Football.
Myself and my football team in Aberystwyth were having a casual training session over on one of the greens near the uni, when one of us came across a (what we thought was) dead bird.
Closer inspection confirmed that this bird was still alive, so being about 10-12 uni footballers, we amazingly pooled our minds resources and decided to think of the kindest way to put it out of its misery.
Enter my friend Joe.
He proceeded to stamp on said bird.
Note that this was not your average stamp - there was enough force behind it to send pieces of destroyed bird flying in the general direction of anyone that was unfortunate enough to be standing by.
Now this was horrific enough in itself, it made the rest of training very uneasy and no-one could concentrate.
However, what extracted the urine (and eventually, and more literally the vomit) was when I was back in my flat, just about to get into the shower, and i discovered that a flicker of bloody bird flesh had flung itself at me with such force that it had become embedded in my hair.
Joe did not live that down, for a very long time. The bastard.
(I R Tomsk pyromaniacs will only inflame the situation, Mon 25 Jun 2007, 22:27, Reply)