Bad time to be naked.
Due to cleaning up my act for a certain someone, I'm not going to post any stories about me for this QOTW except one, which she already knows about anyway.

Those of you who live in or near Warwick may know of a little place called Widney Manor. You may also know that if you walk out of the station, turn left, go ahead for 200 yards, turn left again and follow the pathway, you find a gaping expanse of fields and long grass and nature. Yes, it's kind of next to a golf course but considering me and said female were coming there from stuffy, busy, godawful Birmingham, just being outside and away from braying morons was a wonderful feeling.

So yeah, we did it in the long grass next to a golf course, and I would lie back in the grass afterwards, jeans round ankles, smile on face, not caring how may creepy crawlies might be all over me.

.....
.......
...oh, and....

*Crack!*

What the hell?

*C-c-c-c-c-crack!*

..The fuck?

I get my head to just above grass level and what I see horrifies me. 3 men, running towards me, all in masks.

With fucking paintball guns.

Now, if I was going to draw up a list of times I do NOT want my master of ceremonies exposed, "around guns of any kind" would be pretty high up the list. For the first time ever, I get my jeans on quicker than I took them off, me and the girl sit up, and it was pretty painfully obvious what we'd been doing.

"Afternoon", I casually say as I walk past, completely forgetting her pants were hanging out of my pocket.
(Tiny Blindfolded Horse Kitten sound car horns would end road rage, Thu 23 Apr 2009, 19:10, 1 reply)

master of ceremonies
consider that phrase well and truly taxed, mate.

Great post, love it.
( SpankyHanky, Fri 24 Apr 2009, 17:18, closed)