
Stranded in a hotel in an African war zone with no internet access for two weeks, I was forced to resort to desperate measures. Possessing only my passport and the clothes I stood up in; and the warning "You can catch it shaking hands with a vicar out there" ringing in my ears, I had to draw my own porn in order to preserve my sanity.
Alas, it all came out looking like Coronation Street's Audrey Roberts, but, as they say, any port in a storm.
What have you done in times of great desperation?
( , Thu 15 Nov 2007, 10:10)
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This is real-time QOTW-ing, people:
There I was, sitting in the third cubicle along, quietly going about my business.
Suddenly there is the sound of feet and someone dashes into the next stall along, bolting the door behind himself.
There is the rustling of clothing before a pained cry of "Oh, God, NO! heralds an explosion of nutty slack, most of which seemed to be coming under the partition in my direction.
Having completely missed the target area the air is rent with the smell of faeces, and I look down with a great deal of dismay to see a quantity had settled on my Ben Sherman boots.
"Sorry!" said a voice before further explosions left me with no alternative but to flee for my life.
Desperate times, indeed.
( , Fri 16 Nov 2007, 14:44, 8 replies)

Why can't people control their bowels?
Was it female or male?
( , Fri 16 Nov 2007, 14:48, closed)

fell at the last hurdle.
So near yet so far.
To late to hear the cry...and so on
( , Fri 16 Nov 2007, 14:53, closed)

...and yet so far. So he lost the photo finish then? Either that or he doesn't like the Ben Sherman brand. No manners but what a critic.
( , Fri 16 Nov 2007, 15:00, closed)

Do you at least know who he was? If only to offer salvation, in the form of a custom-turned cork.
( , Fri 16 Nov 2007, 17:40, closed)

I would have hung around and made him lick them clean.
That is seriously rank.
( , Sat 17 Nov 2007, 16:43, closed)

...such was my disgust, I bought a new pair of boots.
My Shermans. Ruined.
( , Sun 18 Nov 2007, 10:43, closed)
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