Andy Capp

The Doctors got fed up hearing about my gut problems over the years that they gave it a label called IBS. I now know where every toilet is in the City centre. Good job I did as i was caught short today and dashed to the nearest one only to find out it was out of order. I then had a half mile dash to the next public bog only to find that it must be the annual convention of the IBS society as the queues outside the traps were enormous. The only thing I could do was beat a hasty retreat to some disabled toilets I knew of. There was no one there when I arrived so straight in and to my mighty relief let go of my now aching clenched buttock cheeks (graphic or what!) After the deed had been done I was just about to flush and go (It's like wash and go but smellier) when I heard voices outside the bog. I waited but so did they. So with my best pained expression I opened the door and put on a terrible limp as I walked down the road. Did I feel guilty? Nawwww but strangely the lady walked straight in the toilet and straight out again and she looked mighty green when I looked back. Can't think why....