One news years eve I headed up from London to a party in Liverpool. There were a lot of people there and I managed to catch the eye of a young, beautiful girl who lived locally. We chatted for a good while during the evening and at the end of the night we exchanged phone numbers and vowed to meet again. A few months later I got a text. The girl I had met in Liverpool was going to be in London working and wanted to meet up. Keen to impress I tidied my room, changed my sheets and put on a clean shirt before leaving my flat to go and meet her. The evening went very well and conversation flowed easily between us over glasses of wine. We laughed, we joked and we kissed and at the end of the evening we headed back to my place to continue the romance. In the bedroom things got off to a great start as we kissed and undressed. Caught up in the throws of passion, however, I had initially failed to notice the pools of blood that were forming all over myself, the bed and my new found lady friend... Suddenly... a shriek. I looked up and too my horror there before me lay my date covered in blood, "It's not mine" she said... and sure enough she was right it was my blood... and it was everywhere. Somehow in the heat of the moment my blood pressure had risen to such an extent that it had forced a number a blood vessels in my nose to explode resulting in a torrent of hemoglobin to project from both nostrils all over myself, my bed and my new found love interest turning our little love nest in to something forensics may expect to find at the scene of a violent murder. Much to my amazement the girl in question was very understanding and managed to draw humour as oppose to revulsion from the situation. Something I'll always admire as a strength of her amazing character. Meanwhile, my embarrassment continues to fade.