apology and wishing I'd put plastic covers on the car seats turns out I was canoodling outside the main entrance the Chequers.... there were cameras everywhere.... and armed guard patrols..... brilliant

On the plus side I'd technically filmed a porno (albeit not for my pleasure) and could just about say i'd ticked the car-sex box..
(, Fri 4 Jun 2010, 22:34, 3 replies)
big-arse bedbugs
when i was just about to leave my teens, i lived in the most hellish form of accommodation known to man, the bedsit. i hated it. to be fair, it was the first time i'd lived away from the parental home, so i treated it like a squat. i won't go into details(i'd be here all week), but the whole building was nasty.
now, my landlord was my mum's boss, so i got my little hovel furnished for me, including a single bed. i had a boyfriend at the time, tony was his name. as teenagers, i'm sure you can imagine the amount of bedspring boinging we got up to.
one night, we decided that my single bed was just too small. we knew there was an empty, unlocked bedsit across the hall that had a double bed. unfortunately, it had no mattress. my bed had 2, as it was quite low. giggling drunkenly(did i mention we were drunk?)and quite naked, we snuck out of my room and across the hall, holding the first mattress between us. we dumped it on the bed, then rushed back to my room for the other one.
as we were halfway across the hall, we heard a kind of strangled noise. looking round, we saw my very elderly neighbour staring at us. i thought he was going to choke on his false teeth!
it was at this point that tony decided to say "don't worry, mate, we're just really big bedbugs."
how i never dropped my end of the mattress during the fit of laughter that i suffered then, i don't know.
strangely, nothing was ever mentioned by my neighbour.
(, Fri 4 Jun 2010, 21:24, Reply)
Hope the cops enjoyed the show
I've been caught doing more embarrassing things than I can remember, but the worst was when a boyfriend and I got caught, um, doing the deed in his car by the police. We're parked in a dark, secluded spot, we're totally naked and in the middle of things, windows all steamed up, when, bam, the car is hit by spotlights from cop cars parked on either side of us. The cops demand we get out of the car immediately, aren't about to give us any time or privacy to cover up a bit. Pretty sure they were smirking through the whole thing, though we couldn't see their faces (looking back, seems a bit pervy and perhaps even illegal for cops to be ogling a naked 17 year old girl). My boyfriend and I were so mortified that we never saw each other again after this. And people wonder why I don't like cops.
(, Fri 4 Jun 2010, 19:25, Reply)
i am guilty
of singing along to everything in the car. i try to tone it down when i have company, but if i am by myself, it is neither a pretty sight nor sound. i can actually hold a bit of a tune, but not to the extent that i think i can in my head.

so the other day i was really enjoying myself, driving through central london, not too traffic-filled for once, lovely sun beating down, ipod on shuffle. and the ipod decides to get in the mood and play "time of my life". i was waiting at some traffic lights, happily howling along and thinking teenage girl thoughts about patrick swayze's back in that film, when i suddenly realised that the entire bus stop was staring and laughing and pointing at me.

doom. i had completely forgotten that secret singing along to sad songs is not quite so secret when you have a convertible and it is the summertime...
(, Fri 4 Jun 2010, 17:57, 10 replies)
The CDR of shame...
Many many years ago I reached the last day of work with a previous employer and decided as well as packing up all the useless crap in/on my desk I should probably backup all the files I had too. This of course meant the usual mp3's, photos, documents etc etc.

Back then CD burners were still something of an expensive novelty and while my office had one (an external one on a SCSI cable, remember those?), all be it in a side office on another PC, my mates office didn't.

I recall many many months before he'd asked me to backup his assorted files from zip discs to a CD and I'd done it for him. In hindsight it was a bad idea to keep some of those files on my own pc at work. Stashed in my documents, was a folder I'd labelled "Economic statistics 1870-1910" as "really really dirty porn" might have set alarm bells ringing somewhere.

In my haste to grab all my digital junk I moved the folder, complete with "statistics", over the network to the machine with the cd burner. I popped a blank cd in the drive, being an external one it was tucked slightly out of sight to the side of the PC, and set the machine writing the CD... a job which took about an hour.

