Can I suggest one of these H,
Holy Sh*t Steve!
So that's what you get up to in the garden shed during those long winter nights, I'd recognize those beady eyes anywhere.
It lacks a gimp mask, but I still reckon it would go down a treat at Sunday morning Mass, stepping into the confessional in one of those and clearing your throat would strike fear into the heart of any Man of God. I see the front zipper is corrosion proof, a wise move, but the lack of a zippered patch at the rear has got me worried. How many movements do you reckon would fit in there before it started to leak out from around the adjustable spray shield around the face?
Talking about movements, did anyone share the same experience as me in the squatters at LM this year? I don't know if it was the diet or the weather, or, God forbid, the company, but I remember slipping into one in an initially buoyant frame of mind on Sunday morning. You know how it is, you drop your shorts and assume the position and start straining. What followed was a new one on me, there wasn't really much action at first, then the gattling gunning started, armour piercing ball bearings shooting out at rapid, though uneven intervals and richocheting around the cubicle, I could have done with some safety goggles and was lucky to get away with a couple of small nicks. By now, you're getting a little knackered, and your legs are starting to shake so you try and compensate by taking your hands of your knees and pressing them to (the very near) walls. Sweat beads are forming on your brow. The bullets must have been a "plug", as the real action now started, and images of Boscombe Bay came to mind, and if there'd been a Post Office nearby, it would have been swept away. I can confirm that removing your shorts completely is a good idea, as is training up your thigh muscles, I was shaking like a leaf and grimacing like a monkey in a NASA centrifuge by then, and any thoughts of clearing up just weren't entertained.
And yet, you, or at least I, manage to exit the cubicle, not looking good, but with a straight face, nod to the next guy in the queue and say "it's all yours, mate"
Hours of endless fun, ones toilet.
H
