Senior's Night
Before settling down with for a relationship with a housemate (bad move for any student), Joe was a bit of a Desperate Dan when it came to women. I'd known the lad for a couple of years and seen him bounce from teenage crush to teenage crush without getting a single go at sexyhappyfuntime inbetween.

In these cases, you undertake in what all unattractive, culturally deprived singles with personalities of knobrot do: you go clubbing on a Saturday night in Birmingham city centre.

Many pubs and many drinks later, Joe is chatting up a pretty fit lass. At least she was from a distance. The closer I got to the couple, the older the woman got. It eventually dawned on me that this bird was 60 going on 20. As I had skipped the voluntary sign language course at secondary school, I couldn't recite the sign for 'prehistoric slapper'. Hell, I couldn't even do the semaphore version despite having some fully-functional glowsticks at the time.

Needless to say, I retreated back to my student halls in the wee hours chuckling away at the inevitable coffin-snatching that would be happening in the next room later on. With the aching taste of kebab and still fully plastered, I'm awoken by the sound of an 18 stone rugby player gargling a litre of mouthwash and screaming at how stupid he was (not simultaneously, otherwise I would've given him another standing ovation).

Turns out this kinky minx had decided to boast at how good she was at the old oral pleasure by offering a 'demonstration' right there on the dance floor. The first step was to remove her false teeth. The poor lad ran a good 4 miles home to purge the mouldy saliva from his gums.
(FoxyBadger (try saying it backwards), Thu 4 Dec 2008, 14:16, Reply)