Being A Streaker
6/6/96-8/6/96
6 June 1996 - BEING A STREAKER
I've paraded nude at another high-profile sporting event: The Ashes (a game of cricket).
Wearing only a pair of flesh-coloured gauntlets I sauntered up to the stumps and winked at the umpire.
It wasn't long before the wicket-keeper was angrily bumping against me, and pushing at my face with his chin. I started to wander off, but the bowler threw a handful of badges at me, rendering me unstable.
When I asked him if he was OK, his jaw came away in my hands.
7 June 1996 - BEING A STREAKER
Last night I jumped around nude by the poolside during the synchronised swimming final at the 1984 LA Olympics.
One of the judges gave me the thumbs-up as I cannoned into his booth, and a couple of the swimmers shouted out that they thought I looked great.
After two hours I was hyper-ventilating so badly that I thought the crowd were horses at my own funeral.
8 June 1996 - BEING A STREAKER
Last night I created an almighty stink at the 1976 Highland Games when I rode nude onto the stage on a stag.
At first the competitors thought I was Taggart, and gave me a polite round of applause, but when I crashed the stag into a display of black puddings they became restless and disorder broke out.
At the peak of the disturbances, I bade them a fond farewell and rode back into the forest.
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