During this time I was summoned to the main open plan office for the farewell speech, glass of naff wine and bestowing of a moderate gift of limited usefulness.

Wine, speech and social done it was still an hour or so until my day was done and to my delight the boss said, "why don't you knock off early". I duly grabbed my box of crap and headed for the door, stopping only to type "format c:\" into my PC as I left.

A week later I got a phone call from a colleague at the old job. I had literally no idea what she was on about. All the hints about "finding my stash" etc fell on deaf ears as I regarded the smut as my mates I wasn't even mindful it was there.... then the penny dropped about as fast as my jaw did. I know just how filthy some of that stuff was... I know who found it and how offensive that "little old lady" would have thought it was.

Still asked for my CD back though.
(, Fri 4 Jun 2010, 17:40, 1 reply)
Way back when in the long long ago when I was but a young pup, there wasn't a lot of choice for an evenings smoking venue, these mainly consisted of the all the glowing joys of the outside world. i.e. the corner of a car park, an covered seat in a park (kinda bus-sheltery), the woods etc etc (you get the picture).

Well, as the winter started to roll round the indoors kinda seemed inviting. not freezing you knackers off would be a godsend. Luckily a couple of our mates' mothers took a liking to the group and was not averse to letting us crawl through their houses whilst gigglig our little faces off.

one of these evenings a number of us had gathered round at one of these houses and proceeded to munch on some hanging tasting dust which had had a previous life as some kinda mould growth. cue giggling, mirth making, paranoia etc etc (you know the drill)

As the night progressed there occurred a humongous paranoia session (maybe ten minutes but when you hear tell of this story it could have been as long as the history of mankind itself) during which no-one spoke and tried to not make eye contact.

now the scene has been set, on to the actual point of this story.

it took a while but everyone started to look out the window with a strange look in their eyes. unbeknownst to me (huffing a large one at the time) there was a neighbourhood copper standing there looking in, he proceeded to do the old tap tap on the panes.

cut to scene of a mad scramble as everyone runs around and hides paraphernalia. during which in walks mr cop. to say that there was fear in the room would be an understatement, I might have had a little poo, I might not have. use your imagination.

Turns out that a mate had parked his car a little skewiff (well across the road) outside the house and they were knocking to get it moved instead of towed (awwwwww how sweet)

Well, we were not in a fit state to speak but somehow he managed to move the car, speak to the police and return to house un-nicked. cue party restarting all smiles and happiness till the wee hours.

we are still unsure of what was seen through the window but luckily we seem to have got away with it as neigh a word has been mentioned since.

He's a rather nice chap our local cop (known him since I was a little tike) so I assume it was just too much paperwork for him to have nicked us all and he couldn't be bothered. plus we were genuinely lovely peeps (honest).

abstract: cop walks into not quite legal session, gets mate to move car and wanders of about his day. phew.
(, Fri 4 Jun 2010, 16:52, Reply)
Playing kiss-chase in school,
Lucy Hussey once caught me and gave me a big sloppy kiss. It was reported in the local paper as the worst case of the lurgy that Charing Cross Hospital had ever seen.
(, Fri 4 Jun 2010, 16:07, Reply)
Rakky's story reminded me
I used to work in a lab. I was on my own with the radio on. Most experiments I did required incubation periods. I was sort of twiddling my thumbs during a 10 min incubations when "Hit me baby one more time" by Britney came on the radio I was singing along when a genius thought came to me. I quicky filled a rubber glove with some helum so I could make the high notes in the "still believe" backing vocal.

When doing this very silly thing one of the professors of the department came in to ask me somthing. My voice was still squeaky when I answered him.
(, Fri 4 Jun 2010, 16:01, 5 replies)
At Uni (a good few years ago... 1989 in fact), I was dating a young lady called Trish...

Now, Trish was a dirty-girl (no, she wasn't into that sort of dirt. Just had a healthy approach to any sort of ad-hoc "rumpy-pumpy").

She lived in shared accomodation in town. I was in a shared room on campus.

