the sausage sense of humour
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Do you laugh when people fall over ?.
If you do, it's likely that you suffer from an affliction I term 'the sausage sense of humour'. (So named for its' symptoms of causing one to laugh at things that make others look at one as if perhaps one is demented. Or maybe something worse).
The word 'sausage' should not be allowed in decent conversations. My persistently puerile sense of humour announces me as the goose that I am via my honking with laughter at the mere mention of the word.
Not only is this embarrassing, but, as an Australian, it severely limits my enjoyment of the primary summer social activity - the barbecue.
I cannot for the life of me compose a lucid reply to a man clad in a apron who asks me if I would like a sausage, and if the question is phrased in a way as to enquire whether I might require multiple sausages, I become so paralyzed with mirth as to render myself near unintelligible.
My husband just has to point at the sausages in the butchers window to set me off, sometimes.
And don't even get me started on what I do when people trip over in the street ...