Right!
A female friend who was a bit of a practical joker once put her freshly-worn brassiere in a stew I was cooking, fishing it out before I noticed. Not surprisingly, she declined the stew and awaited events.
About an hour later I had the familiar gurglings and general downward pressure that required evacuation. IMMEDIATE evacuation. As I rushed to the bog, griping guts bending me double, she started laughing and hooted after my bogwards-scuttling self "You know what you've got!"




Wait for it.







"Bra-stewed colic!!"

Out-convolute THAT fucker, Pooflake!!
(Captain Placid High, wide and handsome, Tue 29 Jan 2008, 12:55, closed)

You can't see me
So I'll decribe it for you.

I am pulling a mong face at you.
(Spokes was pretending to work hard on, Tue 29 Jan 2008, 12:57, closed)

Oh, the pain...
I'm going to treat this as an open challenge, but have to think about how to respond.

Oh: I know. I amused some free bees.
( Enzyme is in ur [noun]z, [verb]in' ur [noun]z, Tue 29 Jan 2008, 13:01, closed)

!
Ban This Sick Filth Now!

and other such anguished howls of outrage.
( crackhouseceilidhband - "refreshing and logical", Tue 29 Jan 2008, 13:08, closed)

Oh no!!
I feel a pun-off coming on.....
( big-girl's-blouse owns far too much fleece, Tue 29 Jan 2008, 13:08, closed)

You started me off....

You've started 'sir' off!!

Go and stand in the naughty corner and think about what you've done...

Whilst I think of even crapper ones...

Where's Apeloverage when you need him?
( Pooflake , for imsomniacs who don't respond to strong drugs, Tue 29 Jan 2008, 13:46, closed)