In Amsterdam i boarded a busy tram, headed for the centre away from a trade show.

A lot of people had boarded at the back of the tram, so the woman driving the tram got on the intercom and asked in her dry and flat Amsterdam accent of people could please move to the front of the tram, not many people complied.

A minute or so later somebody cut the tram off in traffic, necessitating her to brake sharply. Quite a few people stumbled forward due to the sudden deceleration.

Not dropping a beat she was back on the intercom, saying: ‘well that’s they other way of getting it done, but next time please listen’. Her casual delivery was brilliant. Best time I’ve had in public transport.

The night before my school week started when I was in high school my cousin had been over and we’d been playing Call of Duty. Now, he had just learned of another word for farting and he kept on saying it while we played. So, naturally, that’s what I thought that word meant.

Next day I went to school and during art class I told my teacher “Ugh, I just queefed. Can I use the washroom?” The whole class heard me and that’s when I found out that queef didn’t mean the passing of ass gas.

For several months I had a sharp pain in my chest and I worried that i was developing some sort of heart trouble.

Then one day I realized that my friend and I have this inside joke where we clap our hands really rapidly ehenever we do something exciting or get excited about an idea like visiting a great restaurant or something.

So I stopped doing the excited clap for a few days and the heart pain went away, hahaha.

I was probably repeatedly straining a muscle by rapid-clapping like a madman all the time.

I still laugh at myself sometimes when I think about it. it only happened about a year ago.

Nothing really.