On a wang and a dare.
I went to an all-boys private (snobby, expensive) school. For the first few years I went as a boarder and when my mum moved closer then I finished my matriculation as a "gay-boy" (the boarders light-hearted nick name for day boys).
My school shared a fence line with an equally hoity-toity Ladies College. A gate between the two school was situated right next to our house common room. As such we had a hearty & healthy relationship with the young lady boarders from next door - no it's not what you're thinking, all the boarders were absolute pigdogs and seeing how we're all from the country there was a good chance our families knew each other or worse still we may have been related. The "gay-girls" on the other hand were fair fucking game.

During my time as a boarder you got to know certain physical attributes about each other, you just can't help it - there are only so many tiles on the opposite wall you can look at whilst communally showering. One particular attribute belonged to a young man named Gerry Taylor. Now Gerry had a bent cock. I can't remember the medical term but Gerry's schlong turned a right angled turn to the right about half way along the shaft. Apparently even when turgid Gerry's member had a distinct curve - not that I would know of course. But when flaccid it's head sat parallel to his body.
Being the kind, caring community that we were we immediately named him "banana-cock" or just "Bent" for short. And then we promptly told everyone who would listen. Including some of our lady friends from next door. Nothing shot him down quicker when trying to get in the knickers of some pretty girl at a Social (school dance) than someone calling him Bent.
Gerry wasn't the tightest turn on the map if you get my drift - his claim to fame was getting expelled in yr. 9 while walking sodden, down the street having lit a fire in the men's toilets at the local shopping centre and setting off the fire alarm and sprinklers.

Anyhoo, on with the story. One evening we were playing a game of "I fucken' dare ya", which is truth or dare with the girly bits removed. Hey this is a bunch of teenaged boys at boarding school - after a wank and some pot-noodles you've got to make your own entertainment.
Some bright spark came up with the idea of a streak thru the ladies college. We could wear balaclavas and sneakers. We knew a secret way down to the river banks behind both schools and stashed some trakky daks (tracksuit tops and bottoms) there for us to change into and then we could sneak up the steep embankment back to our boarding house before anyone was anymore the wiser. Some of us even had the excuse of being at rowing training as a cover story.
So the plan was made - we were to run in nothing else but balaclavas and running shoes from our gate to the opposite side of the ladies college. We even decide to leave for our run from one of the other boarding houses (much to thir dismay) to throw the teachers off the scent. We chose a Friday morning as that was both schools assembly morning. And we were to meet up in the common room afterwards.
Off we went like a shower of shit - 6 fit, young blokes, tackle flapping in the breeze, dodging squeaking and shrieking young ladies as we shouted "Coming thru!" and "Make way!". We all got back safely and fully clothed.
We'd done it and got away with it (or so we thought). There was only One. Small. Problem.
Of course one of the young ladies recognised that one of the streakers had a *ahem* somewhat distinctive physical attribute. That many people were able to guess belonged to Gerry. Who when questioned, folded like a stack of towels at a linen company.
A couple of other guys got suspended along with Gerry. The rest of us thanked and in turn threatened the 'caught' culprits into keeping their silence.

Length: About 100m from one school gate to the other and then a 30 odd metre scramble down the riverbank slope and the same in reverse to get back again.
TL;DR? - Boys with bent cocks shouldn't run naked thru a girls school lest they be recognised due to their bent cock.
(s0ckpuppet logging out to reply to you if you're not careful, Thu 15 Aug 2013, 8:17, 7 replies)

This went well.

( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Thu 15 Aug 2013, 7:55, 1 reply)

I don't care.

(dozers, do fuck off ur a nob m8, Wed 14 Aug 2013, 23:16, 4 replies)

Spiked
Whilst at Uni on a Skol 1080 promotion night (In't Union bar), my mate spiked me with a green microdot. After attacking a flatmate and pulling him by the dreads down a corridor. I then dropped my trousers and clouts and pressed myself, from behind against a guy playing pinball. He left quickly with his mate. I then took in on myself after much encouragement to sit on a joystick on one of the arcade games. Things got worse after this, but clothed.
( p4c_m4n There, I said it!, Wed 14 Aug 2013, 22:43, 10 replies)

I once sent..
a picture of me, naked, with a cricket bat handle up my bum, to everyone in my addrss book...
Cost a small fortune in stamps
Shirley Bindun?
(lordy lordy, Wed 14 Aug 2013, 20:33, 4 replies)

I just asked the window cleaner if he had ever caught people, you know, like in compromised
situations. "Yes" says he. "Ahhhhh" says I. "Not when window cleaning though, more in my role of pervert, washing line knicker sniffer, dogging voyeur, hidden camera in the changing rooms expert and general all round bad sort" growls he.

