| | | Something really bugs me about the adult diapers aspect of that story. OK, she didn't want to have to stop for a piss. But she was driving nine hundred fucking miles. Surely she'd have had to stop at least a couple of times for petrol anyway?
Stoatie, your male is showing. If you're a boy, piss = go behind a hedge, unzip, ahhhh load off my mind, zip up again, off on yr Murder Quest again, all accomplished while some chappie fills yr tank up with unleaded.
If you're a girl, piss = queue up behind 9 people, one loo is blocked the other doesn't lock, lower garments must be dropped to half-mast, hover hover over the filthy seat, hope no-one tries to come in, shit no bog roll, must have a tissue here somewhere, replace lower garments, exit half an hour later, half a mile down the road realise your keys/purse/mobile/spare ammo for air rifle has fallen out of your jeans and you'll need to go back. |
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