Yess! Fantastic.
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Ok, now please, delete all al the last comments. But let me first copy that pic to paste it in my first post about the simpsons.
No revisonism of history in my thread!
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Ah, go watch that dreadful “Homer was in a grunge band” episode if that is your sort of thing!
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Thanks 
Your one made me giggle too 
now I really want some limoncello…
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Me too. 
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The brake OF DOOOOOOM
1999 - I was in Rimini with my family - parents, sister and a cousin. It was a nice summer evening, and we thought it would have been nice to rent a carriage bike and have a ride along the coast road. My parents were pedalling, the three youngsters sitting on the back, enjoying the fresh air and the view of the different beach clubs and evening shows. Everything was fine, except for one thing: the bike’s brake made a strong fart-like sound whenever we stopped completely. Well, it was amusing, but unexpected.
We then saw in the distance a group of people looking at a small stage. As we approached it, we noticed there was a string quartet playing, and we thought it could have been nice to listen to them. You can see where this is going.
We stopped. Right at the moment when the quartet finished their song. Instead of an applause, they got a big farting razz, and literally everyone in the audience turned to watch us. That was SO embarrassing we cycled away as fast as we could. But we couldn’t stop laughing.
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The spare wheel of cheese.
I was 20-ish, and my father had just bought that famous cottage.
I used to go often there with my then-girlfriend, to study and to escape from the town.
One day I left my town. As always, I had a bag of food in my trunk. in the bag there was a carton of fresh milk I had opened the day before. I opened it to make a caffè macchiato for a friend, so it was an almost whole liter, missing only some drops. it was a pity to throw it away, or leaving it at home and getting rotten! So I took it. I drove up to the cottage, i took my bags from my trunk and I started unpacking things. With my surprise, I found the carton was empty. Oddily, the carton and the bag in which it was weren’t stained with milk. I ran to my car, expecting to find a disaster in the trunk (how come I didn’t notice anything while unloading it?).
The trunk was incredibly clean. No sign of the vanished milk.
Days passed, and I didn’t think about this mistery anymore. I returned home.
Many days passed.
One day I decided to buy some car perfume, since I had the impression my car had a stale air.
This impression grew with the days passiing.
One day I left my car under the sun (it was summer).
I got into the car, and I realized it had a strong fermented cheese smell.
I got out of the car, ran around it, opened the trunk.
It was incredibly shiny and clean. And stinky as hell.
I slowly raised the floorboard of the trunk.
I was invested by a mephitic blow and I nearly fainted.
My spare wheel was half buried in a large wheel of cheese!
It took me:
- one afternoon to clean up the mess
- Three weeks to eliminate the smell from the car
- Three more weeks to be able to eat any cheese again.
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That moment made me laugh
You can bet I didn’t laugh at the moment!
And how the milk got under the floorboard without staining anything still remains a mistery, to me.
This has been one of the yuckiest experiences I’ve had.
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Well, seems like you’re ready to be a father.
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Gugabombing
I was on honeymoon, a cruise on the Arabian gulf. In our Dubai stop we booked an excursion on the desert on jeeps. It was very nice, hordes of jeeps running on the desert dunes on the most orange sand I’ve ever seen against a bright blue sky. We made a stop, and we could take a few pics.
As the contrast between sand and sky was so beautiful and - except for all the people on the excursion - there was no sign of civilization, I asked my wife to take a pic of me on top of a dune and nothing else around. So I went a bit far from her, looking in the distance enjoying the nice view.
Then I heard a shout from below. There were two ladies sitting on the sand to take a pic, and I was stepping on them. I apologized, embarrassed, and went away to have my pic snapped.
The excursion went on, more driving on the dunes and then we stopped again on a camp to have dinner. After a while, one of the ladies came to me holding her camera.
“This is you, isn’t it?”
We had a great laugh and I gave her my email address because I had to have that picture.
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If it weren’t for the story you told, looking at the pic it seems you were up to slapping that poor lady on her face.
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“Get off my dune! This dune is mine, get your own dune!” 
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Ok, game over. Best anecdote ever.
Mr. Fahrnholz, I propose a formal motion to archive this thread 
But, we have only just begun! 
The secret room
My wife and I are into city trips, and while we also look at the common tourist attractions, we often find the small or hidden places much more to our liking. So as part of four days in London, we visited the Sir John Soane museum. Imagine a somewhat typical townhouse stuffed from roof to cellar with antiques, a miniature British Museum, if you will. As we are making our rounds, already pretty much impressed, a door we’d given no attention to gets suddenly thrown open, revealing a guide who announces that the tour of the picture room would now commence. We didn’t know about any tours or picture rooms but, being by sheer luck at the right place at the right time, enter with a few other people, before he closes and locks the door from the inside.
We found ourselves inside a small room, walls covered in paintings, which hung on panels that would swing open to reveal more paintings underneath, two layers deep. Not only had we never expected to see any of this, but the guide put up a really great show in recounting the stories behind some of the paintings or their content. Suffice to say that I can never look at a silver plate with the same innocence as before. Eventually we left, bedazzled and blown away. From all we’ve seen and experienced of London, before and after, that had been the absolute highlight.
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Wow. this won’t beat Guga’s as an anecdote, but this it Top Class Pro Travelling Tips!
I’ve been in London many times, and that museum was always on the list but was never checked out. Next time I’ll be there I won’t miss it. And I’ll look in advance for the secret room tour.