"I went out on Saturday night and met this guy. We clicked somehow, I liked him. We flirted, and by the end of the night we were together. I don't usually do this, but I went home with him. We had a great night, and I didn't regret going back to his because I really liked him and didn't think of it as a one night stand. I had to go into work on the Sunday, early, so I got up before he woke up. I went into his bathroom to get ready to leave, and I needed the toilet. Like, um, a, you know, number two. So I, um, went. But the thing was, I quickly discovered that the toilet wouldn't flush. I kept trying but it wouldn't. And it had started to smell. Really, really bad.
I kept trying to flush it, but it just wouldn't.
So I started to panic.
I couldn't face just leaving it there, stinking. I just couldn't. So I found a plastic bag that was lying there and, well, scooped it. I wrapped it in toilet roll, planning to get rid of it on my way home. So I made to exit, quickly.
I thought I'd just write a little note for him, so I found a bit of paper on the kitchen table and wrote a note, just saying I had a great time, I'd love to see you again soon, here's my number. I signed it with a kiss and left the house.
I was halfway home before I realised that I'd left the bag on the table. Next to the note."
:rotflmao: :rotflmao: :rotflmao: :rotflmao: 
:? :? :? :? :? :? :? :? 
