Well, wouldn't you?
My mate Peter, throughout his whole school career, would wear a safety pin attached to the front of his blazer.

Any enquiries as to what the heck / bloody hell / fuck it was doing there (and there were plenty) resulted in little but a knowing look in reply. Or a cavalcade of obscenities, depending on what mood he was in.

One day in the 5th form a bunch of us were pissing around in the woods out back of the playing fields, and somebody got a splinter in their hand. I looked at it, little bit nasty and trapped right inside the skin. I said "what you need now is a sa...."

Everything stopped and as one, we all turned to Peter who was proudly proffering his safety pin with a big shit eating grin on his face.

He'd waited six years for this moment.

I slapped the pin out of his hand, we kicked him into a ditch and pissed on him. The fucking cunt.
(Ali Bongo 9000 Ali Bongo 9000, Thu 27 Oct 2005, 15:31, Reply)