Housemate vs groyne...no, not that kind
the kind of groyne that lines beaches to stop....well, I don't know what they stop and I can't be arsed to look on Wikipedia to find out. Anywho, at a beach in sunny B'mouth myself, my gf-at-the-time Liz,housemate Gareth and housemate Mark went for a spot of frisbee. Mark fancied Liz a fair bit, but being a touch socially retarded couldn't think of anyway to impress her other then leaping onto a groyne post which protruded about 4 feet out of the beach.

After successfully attempting this feat once, Mark was feeling a bit proud of himself. Myself, Gareth and even Liz then managed to show his below-par frisbee skills up putting him in a distant third (or possibly even fourth) in the manliness stakes, meaning he somehow had to manage to re-impress Liz (which incidentally didn't work the first time, but I digress).

So Mark spots the groyne, know full well my balance is worse than a three legged....thing and Gareth is far too lazy to attempt it. So with me, the G and Liz looking on, Mark once more leaps onto the groyne. Only the seawater had lapped over said groyne making it slippery and....groin met groyne in spectacular fashion. Think an upside down y shape. With his plums dead centre. Ouch.

As with any nutsack-related injury Gareth and I, as fellow men, did what all good mates should and pissed ourself laughing. Liz tried to help Mark up from his fetal position, but also collapsed in fits. So poor old Mark had to wander back to the car, clutching his lowers trying to tell us it 'didn't hurt'. Yeah, riiiiiiight....
(tattymuff, Wed 27 Jan 2010, 20:22, Reply)