I recall, not so long ago, being out of a night. I was telling a story, to a mixed crowd, that happened to my brother in the Belfast branch of Wetherspoons. He came down the stairs, pale as a sheet. I asked him what had happened. He was in the toilets, using the urinal, when a fella came up to the urinal beside him.

'Here, mate!' the randomer said. 'Have you ever shat in yer bird's mouth? It's fuckin' great!'

I mean, how do you respond to that? Feeling Sinister does not approve of coprophila. I don't even know if that's how it's spelt, but I'm not going to check on google. I can happily leave the whole bodily fluid thing to the Germans.

My brother, to his credit, said, 'nah' and moved on. But as I told this story someone went to say something, then decided not to. I noticed and pulled him up on it.

'I know what you were going to say.'

'Who?'

I whispered into his ear. It was someone, who I didn't know he knew, who turned out to be into, 'tarmaccing'. We had a wee giggle, small world and all that stuff. But it got me to thinking.

I have nothing but admiration for those who put full face pictures up here. I don't think I can right now. I'm not even sure this site is for me. But in the same way, I can't help but think, there are pubs, there are rooms where, over a bottle of wine or three girls compare notes. And, if they do, then the consensus is going to be that I'm a pervy, dark fella, who loves the dirty talk.