The Queen's Poo
Right, I heard this story off a friend of mine who swears it's true, though I reckon it's a blatant urban legend.

Apparently my friend's friend was in the Navy when the Queen decided to pop onto the boat he was working on for a nose about. Now as we all know Her Maj has to have a special toilet should she need to answer the call of nature which no-one else is allowed to use. My friend's friend was given the job of preparing this particular creper, and did what we would all do under the circumstances: unscrewed the pipe and inserted a stocking in order to catch a royal mudshark.

Queenie came, and duly Queenie went. And then left. Returning to his post, friend-of-friend discovered he had been successful. The Queen's movement was successfully extracted, dried out, varnished and allegedly takes pride of place on f-o-f's mantlepiece...

My nearest brush with Her Vagesty was on the Strand (where I work). I was halfway across the road when a troupe of old bill on motorbikes cut off all the traffic. Duly, a moment later Phil and Liz were driven right past me in one of their official Bentleys. 'Twas quite odd to see such an icon at such close quarters (less than 6 feet away) even for a diehard republican like myself.

Perhaps I should have told her that my friend's friend possesses her turd. But you lot will have to do instead (unless she reads B3TA of course)

HUGE cock.
(keeferreefer, Fri 4 Aug 2006, 16:42, Reply)