"Ohhhh" I says.

Anyone think I should contact the authoritahs or 4chan him for a doxing even though everything I wrote, this time, is lies.
( d.r._and_quinch when will you be famous?, Wed 14 Aug 2013, 16:01, 4 replies)

Had to visit the hospital as a teenager
The doctor seemed to think I may have twisted my testicle and was eager to have a grope before deciding whether to whisk me away and operate. He asked my father (not me!) if a couple of student doctors could watch the examination and stupidly my father said yes... at which point people began to file in until there was nowhere for me to look except at faces peering eagerly at my rapidly shrivelling genitals.

I was then later whisked away for an X-Ray but left bored with a piece of lead covering my pride and joy. A bored teenager inevitably results in a wandering mind... the nurse noticed the lead had slipped from its position and went to adjust it, only to be confronted by my barely clothed erection springing me. At least I have an excuse for my sexual repression.
(Crompton, Wed 14 Aug 2013, 11:11, 6 replies)

A small crowd gathered around my naked cock
...and then asked one of the stupidest questions I've ever heard:

"So, would you like a general anesthetic, or would you prefer to stay awake while we slice open your penis with sharp knives?"

I defy anyone to maintain an erection in THOSE circumstances...
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Wed 14 Aug 2013, 10:29, 3 replies)

I was once exposed as the second account of a dreary fat Australian
Then I deleted all my posts, drowned myself and my family in my 44,000l saltwater pool and then deleted my account, never to post again.
( tangledupinblue hairy badge with moving eyes, Wed 14 Aug 2013, 10:22, 101 replies)

Esca-pain.
Around when I was 13 I developed a hernia. Can't remember exactly what it was called but as it was explained to me - I had a big tear in my abdominal muscles just above where my pubes had sprouted.
EDIT: Apparently caused by too much heavy lifting or physical exertion
Now this was before I became the mental giant that I am today and I had simply taken it for granted that everyone went thru periods when they had trouble standing up straight and were regularly doubled over in excruciating pain.
This obviously went some way to explaining that pain. The surgeon asked me what I did for recreation and when I told him "judo and I mowed lawns for pocket money" he was a little less inclined to call out Children's Services on my mum. He told me he'd seen grown men incapacitated with smaller tears.

Then he told us how I needed surgery. Seeing how hospitals and I rarely met in good circumstances - broken bones, cuts and stitches etc. it was no surprise that I wasn't having a fucking bar of it. I'd get better on my own thanghhnnNNNNGGGG!! OWWW!
So surgery it was.
Now I've always been very quick to come out of anaesthetics - after a recent gastroscopy the nursing staff were a little nonplussed at my eagerness to get up, get dressed and GTFO of there.

Anyhoo - I came to in recovery and tried to sit up. I was covered by an untied gown and blanket. The bastards had shaved my pubes - I was an early developer and had been quite proud of my thatch above and around the old fella. Pricks!
So, time to find mum and bail on these surroundings thinks I. I tried to fasten the gown but I seemed to be in a slightly increasing amount of pain & why the fuck do they tie at the back anyway?! I gently slid the needles in my hand out (fucking ouch!) and staggered back to where I last saw mum whilst trying not to show the world my bum. No luck there so I caught a lift down to the carpark - maybe she was waiting for me in the car (?). It must have been fairly hectic cause in this day and age I can't imagine a 13 yo. boy being able to wander off from recovery let alone stumble out the front doors in nothing but an open gown.

Mum wasn't at the car and the car wasn't even where I remembered her parking it - it was a long walk home and I really wasn't feeling the best but fuck it, they'd done what they wanted to do and I wasn't hanging around any longer than I had to. Then the parking attendant/security guy saw me and shouted.
OH SHIT!.
As I tried to cheese it (stumblingly) the gown fell off and there I was being chased around the hospital carpark by some security monkey (clearly by this stage they'd discovered the lack of me in recovery) in the all-together. Slowly dodging in and out of cars, surprising more than just a couple of hospital patrons I was keen to make a slow, naked, laboured break for it.

