Help: I think I've got a problem.

[Father Ted]

Taken from the DS forum:

http://www.digitalspy.co.uk/forums/showthread.php?t=911190

"Hi, I'm an eighteen year old male and have just moved to Uni. I share a flat with one other lad and two girls. I would say my flatmates are average looking. Probably about a six or seven out of ten if I was going to rate them. However, last week I noticed that one their dirty laundry bag was in our kitchen area. I don't know why, but I had a sudden urge to have a look what was inside the bag, I spotted a pair of red silk panties, so I picked them up and decided to feel the smooth texture and rub it against my face. I don't know why I did this, and not particularly proud of the fact I did it, but I then proceeded onto have a good sniff of them. I then placed them back in the bag and proceeded to carry on cooking my dinner."


You gotta laugh.

 

[Father Ted]

This all reminds me of an old song by Madness:

IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT:

Nice man George, newsagent on the corner,
Not very rich, but never any poorer,
Jaunty old George, a happy sixty-three,
Not very tall, but healthier than me.
He whistles timeless tunes as he saunters down the street,
Springs in his legs and elastic in his feet.

But in the middle of the night,
He steals through your garden,
Gives your hosiery a fright,
And doesn't say pardon.
As soft as a breeze,
With an arm full of underwear,
On his hands and knees,
Dreams about the knicker scare.

Hello there George, newsagent on the corner,
Hows the old car, yes the climates getting warmer,
Chatty old George as you get your morning paper,
Read about the knicker thief, underwear taker.
Bids you good day, as you wander out the door,
Never closes early, always cleans the floor.

But when darkness hits the town,
And there's washing on your line,
Get your knickers down,
Before the dreaded sign.
When the clock strikes eight,
And youre snuggled up in bed,
Hell be at the garden gate,
Filling underwear with dread.

Nice man George, newsagent on the corner,
He was closed today, maybe gone to mow the lawn,
I had to go further down the road to get me current bun,
Hello - isn't that George on page one ?
No it couldn't be, but yes it is,
Difficult to see from these photofits.

But they are after him,
Of that you can be sure,
They've called him on the phone,
They've knocked on his door.
A-but hes gone away,
Gone to stay with some mates,
He got the papers early,
And saw his own face.

They don't write em like that any more!!