Only the other day, I was waiting for the tube at going home time on a Thursday. I was looking good, in my suit and hat - earlier that day I'd been likened to a classy mobster.
I was at King's Cross, and, being an experienced tube-getter, was standing right at the spot where the doors would open, and behind me was a crowd of similarly travel-wise commuters.

All of us were work-weary and silent, reading our papers, reading the adverts on the opposite wall, or staring into space.

I felt a fart coming.

"This is going to be a little naughty one" I thought, "Having been on the beer last night, this is going to be silent, and absolutely deadly". I chuckled to myself as I started thinking about the response and wonder about who dealt it among my fellow strangers.

Ready? Here we go - one cheek slightly higher and ...

PTHTHTHTHTHTHPPPPPPTTTTTTT!!!!!! shouted my arse - people 10 yards away were staring.

I decided not to get the next tube.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Tue 8 Jun 2010, 11:12, Reply)