No idea about wind in the hotel ( sound proof knickers ?) but this thread brought back warm memories of my dads poetry. My dad was a glider pilot during the war and on one particularly terrifying mission they got delayed for 2 days because of weather which left men with their fears. So to distract them he set up a poetry competition about farting which of course he won. His had about 24 verses. We tried to get it written down before he passed away but ran out of time. I have a few written somewhere but know only one off by heart!
Dear Mrs Brown from Stockton on tees
Wore giant purple bloomers that came down to her knees
Upon her turn to deliver her fart
She bent over nicely but mis timed the start !
If HMRC Knocks On Your Door — Say THESE 5 sentences
Are there any current ads that make you laugh?