Eventually they caught me and as gently as possible got me on a gurney, covered my shame with a blanket and got me back inside where my mum fluctuated between showering me with relieved kisses and screaming at me wondering what the fuck did I think I was doing? The doctors checked I was ok - thankfully my naked chase exertions hadn't caused anything to come unstuck. I soon discovered that many of the nurses were young and good looking and they frequently had to come and have a good close look at my groin. So there was that.

Length? A 2-3" scar just inside from the top of my right hip. Can hardly see it these days thru the forest of grey hairs.
(s0ckpuppet logging out to reply to you if you're not careful, Wed 14 Aug 2013, 5:13, 27 replies)

My World heritage Cock gets a second airing.
Pearoast from 2009..

Back in the 80's there was a bit of a storm, blew a few trees down and stuff like that, one tree in particular dropping a branch on a little old ladies wall in her back garden that just so happens to be next to that lovely tourist attraction the Royal Crescent in Bath. Fast forward a couple of years and a 16 year old me and my boss at the time are fixing said wall and making some alterations so she could get her mobility scooter in and out (she told me she used to be a rally driver, and judging by the way she tore up Vicky Park that day I'm inclined believe her).

Being a lovely day in summer, and being a scruffy teen labourer I wasn't too fussed about wearing my trousers where there was a bit of a hole in the crotch. It let a bit of air in and helped keep things cool, and really wasn't that big...

Come lunchtime, and I went out back to lean against the wall and soak up the sun which was ace, watch all the tourists stroll by and dream of how many records I could by with the cash. Strangely though, the tourists were all acting a bit weird, some looking slightly offended by my scruffy self and some even taking pictures; not as if I was lowering the tone that much, and they could still get a good picture of the crescent without me in it if they just went round the corner, moody gits.

Half an hour later, I'm thinking it's time to go back to work, bend down to pick up my rubbish and ! I'm presented with my cock quite contentedly enjoying the sunshine just as much as me! My favourite boxers at the time, yes, the ones with holes in that you should throw away but don't because you like them, had colluded with the larger-than-I-remembered-it hole in my jeans and were teaching me a lesson in why blokes favourite clothing shouldn't be held on to for too long.

Surprised the tourists, hell, it surprised me! Had to endure a very self conscious afternoon of work too, especially as mini me seemed to have developed a taste for the fresh air.

I now throw my clothes away when they have holes in...
( Jimbuktu See? Right here, Tue 13 Aug 2013, 23:19, 2 replies)

I got my son to play with my helmet
Star Wars
(McChinaman banned, Tue 13 Aug 2013, 22:10, 1 reply)

I was once exposed as a woman hating grot peddler
after posters on popular internet website "B3ta" stumbled across my online collection of ropey "nerd birds" with lego, 12 sided dice and games workshop goblins stuffed up their fetid mimsys.
( Naked Ape call me Caitlyn, Tue 13 Aug 2013, 22:08, 40 replies)

Penis hanging out
University Ski Bash at Saalbach in Austria. We decide to chat up the local Fraulein with our penises(penii?) hanging out of our flies. This went on for a couple of hours with much merriment and mirth laughing at each other with our todgers out. Sometimes the girls would notice, other times they didn't.

Then someone grassed us up to the battleaxe landlady who came running and shouting holding a pair of scissors. We didn't stay long and scarpered leaving our piss filled bottles of Apple Schnapps which is another story...
(vikingaero Deilvered To Your Door in 30 mins, Tue 13 Aug 2013, 16:54, 13 replies)

Limousine
I was waiting at a traffic light one Saturday night when a limousine pulled up next to me. I caught some movement from the corner of my eye, turned, and saw an enormous moon pointing towards me from one of the windows of the vehicle. I glared at the driver, but he didn't meet my gaze.
(Perv With A Dog had his eyes pecked out by scrub jays on, Tue 13 Aug 2013, 16:52, 3 replies)

I used to live on the 12th floor of a block of flats in Mill Hill, Blackburn. The block was called
Ewood Court and overlooked Ewood Park football stadium. My view however was into delightful countryside and the West Pennine Moors. To see into my flat and assuming no glare on the windows one would have to be about 2 miles away with a very powerful rifle scope or a not so powerful telescope. So, I really did feel very comfortable wondering around in the nude and getting close to the floor to ceiling windows without fear of embarrassment. So, I thought.

I was naked and wearing nothing but my yellow, man size marigolds as I was on a cleaning mission that day. Hot and sweaty and the chores completed I looked at my dirty man body in the mirror and of course thought I deserve a good wank. I was very horny, due to the yellow, man size marigolds and that I was such a dirty boy.

