Flatmate tales
One of my flatmates at uni was gay (will call him H cos he's now a rozzer, go figure). Our rooms were next to each other so did hear much more than I really needed to, but at the same time it was probably just as bad the other way round so was never too fussed about it.

There were two stories about H which i'll always remember.

1. The time he went to a party, was chatting up this guy he thought was straight (more for kicks than anything) and then woke up 6 hours later to find the same bloke going at it hammer and tongs. Turned out he'd Rohypnoled (sp?) him!!! What was TMI was that far from being pissed off H decided that he actually quite fancied the bloke and let him get on with it. Not really what you want to hear on a Sunday morning.

2. H lived in London and to make a bit of extra cash in the holidays decided to perform erm... favours for rich middle-aged closet city types. Telling us this with so little shame was bad enough, but he also told the story about how one time he went to this hotel room to be greeted by a 40 something bloke in an expensive suit. The guy then handed him suspenders, bra, high heels, the whole shabang and told him to put them on. H then walked up and down the room in front of this bloke who just sat, fully clothed, watching him - not even touching himself. After exactly one hour the guy gets up, says thank you, and paid him.

Having already managed to alienate most of the pub during the telling of this story the icing on the cake came when an obviously pissed off H finished it by saying
"and the worst part was I didn't even get any cock action!!!"

I still love you mate, but Christ...
(Milo Minderbinder, Fri 7 Sep 2007, 10:11, Reply)