Ch...ch...changes

My wife says that after several years together, I'm not the same man that she married.

Technically this is true, but only since my sex change operation.

Whatever must have happened?

Traveling on the underground the other day I noticed that the handrail I was holding had a human size bite mark in it.

What could possibly have happened on this particular carriage to have made someone try to take a chunk out of a solid bit of plastic?

For the moment I would prefer to rule out any form of sexual activity (maybe naive of me but...), so my money is on the owner not being able to stand the smell of his fellow passengers and biting the handrail to get through the pain until the next station.

Other suggestions are welcome.

Touchy feely...

Inadvertently touching someone's leg when you sit next to them is always bad. Blokes think you're gay and women think you're a pervert.

I'm happy to say that I am only one of those things.

Save the trees!

My parents are very helpfully recycling their old newspapers and making briquettes for me to use on my open fire during the winter. Basically you mush the newspapers down into a pulp by soaking them overnight in water and then you make the briquettes with a small metal press.

This, you would have thought would be exceedingly environmentally friendly - not so. Instead of letting the briquettes dry naturally outside during the summer months, my lovely parents are turning their heating on and drying them both on radiators and in the airing cupboard!

Hardly carbon neutral is it?!

Please be seated

Queuing up to get on the tube the other evening after work, I noticed a chap in front of me who had a rucksack with what looked like metal legs on the back of it. I didn't think much of it until he got onto the crowded carriage, and proceeded to convert his rucksack into a seat, pull out a book and sit down to read it.

Ingenious yes. But he looked like a cock.

Definitions

From the oxtail English dictionary - number 27 - "Irony":

When you're travelling to work and you have a heart attack en route and are fading away, the last thing you see is a sign on the train flashing before your eyes saying "This is London Bridge, your final destination"