Forgoing the toothpaste in favour of some handy KY jelly, I applied the lube on my cock and began the lonely dance. Into the bedroom, into the other bedroom, into the lounge, pulling and jerking at my penis. This went on for some time and eventually in the living room and I was stood very close to the floor to ceiling windows with my eyes closed and focused on the task, I eventually gushed forth my volume of man muck.

Imagine my surprise when I opened my eyes, to see at the 12th floor level a hot air balloon basket with 8 people in the basket. 8 people who I could clearly see that they had clearly seen exactly what I was about in my private space, they were only 25ft away. Apparently it was the annual show at Witton Country Park.

Lucky buggers.

And for awhile I became known as Slimcea Boy.
( d.r._and_quinch when will you be famous?, Tue 13 Aug 2013, 16:20, 20 replies)

At school I exposed myself to a girl called Sharon.
Now in this day and age I probably would have been arrested and sentenced to some detention centre but back in the early 80's before AIDS and hysteria all Sharon did was swoon or something.

However, things did turn interesting for me, I had exposed myself to Sharon on the day we broke up for the Easter holidays. Upon returning to school I found I had been christened Donkey Dick, apparently Sharon who was a known expert on the penis was suitably impressed by the length and girth. Donkey Dick is hardly the worst nickname that can be handed out.

As a practising homo, I can now pretty much attest that I do not have a donkey dick but only once have I been beaten on length, never on girth.

tl;dr - boastful prick has something to boast about.
( d.r._and_quinch when will you be famous?, Tue 13 Aug 2013, 12:33, 25 replies)

Sleepless in Singapore
I was staying in a low-rent hotel in the red light district of Geylang, so meretricious that I literally had to push through crowds of prostitutes five deep to get from the taxi to the front door, and I had a Very Important Flight to catch at 5am the next morning.

To ensure that I wouldn't miss it, I packed away everything I had in my suitcase, leaving out only my hand luggage, a set of clothes for the next day, my travel documents and a carrier bag. Then I went out at lunchtime and began drinking heavily, so that by 8pm I was completely plastered. Suitably inebriated, I returned to the hotel - spurning the advances of hundreds of Chinese call girls along the way - and back in my room I had a bath, put my dirty clothes in the carrier and got to bed about 9. After setting every alarm I could lay my hands on for 4am I fell into deep unconsciousness...

...only to wake up, drunk and disorientated, in a bright corridor...to the sound of my hotel room door slamming shut behind me. I must have slept so fitfully, worrying about missing the flight, that somehow I'd gotten up in the night and sleepwalked right out of my room. A quick check revealed that I was completely naked and locked out of my own room, but fortunately I was clutching something in my left hand. Hoping against hope that I'd managed to grab a bathrobe during my unplanned egress I looked down to find that instead, my unconscious brain had furnished me with one of the tiny hand-towels from by the sink as my sole means of protecting my modesty.

At this point a young lady walked around the corner and presented with a naked emvee, she screamed an ear-piercing shriek that threatened to bring the hotel's security staff running and also wasn't doing terribly great things for my state of mind. With the ridiculously small towel positioned over my joy division I managed, against all odds, to calm her down and explain my situation in broken Singlish whereupon she went down to reception and (presumably) told them there was a skinny naked Englishman on the third floor.

About ten very awkward minutes later I was let into my room by a pair of sniggering ladies from the hotel's front desk, no doubt imagining I'd had some kind of hilarious altercation with one of the district's many, many ladies of the night. I didn't even see the point in trying to explain otherwise.
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Tue 13 Aug 2013, 10:23, 29 replies)

'Nuff Sed.

One of the few times my mum could get me to be fully clothed for a photo.
(s0ckpuppet logging out to reply to you if you're not careful, Tue 13 Aug 2013, 10:04, 9 replies)

Not me, but my friend's tale of woe, which always makes me laugh
For her entire time at university, my friend Evie had been in love with this guy on her course, Ginger Nick. In two years, she had just about managed to get to the "smile across the bar" stage. She also had a flatmate called Jenny, who was the most irritatingly stunning girl you've ever seen.

Finally one evening the impossible happened. She bumped into Ginger Nick in the student union, beers were had, cigarettes were had, and finally, FINALLY, Evie jumped on him and tongues were exchanged. Ecstatic, Evie dragged him home.

