Reminds me of this story from one of our very own Scouts @esmufc07Best city in the world...if you take out all the stabby wee neds, the junkies, the racists...etc
After a long night out in Glasgow when I was a more desirable lad and had managed to snag the one chav lassie in the city that still had all her natural teeth left, we capped a night of mental shagging by finishing off her flatmate's bottle of lambrini with some Tizer at 7am. Cut to me sauntering into the train station and realising that Mr Anus was about to do some spring cleaning.
I rushed to the bogs - the kind you need 20p to get access to - panicking as Doctor Dookie was poking his head through the door. Just as I reached the first free stall and fumbled around with the world's worst lock it fell out into my boxers. It must have been acting like a cork because before I could say "oh dear, I appear to have defecated in my pantaloons" I shit myself. And it wasn't normal shit; it was the kind of shit that you have after a night of pile driving a tidy blonde bird whilst your stomach churns away with six pints of snakebite, half a dozen shots of After Shock and half a box of chicken pakora. Suffice to say, it was like the waters that must have flooded Atlantis.
Being the respectable gentleman that I am, I took said skittered shorts and stuffed them behind the toilet that I had finally managed to wiggle my way onto (which by this point was only necessary as a perch so that I could wipe one's bum). Or so I thought.
To cut a long story short. After a following two hours in which I drunkenly wondered why - a) everyone kept laughing at me, and b) why it felt like the smell of shit was following me around, I came to two conclusions.
The first is that you should always check to make sure that the protection granted by the barrier of your undergarments hasn't been breached and made the invaders pass to your jeans. The second is that top quality Glaswegian clunge is so good that you'll fail to realise that one of your shoes has melded with a pair of newly browned Calvin Klein's and refused to release it until you're near Kinghorn station.