She shared with a young lady, Helen, who was so short she was nick-named "Half-Pint".

Well, their room was set out with two single beds side-by-side, a gap of about 2 feet between them (approx 1/2 a whale's snout in metric).

One night, after a particularly enjoyable session at the Garrick's Head (no - not a bird turgler - thanks), we perambulated to hers for a nice "cuddle".

Alas, Helen was already a-bed. And asleep. And snoring. So, we decided to "do the deed" anyway - keeping each other "quiet" with the judicious use of hands.

I'm on top, and, as we get really hot'n'steamy, I glance over to Helen's bed, to see her staring wide at us.

She winked.

Her hands were vigorously moving under the covers as I watched.

As I started to lose all control, Trish started to wail, and Helen shuddered, pulled one hand from under the covers and *licked her finger*.

****GAME OVER****

I doubt I have ever come so hard, or felt so surreptitiously dirty and turned on at the same time.

She'd gone in the morning to see her boyfriend.

I split with Trish later that week.

Haven't seen either of them again.

But Half-Pint is still in my mind. Anytime I feel I can't get there, in she pops.

So, getting caught can be good!
(, Fri 4 Jun 2010, 15:30, 18 replies)
Not too long ago at work, I was in the kitchen making a cup of tea when I felt a fart build up. It seemed like a little one, so I gave it a gentle push to help it on its way.

Bad move.


Oh well, at least no-one heard - then I turned round to see a female colleague, who I fancied, staring at me with an expression of utter disgust.

Oh well.

Dr S
(, Fri 4 Jun 2010, 15:12, 2 replies)
I love a cup of tea in bed in the morning.
One morning I was particularly enjoying my brew, from the first short "it's still a bit hot" sips through the increasingly large gulps which were allowed to swirl pleasurably around the mouth before swallowing, and then arriving at the last mouthful, I closed my eyes, tilted back my head and slowy drained the cup, savouring every last lingering drop and remaining motionless for several moments afterwards.

When I opened my eyes I realised that my Mum had been in, and left some tissues that she'd wanked onto on the bedside table.
(, Fri 4 Jun 2010, 14:58, 15 replies)
have a pea
Me and Mrs Duck..
.... were on holiday in Edinburgh. We decided we needed to do some proper walking so we caught a train to the nearest mountains.

We had a lovely walk never saw a soul all day, on the way down the mountain, we got a bit frisky, I won't go into details, but we ended up having a thoroughly enjoyable fuck by a stream.

So there we were, I was on top pounding away, ahem, making lurve, when i felt something cold and wet poke me in the ass. I turned and saw a Spaniel sniffing me and his owner scurrying passed as quick as he could. I waved said a cheery "afternoon", so did Mrs Duck and after a bit of gigling we carried on. Luckily he didn't stick around to watch or encourage Fido to join in.

Later we stopped in a pub for some food and a drink and he was there with his dog, we waved again he looked confused, bet he told his mates though
(, Fri 4 Jun 2010, 14:44, 1 reply)
More Monkey's

Sugar Spun's story reminded me of the time when I had the wife and the bairn as Stirling Safari park (probably the same monkey enclosure, as they are all dead now as well).

We had this big male monkey thingy clamber onto the car and after all the normal oh's n ah's you get from children in safari parks when animals get "that" close watched as it clambered up onto the roof of the car.

We sat quietly as it padded about for a while and then all went quiet.

I tweaked the electric mirror's to see that the fkr was doing it's best to chew the roof rail off the car..

How do I stop it? thinks I.

At this I went from first into second and just into third as quickly as the car would go and then...... braked as hard as I could.

Picture a hairy ball of pissed of monkey flying through the air and landing in an annoyed heap about oh 15/20 feet from the front of the car....

Lots of annoyed fangs and shrieks back at us before it ran off....

The rangers must have seen the whole thing as he was bent over the steering wheel of his jeep in gail's of laughter....

