What would you rather do?

Rapist?

Sitting here at Stanstead waiting for a flight to Kuala Lumpur - Melbourne. (emigrating, sorry, forgot to tell you, blog readers.)

I'm listening to the bloke next to me's mobile phone conversation. Young bloke, early twenties, quite articulate, big skinny fella:

"Yeah...welll....what do you want me to do? Hand myself in? Yeah...Hampstead...Ok...Are you going to arrest me...OK, well if that's what you want. I'm in Stanstead....Yeah, there only is one terminal...OK see you soon."

What on earth can he be talking about?

Then he phones his mum:

"Hi mum.....yeah I'm Ok but look...I have to tell you something....I'm about to get arrested. Yeah look last night, yeah, there were loads of us right and we went out....then we went back to Jasmin's...there were loads of us, we were totally smashed and I sort of lay down next to Jasmin....and I rolled on top of her...


"Yeah, she's made a complaint. Sex. Yeah sex mum. She's made a formal complaint. I'm going to face the music. I'm off to the station now. I've lain down next to her loads of times and if she didn't want anything to happen she would have said..."

(yeah right mate)

"Anyway my defence is that we were all totally smashed.....Kevin? Yeah he knows, he's alright. He's a mate from work..."

And then he got up and walked off, presumably to face the music.

I'm on Jasmin's side, like.