When you've spent too much time dancing at a rave and your ankles don't work right.
I was out at a psytrance night last night and got a bit of scouse foot
Act of being buggered by someone dressed in a nazi uniform, usually unexpectedly, but then you start to enjoy it a little bit.
The missus got a strap on and a new hat for a bit of luftwaffe love, surprisingly entertaining on a sunday afternoon (before dinner).