Caught yep well n truly, however only thing left to show for it was the teeth marks.
(, Fri 4 Jun 2010, 14:38, 18 replies)
Some years ago, I was out walking my dog.
We were in Hinchingbrook Park in Huntingdon when it became evry obvious I was in great need of a mud out. It became clear I would need to locate a suitable place to drop and quick. I had a single kleenex tissue in my pocket, so I split it in two and stuffed them with moss to ensure maximum wipage and popped into some bushes.

The dog had found a chum and was busy playing so I looked round, nobody about so I dropped my trouers and proceeded to empty my arse. Well, the first carriage was only half way out of the tunnel when this rather pompous old lady who was also walking a dog, well a yappy rat really, called out to me. "You there!" I didn't know what to do so I stayed quiet. "Are you alright?" she replied, "You there, ARE YOU ALL RIGHT ?". I replied, "Fine thanks, just looking for my ...er keys". How was I to know she was almost deaf. "ARREE YOOOU ALLLLL RIGHT?" she repeated slowly. "Yes, I'M FINE, JUST LOOKING FOR SOMETHING." She still didn't hear and started calling things out to me. Just then one of the park wardens came over to see what all the fuss was all about only to arrive as I had realised she was deaf and shouted back, "Fuck off you old trout. I'm having a shit!"

Some words were exchanged. I left the park, I haven't been back there.
(, Fri 4 Jun 2010, 14:34, Reply)
On illicit shagging
Note to self:

When taking the girlfriend off to bed for a furtive shag (this was at age 19) It's always a good idea to make sure that:

A: The parents really have left the family home for the afternoon as they were intending to.

B:The bed used for the urgent sex session is not under any circumstances pushed loosely against the radiator in your bedroom.The resultant banging tends to reverberate around the entire heating system and piping.

Taking the above into account, you may not then have to deal with a shout up the stairs during the "vinegar strokes" to see if you would like a "Post Coital Coffee"?

Put me right off it did...We legged it straight out as soon as we got dressed...

That was 24 years ago and Ii still shudder about it now.
(, Fri 4 Jun 2010, 14:33, 1 reply)
I never met a white supremacist who wasn't a wanker.

There's a downside to aquiring lots of music from anyone who leaves me alone with their computer and a flash drive.

One good thing about being alone in the house is that I can have a bath with the door open. I can hit the 'random play' function on my computer and turn the volume up good & loud and have music in the bath. It's really nice; with (at last count) 85ish gb of music, I rather like hitting random - there's a lot of stuff I don't know about in there and random play throws up some interesting variety. Of course, one thing I hadn't realised during my music-filching from friends and acquaintances is some of the stuff I'd pick up in the process, amongst which, it turned out, were the jolly complete works of White Supremacist C&W singer 'Johnny Rebel' sitting in the depths of my hard drive. You can probably guess the rest.

As a sat in the bath there came belting out of the speakers, good and loud, a cheery rendition of a song about what you might expect to see if you walked through an immigrant area of town. Suffice to say, it wasn't a song you want playing at full volume on Saturday afternoon in South London with the window open.
I sat bolt upright, hopped out of the bath, and ran through to turn it off before the neighbours grabbed their pitchforks and stormed my flat. Running through, I stubbed my toe painfully against the step and was reduced to a pathetic hopping and flailing into the living room. As I did so, I looked up through the window and directly into the eyes of the yuppie couple in the flat across the road.
Their thoughts could not have been more clear if they'd held a couple of flags and semaphored them to me.
"There is a fat, naked, wet man covered in bubbles in the flat opposite dancing to loud, White Supremacist Country & Western Music."
I turned the music off and fled from the room. Behind me, as if by telepathy, I could hear their conversation. "I'm going to sue that Estate Agent."

Once I got dried I searched my MP3's and deleted Johnny Rebel.
You can't be too careful.
(, Fri 4 Jun 2010, 14:30, 2 replies)
When your dog greets you at the front door with a used condom dangling from his chops
you can guess what your teenage son and his girlfriend have been up to.
(, Fri 4 Jun 2010, 14:15, 10 replies)
A few years back I was laying on my bed, tugging myself silly whilst listening to music through my earphones. I had my eyes closed as I tried to delve into the back of my wank bank.

