Nearly, but not quite, a Thursday vote-o

Nearly, but not quite, a Thursday vote-o

If there is one lesson from life that I have consistantly failed to learn, it is this:

* Remember to proof-read your blog posts, because you cannot spel for toffee, chiz chiz, because you will spend much of the following day receiving emails from people complaining about your awful spelling and grammar

I have, however, never received any complaints regarding my diction. Eh? Eh? Right.

In fact, this is not the lesson. The real, far more important lesson, which might, one day, have fatal consequences is this:

* For the love of buggery, remember to pull your trousers up BEFORE you flush the toilet

This dreadful going-to-the-toilet-in-the-wrong-order problem manifested itself once again yesterday, much to my horror, and of those in the neighbouring cubicles.

The release of several pounds of pungent nutty slack into the care of Thames Water confused me sufficiently to flush the lav mere micro-seconds before I bent over to - as they say in the most polite of circles - adjust my dress.

Result: A faceful. I will never learn.

The screams were sadly mistaken for the fire alarm, and that's never a good thing.

One day, I will do this whilst breathing in paticularly sharply and will undoubtedly receive enough crap-poisoning to finish me off for good. I will be found, face down in my own waste products, killed entirely to death by the undigested portion of a Ginsters Pasty.

It is surprisingly difficult to purchase insurance against such an eventuality, but those nice people at Norwich Union sold me a gimp mask to wear whenever I need to use a public toilet. Nothing at all can go wrong.

But enough of my bottom! I suppose you'll be wanting a Thursday vote-o.

Well, tough.

I've been too damn lazy, and too damn poisoned by doneing a poo to write anything this week, so you will mostly choosing from the following:

* I was a teenage bomber, part the second: A not untrue story of one lad's attempts to torch rural Berkshire back into the Dark Ages.

Instead, and after last week's total and utter triumph, I ask you for your words, phrases or sayings that I may add to the tale to enhance it for your reading pleasure.

Degree of difficulty: Ann Noreen Widdecombe does not appear in the story.

Get in there!