» Unexpected Nudity

I can never forget

It was a hot and humid day in August 2003. I was travelling to work without a care in the world. To get to work I had to walk along King Street in Hammersmith - a most unpleasant street frequented by drunks and chavs.

As I was strolling along, idly daydreaming, I became suddenly aware of a terrible odour. The smell was a combination of piss, shit and vomit with the unmistakable overtones of Tenants super strength.

Looking around me to discover the source of this most obnoxious smell, my eyes fell open a woman. She was probably in her 50s and has obviously been living on the street for around 49 years. She was dressed in rags that were caked in what was undoubtedly excrement.

Catching my eye she smiled, and then did something that will haunt my dreams the rest of my years. Still holding my gaze she crouched down and gathered her skirt in her hands.

She then let forth a torrent of piss - a gushing stream of urine like a horse on diuretics splashed on the pavement - all flowing from her vagina, her shit smeared vagina that resembled a dirty, badly plucked chicken that had been attacked by an axe. And all the time she held my eye and carried on smiling.

After what felt like an eternity I managed to drag my eyes away from this living nightmare and ran away.

When I got to work I had a wank in the toilets, obviously.
(Fri 29th May 2009, 10:09, More)

» Stupid Colleagues

I didn't know he was a musician...
The date was 31st August 2004 and I was having lunch with my boss, an intelligent and well respected professional.

The footballing granny-admirer, Wayne Rooney had just joined Manchester United from Everton in a big money deal, in fact I think it was an unprecedented valuation for such a young player.

Halfway through lunch my boss says:

"I didn't know Wayne Rooney was a musician as well as a footballer"

"He isn't"

"Yes he is, I just saw a newspaper headline which said 'Rooney Signs Record Deal'"

"...."

That is all.
(Tue 8th Mar 2011, 18:00, More)

» Festivals

Bestival 2008

As I am sure many of you are aware going to the toilet at a festival in the middle of the night can be an ardous journey, mainly involving tripping over guy ropes.

To solve this problem my friend Matt had come up with a genius solution - a funnel, a pipe and an empty plastic bottle. He was very proud of himself.

First night we all got very drunk, as you do, and then all retired to bed. Matt actively looking forward to putting his peeing device into action.

At what must have been around 4am - I was awoken by screams from Matt's Girlfriend - she seemed very angry. I went back to sleep.

The next morning we all awoke to find Matt looking very sheepish.

Matt then explained what had happened. He had woken up still quite drunk and wanting a piss, he was very excited about his peeing device so placed his penis in the funnel and then urinated - copiusly.

It was only when his girlfriend started screaming did it slowly dawn on him what was happening, but by then it was far too late.

Matt had forgotten to put the other end of the plastic tube in the bottle creating what was essentially a urine hose pipe within the confines of a tent.

Scarmbling to try and get the open end of the pipe into the bottkle only made thigs worse as he directed the stream of pisss in every single direction but the right one. He soaked his girlfriend, both their sleeping bags and all their clothes with his piss before he finished.

He was not popular and their tent smelled vaguely of piss for the rest of the festival.

(The next day a man ran into our tent at full speed and fell on me in the middle of the night - it almost gave me a heart attack and detroyed the tent - not happy)
(Fri 5th Jun 2009, 18:42, More)

» Famous people I hate

Micheal McIntyre
I once spent a day filming with Michael McIntyre before he was famous.

He was very nice.

That is all.
(Fri 5th Feb 2010, 15:36, More)

» Real-life slapstick

Near Miss
Second year of university and I wasn't having much success with women. However every now and then one of them would lower their standards enough to sleep with me and this was going to be one of those night; or so I thought.

I was in a night club with my flat mates getting slowly drunk, when one of my group introduced me to a friend of his, she was a she, she was pretty, and she seemed to like me - life rarely gets better than this.

So we got to talking, and then we got to kissing, and then it was time to go home; and when I suggested she might like to come home with me she agreed - brilliant - I was going to have sex for the third time that year!

I was very, very excited, so excited indeed, that as I got into the taxi that was going to whisk us away to all types of carnal pleasures I misjudged the size of the taxi door. Crack, I hit the door frame with the top of my head hard, very hard. A little dazed, but feeling Okish, I put a brave face on it, nothing was going to stand in my way tonight.

However half way home, I smile at her and she looks back with a look of shock, I put my hand to my head - it is wet, and on closer inspection red - I was bleeding, "It's Ok" I say "It's nothing"

But it's not nothing; I am now bleeding a lot - a waterfall of blood is dripping down my face and obscuring my vision. She suggests that she should just go home and that I should go to hospital, but desperately I beg her to come back with me and that I would be Ok.

As the taxi pulls up to my house I get out feeling a little light headed. As I exit the cab, I turn around, the door slams shut and the Taxi roars off, with my sex for the night inside.

No rampant coupling for Mr Hungry tonight and I never saw her again (I suspect she studiously avoided me for the next two years - fair enough really).

The bleeding stopped 5 minutes later too - we totally could have had sex, damn it.
(Thu 21st Jan 2010, 16:41, More)