Re: Ah the memories...
A friend of mine turned up to the pub on crutches with his ankle in plaster. He's a strapping lad from the grim frozen North (well Lancashire, it's ooop North to me). Works out, hard-drinking, no-nonsense type of chap.
So how did you get injured?
Turns out he was fleeing in terror from a 4'10" Kiwi nurse with amorous intentions - who'd taken a fancy to him at previous visits to the pub.
I have to admit we may have been less than sympathetic to his plight. I think I'd describe her as scarily determined...
Biting the hand that feeds IT
