It’s drawing closer and I’ve accepted the fact that I’m still quite immature when it comes to my sense of humour. Sophisticated I am not. I will still, at the age of 29 (not officially 30 yet folks!) laugh for hours upon hours about anything toilet related. Farts, piss and poo. I’m actually tickled as I write that sentence, chuckling away to myself because I mentioned the word poo.
One.
Calling in sick? Say you’ve got the runs – nobody asks questions and they won’t want you in for fear of it catching, resulting in the entire floor cramping over in pain and shitting themselves on the carpet.
Two.
Need to get off the phone? “Listen, I’ve gotta go, I need a poo!” That friend who’s been whining for an hour and a half will be off the line in a shot leaving you to relax and keep up with The Kardashians.
Three.
Getting weighed in at your slimming group of choice and they clock you’ve gained a pound? Simply retort with “I haven’t done a poo today though…” They’ll understand completely, suggest you eat some prunes and be none the wiser to your mid-week binge at Nandos.
