In the pub
I was drinking in a fairly nice pub in Manchester. When it was my round, I went the bar and ended up stood next to two horrible looking blokes - you know the type: would probably list their job as "security consultants", steroid-pumped muscles, too much jewelry, all that... sucessful drug-dealers, basically.

I was trying to shuffle away from them a little, lest I be accused of looking at their pint or spilling their bird or something, when their conversation took a slightly strange turn. I'm going to paraphrase a little here, but this was the gist:
1: I think Dave might be gay
2: Dave who? OUr Dave? No way?
1: Yeah, our Dave. I really think he is?
2: What the fuck makes you say that?
1: Well, we were out on the lash the other night and we pulled some student bird. We took her back to my place and we were splitting her, like. I was giving her a good piping when Dave suddenly stuck his cock up my arse
2: Fucking hell!
1: Yeah...
2: What did you do then?
1: Well, I kinda liked it...

I made a hasty exit at that point.
(ScousersPet, Tue 30 Aug 2011, 9:31, 3 replies)

i'm sensing a theme developing here

(benito vaselini no not that one, Tue 30 Aug 2011, 9:38, closed)

Yeah,
someone in Liverpool's currently typing QOTW answers one-handed.
( Tab Hunter Make this useless process end and so, begin again, Tue 30 Aug 2011, 9:51, closed)

No
It's the Middle East where they cut thieves' hands off
(Rsoles, Tue 30 Aug 2011, 22:55, closed)