They were sitting in the lounge in that awkward "who will make the move, let's pretend to sip coffee" stage, when the door opened, and a pissed Jenny fell in. Even pissed, she was still annoyingly hot. She bumbled around for a bit, then left them to it. Ginger Nick was a bit too admiring of her, but it didn't put Evie off. She was just working up the nerve to lunge and stick her tongue back down his throat, when the door burst open again, and Jenny ran back in, skirt up to her neck.

"SEE MY NUNNY! SEE MY NUNNY!!" she demanded, before running off in hysterics, leaving them both speechless. As a mood killer, it was pretty effective. Evie never did get to see any Ginger Cock.

"
( rachelswipe with a fork, Tue 13 Aug 2013, 9:14, 49 replies)

Exposure followed by rapid shrinkage
Years ago I was travelling around Europe with two friends. We were sitting on a park bench in Brno (in the Czech Republic) when I heard a low whistle behind me and turned my head to see a large man in an open trench coat with his erect knob in his hand, wanking and winking at me furiously.

Without a flicker I turned to my friends and hissed: 'don't look now, just grab the camera, there is a man behind me having a wank!'.

Obviously the first thing people do when you tell them not to look is, of course, look, and before the poor man knew what was happening he had three young women staring at him, cackling loudly and hysterically like a set of demented witches, all pointing at the rapidly deflating member that he had been so proud of just mere seconds ago.

He ran off, followed by the echoes of our derisive laughter, his cock still hanging out but no longer quite in the class of a cock or a knob; now it was nothing but a tiny frightened willy desperately trying to shrink its way up into his body.

Unfortunately no photo was taken for posterity.
(snakelady, Mon 12 Aug 2013, 16:53, 4 replies)

Hillside Halls of Residence
When I was at University, for the first year I lived in halls on campus - Hillside in Dundee if you insist. The buildings were identical – toilets, kitchen and showers in a block and (from memory) 9 bedrooms on either side of a long corridor. The campus was split male female with a strict ‘no overnight visitors of the opposite sex’ rule that was of course roundly ignored. One fateful Sunday night, heading back up from Glasgow on the glamour wagon that was the late night Stagecoach, I found myself next to an attractive, curvaceous and very friendly redhead, let’s call her Pauline for that was indeed her name. We got chatting and it quickly transpired we lived on the same campus. The poor lass must have been missing a screw or two or simply felt sorry for me because, well basically by the time we got to Perth I was most definitely ‘in’. When we finally rocked up at her halls I noted how much they differed from my own, the layout and furnishings were absolutely identical yet the place didn’t smell of blokes, weed and overflowing bins. The kitchen and toilets were also remarkably clean however my new bestest friend seemed keen to usher me swiftly past all this to her room at the end of the corridor. Presumably before we were spotted by wandering hall mates. Basically i was being sneaked in. The girly, fragrant Pauline had delightfully fresh bed linen, another novelty – which we duly set about doing our best to sully.

I woke some time around 3am needing a piss. Pauline it seemed was a heavy sleeper and did not stir. No worries I knew my way around. Whether I was being a bit daring, blasé or simply foolhardy I have no idea, but in my infinite wisdom I decided to step out into the dark empty corridor and pad along to the toilets stark bollock naked. On my way back the inevitable happened, a door clicked in front of me, a girl in pyjamas stepped out, saw me, froze, then screamed, leapt back into her room and slammed her door loudly. So, in true pantomime farce style more doors were flung open behind me, more screams, lights were switched on, hysteria set in, threats were made, all whilst I’m standing there butt naked, trapped in the middle of a corridor of screaming girls in assorted nightwear, stammering that it was ok, I wasn’t some pervert intruder I was in fact there with…

Shit. I had forgotten her fucking name.

Have you ever tried to describe a person you barely know whilst naked and being ranted at by half a dozen irate young women? It's a bit stressful. For all the sense I was making, I might as well have been Manuel spluttering 'I here to see girl'.

Naturally this didn’t go down well and more cries of ‘pervert’ and ‘call the police’ were going up. All the while I’m standing there cupping my now pathetically shriveled meat and two whilst pointing frantically over the shoulders of a pair of seething first years towards the door of the girl who I claim to be a guest of, yet cannot even remember her bastard name.