The music was quite loud, so I didn't hear my mum knock at the door. She walked in with a tray of tea and biscuits, and saw me frantically pulling my plonker. Things got worse. She pulled my earphones out and put them to her ear.

"Celine Dion??!!".

It was. I had been caught listening to Celine Dion. The shame.
(, Fri 4 Jun 2010, 13:57, 2 replies)
I'd love to believe this is true.....
Mate of mine told me a story in Uni that he returned home one day from lectures to find his housemate enjoying oneself on his bed, watching his porn collection.

Explain that one.
(, Fri 4 Jun 2010, 13:53, 1 reply)
All these posts about being caught shaking hands with the bishop/making the beast with two backs etc. Shocking.

Anyway, just off to the bedroom to pair my socks. Don't come in for a while eh?
(, Fri 4 Jun 2010, 13:52, Reply)
"Why do you switch tabs every time I walk in?"

(, Fri 4 Jun 2010, 13:47, 3 replies)
Caught- let off.
So, I was in a car crash. Nothing too strange there, Witnesses pulled over and one even called the police for me (considering the woman who drove into me was showing signs of being worse for wear).
Now, I hadn't long passed my test, and as such, was acting driver for many. On this particular occasion, three stunning girls from work, any one of whom I would have gladly got in the back of the car.
The police arrived, and questioned/breathalised all and sundry. As one male officer walked to the back of the car to take details, numberplate and such, he happened to glance in the boot. Sitting in plain sight was a three foot by two foot Metropolitan police sign and a number of cones marked up the same. He looked at me, and beckoned me to the side of the road again. Here we go, I thought, this is almost as bad as that time I nearly got caught going through customs. (A whole other story I may find it in myself to regale you with later.)
He paused, and leant forward to speak "quietly" in my ear.
"One thing I don't understand... How come there's one of you and three of them?"
I smiled in that 'I'm wishing' kind of way. He looked at me with a puzzled grimace then walked away from the back of the car, leading his suspicious collegues away from the crime scene.
Treatment from that moment was awesome. Not enough could be done to ensure I was allowed to go on my way (to the pool party I forgot to mention earlier) with everything left intact. The girls were quite impressed with my demeanor. I even managed to cop off with one at the party!
The bint who dented the Purple Pisspot (Mum's car) got done for dangerous driving.
(, Fri 4 Jun 2010, 13:43, Reply)
“Some dirty bastard has shat on the seat”,
..were the words of disgust from the bargirl as she stepped out from behind the bar, face contorted with disbelief, coat hanger in hand. A few of us went silent, pints held inches from our open mouths.

“Erm, what’s the coat hanger for?”, someone asked. “Are you going to hang it out to dry?”

There was stifled laughter amongst my group of friends; I tried my hardest to get the image of a turd hanging gracefully on a washing line, swaying in the wind, out of my head.

“No. I’m going to knock it in with it.”

We fell about laughing. As the bargirl ventured into the murky gents toilets, talk turned to the culprit of such a heinous (but quite amusing nonetheless) crime. One friend, Ashley, was particularly quiet and wasn’t joining in much. Whilst most of us sniggered, and found the episode thoroughly enjoyable, he had gone quite coy. Fingers were soon pointed in the direction of Ashley.

“Shut up, she’s fucking livid” Ashley said, starting to turn crimson.

“Did you do it? Did you?”. We were all eager to hear his story, but after much probing, there was still no owning up from Ashley, despite all evidence pointing to him. He'd been to the toilets recently, and for quite a while. We carried on with the questioning until the bargirl returned from the gents, hand over her mouth, gagging.

“I can’t do it. It’s making me heave”.

With the evidence literally still sat there waiting, we ventured in to see the damage. As we piled into the gents, there were cries of both horror and joy. There, on the back on the toilet seat, was a perfectly formed baby toilet truffle, about 5 inches long. The damage to the fecal matter from the hook on the coat hanger was visible with a few vertical ‘stripes’ down the side of it where the bargirl had tried to hook it off the seat and into the bowl. This turd was sticking around it seemed.

