right, on this fine saturday morning i decided i would bring up a subject very close to my heart. as a single squaddie, being of good physical fitness, chiselled features, and the prowess a lion would be proud of, i routinely engage in the army wide passtime of drinking till i spew, and then making a well planned and tactical move on the best looking girl who is no longer able to keep both eyes open and is usually in the corner talking to the 'token old guy' in the bar. after engaging in a conversation where we both are unable to hear, and often are not even remotely on the same subject, i of course assert my position of 'alpha male' by communicating i wish to make her my mate by writing 'i want to do you behind the kebab shop' in whatever local bar snack is available on the bar. after being invited back to the abode of said fair mayden, i of course engage in combat with the beautiful part of said female that resembles a kebab that has been runover by some sort of industrial frieght train. up until now, i hear you saying 'this is both normal, and to be encouraged' now once said deed is over, and several minutes of loving that ron jeremy would be proud of, it comes time for me to disappear into the night with a slightly mysterious air, walking away like the end of a bad 50's movie. of course, i cannot leave unaccompanied, that would be not fitting for a gentleman of my social standing. at first, something small was enough. a book, a photo, something easily concealed, and not missed. over time this has escalated. my stash of trophies now includes kettles, plants, the odd birthday and christmas card. i put it to the immense wisdom of arrse, and ask those more experienced in this art, to share their secrets. every gentleman has done it, now lets hear it.