I've been the purveyor of surprise nudity...
... although in my defense I was just as surprised to discover that I was naked.

It's a lovely Saturday morning and I've woken up with the pleasant ever-so-slightly hungover sensation only blemished by the accompanying extremely dry mouth due to the visitation of the red wine badgers in the night. I decide that the best course of action is to get up and go and get a drink, so that is exactly what I do. Straight out of bed and downstairs to the kitchen.

Now, at this point I should stress that I sleep in my underwear unless there are extenuating circumstances; I just feel much more comfortable with my underwear holding everything in place. There were no such circumstances that night, I'd gone to bed alone (AUDIENCE: awwwww).

So out of bed, down the steep set of stairs from my room in the converted loft and down the main stairs in to the kitchen. As I descended the stairs though my brain started to receive and process strange information. "Things are not as expected" the impulses said. "You should investigate what is occurring that is outside the norm." Somewhat perturbed by this, I conclude that the best course of action is to continue to the kitchen and make myself a refreshing glass of squash, and use my newly hydrated state to think further about what could be wrong.

I was literally confronted by what was wrong as I looked down towards the cupboard containing the squash only to see my pump action yogurt cannon in full on morning horn mode pointing towards the bottles of Robinson's like some sort of meat-based divination rod.

My first thought was quite literally "where are my pants?!"

After processing the situation further my brain switches to thinking "oh cock, I am stranded downstairs naked & hard, and I have visitors in the house this weekend" (hence the red wine). I decided to carry on with Operation: Squash, and took the moment to compose myself. "It's fine, it's 8am on a Saturday morning and everyone is still asleep, just go back up to bed and no-one will know". Great idea.

Except that my hungover staggering down two flights of stairs had roused my (straight, male) housemate who managed to time his exit from his bedroom at just the right moment to see me at the top of the stairs supporting myself on the bannister with one hand, holding a pint of apple and blackcurrant in the other but still managing to point at him.

His response: a look as though to say "I don't want you to explain this; just fix it" and the despairing comment "oh for fuck sake Joe put some clothes on!".

I mumbled an apology and carried on going back upstairs, but as slowly as I could to avoid any meatspin style effects.
(Joey[kins], Fri 29 May 2009, 15:00, 1 reply)

"but still managing to point at him"
too funny.
( flirting with badgers What? It sounded good at the time., Tue 2 Jun 2009, 6:38, closed)