With none of us brave enough to try and shift it, we spilled back out into the bar and returned to our pints. Simon grabbed Ashley’s phone from his hand,

“Just need to text…WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT??!!!”

Ashley’s head dropped. We all gathered round. There was the all the evidence needed to convict him of the crime right in front of us. A photo, taken on his mobile, which he’d been trying desperately to delete. We ribbed him mercifully.

“Why, Ash? Why?” one of us enquired.

“I just thought it would be a laugh, but then I saw her reaction”, he motioned towards the bar “and thought better of it.”

I wasn’t sure what to think, but things took a further twist.

“Ashley, in this photo, the shit is on the right hand side, but in the toilet, it’s slap bang in the centre. Why?”

“It looked better in the middle”, came Ash’s reply, and with that, we collapsed into fits of giggles once more.
(, Fri 4 Jun 2010, 13:20, 1 reply)
ripping off drug dealers
sitting in the car while my brother went into a house for some recreational substances. Shortly after, one of the house's occupants pulled up, fell out of the car, obviously off his face and goes inside, leaving a sports bag on top of his car.
As I was retrieving said bag, a very large man got out of the car.
"Here, you're mate left this".
(, Fri 4 Jun 2010, 12:52, 8 replies)
I was at a house party
and was staying over, they had an attic room with two double beds in. The owner of the house was the ex boyfriend of the girl I was with but he seemed cool and let us stay in the attic room together. We retired up there and got down to some serious shagging. The filthy cow had just told me to stick it in her arse and I had just obliged when two other people walked in to the room. I thought they would realise what we were doing and quietly disappear. Instead they went to the other bed and started fucking the life out of each other. Put me right off my stroke I can tell you.
(, Fri 4 Jun 2010, 12:00, 2 replies)
Not me, but some monkeys
I used to work in an amusement park that had a drive-through safari. Many moons ago, one of the enclosures was full of monkeys, cheeky little chappies that would climb all over your car if you stopped and you could feed them treats. Awwww....

However there were really thieving pikeys who would dismantle peoples cars whenever they pulled up to feed them. Aerials, the rubber bits round the windows, sometimes even bumpers..they were proper little shits who were the cause of many complaints. When the foot and mouth crisis hit the countryside, they all contracted it and had to be put down, which was very sad, but many people were sort of glad to see the back of the furry wankers.

When it came to prepping the enclosure for the next animal who'd call it home, they were doing a big clean-up and found a corner FULL of bits of cars. It was an absolute mountain. They'd been collecting peoples wing mirrors and such, and had hidden them from view in a hidden corner of the enclosure.

Dead now though, aren't they, hahahahaha.
(, Fri 4 Jun 2010, 12:00, 11 replies)
I was driving in my car...
Driving down the motorway and a song comes on the radio, I decided to give it some 'big licks' and join in, passionately singing my heart out to some sort of Rock Ballad. Cue the end of the song and I catch sight of something from the corner of my eye. Turns out to be a car full of youths driving parallel alongside absolutely pissing themselves whilst pointing at me. I will always squirm when I think about that moment.
(, Fri 4 Jun 2010, 11:50, Reply)
Public toilets...
...desperate to lay an egg, I reluctantly used the grubby public toilets in a car park. I'm sitting there minding my own business, when I became aware that the person in the next cubicle was making 'fwapping' noises. I decide to finish my poo business as fast as possible and it was then it went quiet next door. I then noticed that the 'fwapping' had started again, but this time there was a pair of eyes peering over the cubicle at me.
Absolutely furious I told him to fuck off and that I was going to smash him in the gob. He ran off and the only clue to his identity was a yellow tartan cap (it was the early 70's).

Five minutes later I'm walking towards the bus stop feeling very pissed off and I spot a friend waiting for the bus. Wearing a yellow tartan cap. We both knew but neither of us said anything about it.
(, Fri 4 Jun 2010, 11:49, 2 replies)
Not yet they haven't

(, Fri 4 Jun 2010, 11:37, 3 replies)

This question is now closed.

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