Just over a year ago
I was at drinking straight gin for some reason when my memory went. By all accounts I started talking to this girl and within the hour had dragged her back to mine to have my wicked way with her (I'm quite classy when drunk).

Around the undressing stage my memory had started to return and I was wondering how on Earth I'd gotten myself in this situation. In my mind there were a few questions that needed answered, firstly, who the Hell was this person in their underwear that I was groping.

I asked her name. She looked rather annoyed and replied in a rather husky voice with what sounded like "Brian".

Cue panic attack.

Turns out she said Bryony but I still shat myself something chronic for a minute until she clarified that she wasn't a guy. She went on to attempt rather painfully to suck my testes off.

We now pretend not to recognise each other if we pass in the street.
( Raindance Work is inversely proportional to post-count, Sat 16 Jun 2007, 17:39, Reply)