After about 300 years she-who-was-remaining-resolutely-nameless stumbled out of her room, bleary eyed, blinking at the unfolding commotion. Not only did I have to suffer the shame of outing the poor girl as being somewhat easy I then had to explain after sitting next to her on a bus for a couple of hours, working my feeble charm then exploring her most intimate orifices I didn’t even have the gallantry to remember her fucking name.

The relationship did not flourish.

tl:dr charmless Muppet gets caught naked in a girls dormitory at 3am and isn’t even the 13th Duke of Wybourne
( spimf ™ is whoever you want him to be, Mon 12 Aug 2013, 14:08, 12 replies)

So we were in Vegas, and having a jacuzzi together.
Since we were in Vegas, we were drinking a bottle of champagne and smoking. I used the bath-side 'phone to order some more smokes.

A knock on the door indicated their arrival, and I pulled on a dressing gown and answered. I signed the chit, and the young lad stared up at the ceiling determinedly and said "You have a good day now, Sir!", making me realise that I needed to re-fasten my dressing gown belt and cover myself up.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Mon 12 Aug 2013, 11:24, Reply)

Granny batter
I was on a family holiday to Pembrokeshire in about 1988 and we were all larking about on the beach pretending it wasn't fucking freezing. My grandmother had joined us, and had gone for a swim in the sea. As she walked back up the beach towards us, my mother turned to me and said 'Oh I do wish you grandmother would tuck her pubic hair into her swimming costume, don't you, dear?'. I hadn't been looking, until then :o(
( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Mon 12 Aug 2013, 8:12, 9 replies)

We got drunk and mooned some skaters (young punks) i then refused to pull my trousers up for the duration of the walk home.
(shake'n'bake Tally Ho, Biatch!, Sun 11 Aug 2013, 22:23, Reply)

That one with the little naked Vietnamese child running from the napalm attack.

(Frample Tromwibbler climbs an obstacle like old people fuck, Sun 11 Aug 2013, 15:58, 4 replies)

Showing Kate Bush my bush
A few years ago, my mother dropped the bombshell that Kate Bush was moving in next door. Obviously I thought it was a cruel joke, but it transpired that it was the truth. I rode through a lot of hysterical emotions, and on the day she and her family arrived I made myself scarce for fear of hyperventilating. I went out, danced, got drunk, caught the last bus home, stumbled through the forest and passed out in bed.

I awoke, feeling like a fat slug had died in my mouth, to the sound of the doorbell. I had a vague awareness that I had definitely gone to bed wearing something and now wasn't, but that was neither here nor there. I wrapped myself in a sheet and fell downstairs to answer the door, expecting the postman, or anyone but Kate Bush. But it was the latter. My hangover was so pronounced that I didn't really have the capacity to be starstruck, so we had a little chat, very trivial, very pleasant. Then she asked "Are you okay?" which seemed odd. I said that I was a bit hungover, but was fine, the conversation shifted back to the trials of moving house. Then she asked if I wanted to have a walk with her, just down the drive. Still wearing just a sheet, I thought that everything was decidedly odd, but that I couldn't really refuse, so we ambled down my drive. As we neared the bottom of the lane, I suddenly had a very vivid memory of a dream. "Wow, this is weird, I had a dream last night that I lived in some kind of tree village, and I was the queen, and this tree was the base, and it was magical"

"Ah" she said. "Do you sleepwalk?"

"Yes..." I replied, suddenly nervous.

"I ask because last night, around 5am, my husband heard something outside, and when he looked out of the window he saw you, naked, in this tree. I thought you were a fan and panicked, and he was rational about it and said that that didn't make any sense seeing as we'd only moved that day, and we realised you must be the girl next door. So he came out and got you out and walked you back. He said you were talking about Ewoks"

I didn't really know what to say. It's always unnerving, as a sleepwalker, when people tell you what you've done, as it's quite scary to think that you are capable of doing so much without being conscious. So I pulled up the sheet a bit and looked at my legs, which were covered in scratches. Y'know, the kind you get from climbing trees. And then we both laughed, a lot. All I can say is that if you are ever going to meet one of your idols, a bit of naked sleepwalking is a real icebreaker. Plus I can say that Kate Bush saw my bush.
(aerialmeg, Sun 11 Aug 2013, 13:44, 17 replies)

My mind goes back to those brave Australians
that mooned the Olympic torch run on the way to Sydney in 2000.
Did anyone moon or cock salute the torch in 2012?
(the other guy not the one that gave you coochie warts, Sun 11 Aug 2013, 13:10, Reply)