We're at this swank nightclub in LA. This was many years ago. My buddy, Brandon, and I were in the men's room taking care of business with several unoccupied urinals between us when none other than Boy George and his entourage came in. I was zipping up when George sidled up along side Brandon. Brandon turned and said, "Hey, aren't you Boy George?" Before he could reply, George's friends whisked him outta there. "Geez, what's his problem?" Brandon sez to me. "You mean other than pissing down his leg, haven't a clue."
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