If there's grass on the wicket...

...let's play cricket!

I have no idea what that means but it doesn't make much sense to me.

My old PE teacher was psychotic about people going anywhere near the cricket square. Aggressive fella. Me bird at the time went to the school next door. He strolled past and she declared out loud "isn't he a weird shape". Everyone around laughed and he could do nothing as she was not under his jurisdiction. At lunchtime I went back to hers and she jerked me off while listening to Linger by the Cranberries. I got spume all over the front of me trousers and had to carry a jacket around with me on a bastard hot day to cover the mess.

Where was I?

Oh yeah the PE teacher, who became known as Sexual Chocolate, had us do a run one morning and obviously he got back first, had a shower and walked out of the building naked to await our return. For some reason he touched his toes so everyone got to see everything - well except me as I'd taken a detour to get jerked off, she only lived 5 minutes away.

Anyway one drunken night a few of us went back to the cricket square and had a synchronised piss all over it, calling it a crossfire. I believe we'd practised this in the rather smaller confines of a kebab shop toilet at one point. Fuck knows why. Perhaps a hidden desire to "legitimately" check out each other's Hamptons. I definitely didn't look though. Not even half of once.

And next up, Terence Trent D'Arby!