CS gas canisters. Like guns and knives, don't play with 'em
On a wonderfully sunny day not too long ago I took my first ever road trip to Swansea, oh, it was lovely, ice creams and walking on the beach. Positively scrumptious.

As day turned to dusk, we did what any group of 21 year olds would do, we went and got completely spanked in a delightful club called Jumping Jacks (My God, what a place) on cherry WKD (it was on offer, there is no other excuse to drink it, not fit for a scummy man in Scarborough that stuff). On returning to my friends palacial home, we continued drinking and as I had travelled down with my on/off f*ck buddy (wonderful thing that) things were obviously heading in *that* direction so off I toddled upstairs to myself look all sexy and stuff...

He's taking too long, me thinks and I'm starting to get a little agitated. I wonder out of my room to see what the hell is going on and as I descend the stairs my eyes start to burn as does pretty much my WHOLE face and hands. I hear screaming from the bathroom... Man screams... Another one of my friends has locked three of them in a bathroom and let off a CS gas canister. Clever right? They were all in a right old state, goodness me. IT BURNS TO BUGGERY.

Anyhoo, as time passes my FB comes back upstairs to, um, continue what we started. It's getting rather heated (excuse the pun) and his wee hand starts wondering down *there*. Oooh, I think, how spiffy. Ha! Had I spoke to soon? YES.

I start squirming, thinking, My God, he's given me some kind of horrific STD and we haven't even, you know, gone all the way yet. How many people HAS he been shagging. Only then did I stop and think, Oh Sh*t.

Five minutes later I am hopping about the room trying to soothe what feels like a f*cking fire in my lady cup.

Needless to say the mood was somewhat ruined.

You don't know pain until you've had CS gas rubbed into your lady parts, my friends. Death would have been preferable*.

*Slight exageration
(Spoil Me please, oh, please, Fri 14 Jul 2006, 15:47, Reply)