Trump (v) to pass wind, to flatulate, to emit digestive gases from the anus, especially with accompanying sound
“1 blogger likes this.” Sometimes when I post on this site I afterwards check to see if anybody likes it. Sometimes I’m lucky enough to see that someone does, yet at first glance it looks like it says “1 bugger likes this” and it makes me chuckle. Sometimes however, no bugger likes it, and it makes me feel mischievous or to question whether all this is worth the effort. So today I feel mischievous, enough to post this story from my travels and call it “Trump”. I wonder if any bugger will like it. – MB.
Walker the rambler was walking ramblingly along the canal when he encountered a man.
“Morning,” said the man.
“Morning,” said Walker, “Walker.”
“Keith,” said Keith.
“Nice barge,” said Walker.
“It’s a narrowboat,” said Keith, “there’s a difference.”
“Forgive me,” said Walker, slightly put out by Keith’s bluntness. Not wishing to ask what the difference was for fear of exacerbating the man’s ire, Walker resumed his walk.
But Keith, perhaps feeling guilty for being gauche, resumed their chat by saying it’s a lovely day.
“It is,” agreed Walker.
“Days like this I love to live on a boat you know.”
“Have you ever thought of living on a boat?”
“As a matter of fact I have,” said Walker, “Especially a narrow one.”
But Keith didn’t seem to get the irony, and even if he did he wasn’t in the mood for it. “Trouble is I’m not feeling too well,” he said.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Walker.
“Got the runs,” said Keith, “Me and the wife have come down with a bug.”
“It is when you live on a boat. It’s a cassette loo. Damn thing’s full to bursting and we’re fifteen miles from the shit-hole.”
“Shit-hole?” asked Walker
“Shipley,” said Keith, “There’s a latrine but I call it a shit-hole.”
“I didn’t know you had to do that.”
“Of course,” said Keith, “We don’t just chuck it over the side you know.”
“No we don’t,” said his wife, coming up for air, “It all gets disposed of sensibly.”
“Quite,” said Walker, shuddering at the image, “Well I’m sure you’ll both feel better soon.”
“I thought that,” said Keith with a wan look, “But it’s lingered. I woke up with the wind and sensed something was up. I said so, didn’t I, Anne?”
“You did,” said Anne, sympathetically, “You said something was up.”
“Right,” said Walker, beginning to feel uncomfortable and wonder where this was leading.
“I daren’t trump,” persisted Keith, “Every time I trump I shit myself.”
“Absolutely,” said Keith, “In hindsight I should’ve known better.”
“You mean with what you ate?”
“With what we heard on the radio. It said there’s problems within the trump administration.” And with that, Keith and Anne both burst out laughing as he put the narrowboat into gear and chugged in the direction of Shipley. Walker, somewhat bemused, carefully lit a cigarette and resumed his ramble.