Your inner child

OK, how deep do I have to dig to find it? Mine was revived by my friends' younger brothers who wanted me to keep them entertained with rude words. By the end of day one I was back laughing at them myself and that never left me after that.
The inner child can be accessed directly via the toilet. Not funny, you say? How hard do I have to work to get a squeak or titter from what made me laugh at primary school?
Wiping my nose on my sleeve? Dog's business? Horse apples? This was a competition we had when going to or from parties to see who could make me laugh first. And I was about 20 at the time. Sound and word, the rude word and the rude noise. Drop one, pass wind, blow off, all the same thing but so many ways to say it, depending if child, parent or rugby player. Have you done a windy? was the favourite in my household, and still one of my favourites. Made a smell is also a classic, polite but directly descriptive. All this flows like sewage from my fingertips.

Having just had another birthday the quantity and quality of poo-related cards shows my fascination must be universal. William Henry Smith's emporium has the best selection of faeces themed cards I've ever come across, and have been known to stand there reading the cards just for a laugh. One favourite is the fish with bubbles coming from it's arse and his wife saying 'come on, we all know it was you'. And though fish do fart I just read it's normally contained in bubbles in the poo so we rarely see it happen in tanks. I don't think I can think of anyone better than Ben Elton at his peak for turd and fart jokes, I used to memorise many routines to give myself a laugh at any time. 'The turd was so high there was snow on the top', for instance, relating to the inverse dog size-turd size equation, combined with the new shoes-poo homing device formula. Maths can be fun when the right examples are chosen.

Bogies, skid marks, wet farts, anal tags, nature made them and I remind people of them at every possible opportunity. You can't pretend they aren't there, under every expensive pair of underwear lie the same hidden treasure. Sooner or later. If the queen in her annual speech started talking about how embarrassed she was when she let one rip with Tony Blair, or how she's so lucky she didn't have piles like her late mother. And how she can't stop Andrew picking his nose at 47. He may have fought for his country but can't keep his finger out of his nostrils. And the news- can you picture Trevor MacDonald saying I'm finding it hard to concentrate, I've got a huge erection? Natasha Kaplinsky admitting to stress incontinence after a stray sneeze? Believe me, they all do it but do they share it with us? No, but they would be loved if they did. The weather- it may be cold out there but it's hot in my underpants.
This may be exclusively British and male humour, I'm not sure what they think about droppings and dung in Germany or Russia but being in touch with the whole world it is my duty to spread that theme as far and wide as possible. You know it makes wind. Case closed.