Alright, I’ll confess up front, but I love a bit of ‘toilet humour’. Nothing gets me laughing louder and I’ve been meaning for weeks to post something from a book I’ve been reading, called “In the Nick of Time” which is a recollection of UK policing in the seventies. But I actually had a horror incident myself this morning when I got badly caught short in my van on the way to work. I’ve been a bit clogged up, so to speak, for the past few days so I took what was advertised as a gentle laxative last night. Gentle! They have got to be joking. I had a major eruption when I got up and thought that had sorted it but not even half way to work, I realised another one was brewing. I was in a right panic as I hit major traffic on the M25 and by the time I reached the Chertsey turn-off I was beyond desperate and almost standing up in the driver’s seat trying to contain myself. I was almost resigned to doing something I haven’t done before in my adult life when I finally got off the motorway and headed to a supermarket. Fortunately they had toilets that were open otherwise it would have been game over. I’m not sure whether to write a letter of apology to the store cleaners but the sensation as I finished the journey to work was one of ecstasy. I daren't say this to my missus but I felt like I’d given birth! I could hardly stop chuckling to myself that I’d actually made it. Those laxatives were murderous and need to come with a serious health warning. I had a couple more blow-outs during the day at work, too. Anyway, back to the “In the Nick of Time” book. There’s a really funny story in there about a young copper who goes out on foot patrol complaining of having a dodgy stomach. You can guess what happens to him in the end but the pitiful radio call out in the street, “Sarge, I’ve **** myself!” paints a very amusing picture. My own experience was embarrassing but the circumstances were nowhere near as bad as the policeman’s. So, where’s the worst place you’ve been caught short?