Pull my finger
Everyone knows this, right? Well, not quite everyone. One Sunday morning after a curry, I felt a large evil one brewing; the spicy treat-induced internal gurgling we all know presages a seam-ripping eyebrow-singeing bottom belch. My better ( more sensible ) half was reading the paper, as one does normally: I waited until the thing was baying for release- the wolf was right at the door- and extended my delicate paw, index finger foremost. "Would you do me a favour my love?" I asked, in the tones of one requesting the daintiest of sweetmeats from the cake stand. " Sure, what is it?" she queried, all innocence: I couldn't believe my luck. I had never been presented with such an opportunity, and it was not to be missed. "Pull my finger?" I enquired, sugary-voiced. "What?" she did ask. I replied "I just need you to pull my finger, won't take a sec". So, she reached out ( I remember seeing all this in extreme slow motion, like the crash of the Hindenburg ), grasped my proffered digit and, with a slightly puzzled expression, pulled. The vilest, longest, loudest fart I have ever dropped instantly deafened us both and rattled the transom window. I curled up on the floor crying with laughter, as my hapless other's expression remained fixed in puzzlement. I was lucky I didn't follow through.
( uncle bastard is twanging a dan moi, Sun 20 Sep 2009, 9:00, 1 reply)

My four year old
thinks that "pull my finger" is the single greatest piece of comedy ever invented. I now can't help myself.
(Neddy Nedson is nice really, Mon 21 Sep 2009, 7:15, closed)