Knowing the author to be a shining beacon of male inadequacy with so little about which to brag, that mythical beast ‘the regular reader’ will indulge this one tiny boast.
Not once in my 58 and a half years on this wretched planet have I received a conviction for public indecency.
I might have done, on reflection, had a neighbour grassed me up to the Feds that May evening in 1981 when I streaked 100 yards down the road to wrap my Spurs
