I nearly hurt my rude bits
A few years ago, I was on tour with a chamber orchestra in Spain. One of the biggest differences between Spain and the UK is its low population density. You can drive literally for hours without coming across another living soul. In areas where there are few living souls, there also tend to be few toilet facilities.

An hour into the journey, my bladder began protesting slightly. Never mind, I thought, we’re bound to have a pit stop sooner or later. An hour later, I was rather uncomfortable. No service stations, gas stations or even just holes in the ground had materialised for the whole of the time we’d been driving. I was getting desperate. We agreed that we would stop at the next available bush.

That’s another thing about Spain. Owing to the relatively dry climate, bushes are few and far between. We drove and drove for what seemed like hours (it was probably only about twenty minutes). I was in complete agony.

Finally, bless the sainted heavens above, a bush appeared! It was large and leafy and perfect. I leaped out of the minibus and scampered over to the bush. I squatted on the ground and began relieving myself. I closed my eyes and grinned as the profound sense of calm that can be achieved only by emptying one’s bladder after a long period of time washed over me.

But wait – what was that buzzing sound? It was an angry sort of sound, rapidly increasing in volume, and seemed to be emanating from just below my lady parts. Yep, I was pissing on a hornets’ nest.

I leapt up, ran like the wind back to the minibus with these irate insects following me, dived in whilst still pulling my pants up screaming GO! GO! GO! at the driver and slamming the door, leaving a swarm of soggy and extremely angry hornets in my wake.

I am officially a legend.
(grandmasterfluffles Come to my Armageddon party on, Mon 17 Jul 2006, 12:20, Reply)