Crap little monkey has just reminded me...
In the pub, few years ago, before the novelty of blueteeth had worn off, a bunch of particularly miserable and grumpy old bastards were sat at their usual table. We were on the next table.

One of them had a new(ish) mobile phone.

Long story short, we send him a short clip of gay shock-pron, and we all try to act casual, while literally wetting ourselves, as they all huddled round the 'wonder of modern technology' to watch a bloke with a magnificently huge wang, pull out of a recipient's sheriff's badge, only to see a two foot double-ender follow the exit strategy.

They were absolutely lost for words for about 5 minutes.

For some reason, the more you try not to laugh, the more you need to burst. There is probably a complex but robust, mathematical equation for this.
(Superfool is going to skull-fuck your ladyfriends..., Tue 22 Sep 2009, 13:46, Reply)