When the enemy attacks, build toilets! We will need more for-defecations.
Parisians in an uproar about open air urinals? Eau de humanity!
Gum makes me sneeze. A chew.
Until you catch a whiff of your own farts, you will never have any scents of who you are.
A lynch mob chased after a flatulent Thomas Hardy, an incident which inspired his great novel, Fart From the Madding Crowd.
Sure, I’m overweight and flatulent – but is that so flabber gas sting?
When the President called one of his opponents a “flaming bag of feces” it set off a poo lit ical firestorm.
Anyone who makes fart jokes has a terrible scents of humour.
I love to vomit. It feels heavin’ly.