Thanks to Will Fitzpatrick for this...although he claims he's not the protagonist - he simply found the story on a message board...hmmmmm *strokes chin*.
"Back when I was about 19-20, I'd had a storming case of the wildies for a couple of days. One Sunday afternoon, my mates persuaded me to go for a pint against all logical and medical advice. We'd had a fair few pints by about 3 o' clock, and being young and foolish, I decided to show off. Bad move. As we entered a pub filled with families having a sedate Sunday lunch, I did a handstand, farted, and bellowed 'Shoot that duck!' at the top of my voice. Much mirth ensued as my mate belted me in the nackers and I fell onto my back, violently shitting myself in the process.
I will never be able to live down the shame of a young lad and his dad seeing me wearing a toilet paper kilt and washing my dirty undies in the sink of the pub's toilets."
