Firstly, I must thank whoever it was that posted a link to this thread in the Sanchez thread in the Transfer Forum yesterday - I have been in tears of laughter at some of the tales in here.
My story doesn’t involve me (thank Christ), but a fella I was at University with back in the 90s. He was a fairly quiet, uncomplicated working class lad, and he was chasing a very sophisticated, well spoken and minted older women who was on the same course. This woman was always immaculately turned out, so they were like chalk and cheese - an unlikely couple.
Anyhow, they ended up going out one night for a chicken curry, and they ended up back at hers - it was her own flat, really nicely done out, rather than the scruffy shared houses the rest of us lived in. One thing led to another, and they ended up in the sack. He was on top of her hard at it when he experienced a minor stomach rumble and his ring gave a bit of a twinge. Understandably (but catastrophically) he decided to ignore it and resumed thrusting. A few seconds later, his arse erupted with such force that shit actually hit the walls of the bedroom (it was later compared to one of those hot water geysers blowing). They were both showered in rancid mud, and needless to say the bedding and carpet took a good spraying. At this point she was screaming, and in a doomed attempt to comfort her, he shouted back ‘it’s the chicken, it’s the chicken’.
He had been expecting to stay over, but you can guess how that one turned out – he helped her to clear the worst of the slurry, had a shower and shuffled off home. Not the sort of experience you want to be reminded of, but he had to face this woman every day at lectures, although to be fair neither of them were too keen to discuss it.