Toilet Humour.

All this current chat about public loos reminds me of one of my favourite old jokes.


A vicar, new to his parish, finds himself on the other side of his village, busting to use the lavvy.
Deciding that he's not going to make it home, he knocked on the nearest door and asked for directions to a public toilet.
"I really don't know," he was told "but you'd be welcome to use mine, vicar."
"Oh no, I really couldn't," he replied "you see, I suffer from salts."
So he went to the next house, and the next, with the same result each time.
Finally he reached the last house in the road, by which time he was almost at the point of bursting, and knocked on the door. The little old lady who answered, told him that she'd lived in the village for all of her life and that they'd never had a public loo.
"But you'd be more than welcome to use mine." She added.
"I would," said the vicar "but I suffer from salts!"
"Oh I shouldn't worry about that. When you've got to go, you've got to go." She offered.
Deciding that it was that, or fill his pants, he accepted her offer and headed up the stairs toward her loo.
"I'll make us a nice cup of tea, vicar, and see you in a bit."
After about ten minutes, the vicar returned, thanked the old lady for her kindness and sat down to drink his tea.
"While you're drinking your tea, I need to pop off and use the toilet myself." The old lady chipped in.

Upon entering the bathroom, she was astonished to find poo all over the place. It was splattered on the walls, deposited in the sink, bath and on top of the cistern.

When she returned to the kitchen, she asked "what was it that you said you suffered from vicar, salts?"

"Yes," he replied "summer-salts!"