I play hardball me.
Years ago, I lived in a teeny tiny place that had an unmanned station. My then girlfriend was supposed to call me from the payphone there (before mobiles it was) when she arrived for a weekend of fun and frolics.
Unfortunately, when she got there, some young scamps had just finished bashing it up and decided that she was next. Cue some jostling and hand bag thievery. Eventually some excellent young man intervened and walked her to mine. Once she'd explained what happened I bundled the excellent young man and my softball bat into my car and speed off to Crowthorne station.

Just before the station is a big grass roundabout, which at that moment had two scallywags titting about in the middle of it. 'That's them' says excellent young man. I park up across the way and with my bat slung over my shoulder cross the road and as nonchalently as my steaming rage will allow me. I wandered onto the roundabout and walk up the the nearest rapscallion. Without saying a word I hit a home run into his knee and then run at his little friend, giving him a hefty wallop too. I'm not a violent chap, so calmed down after I'd hit them both only a few times (hard mind).

I picked up her handbag, demanded their wallets and gave excellent young man a lift home and all the cash that they had on them.

I don't much like hitting people, but I'm a big bastard and hate bullies, so stiff shit.

After all that, she threw a big strop and went back to Bristol. I had a wank and went to bed.

Length? Girth.
(Hampton St.Roker (has probably had your mum), Tue 20 Jun 2006, 17:23, Reply)