I had them by the other day. Told them I was being treated for mental illness, having a break down, it wasn't a good time, and the voices in my head said their tie was on wrong, and the dude still stood there and gabbed on, this was, mind, at 9pm on a work night, so I am there with hair everywhere, PJs on, and holding back a barking mad dog.

Stig's friends stick nails through their noses. I normally ask if "my life partner can come too" and what they think of lesbians in general, and they leave.