My dog just farted...
...Jeez, I hate that. I thought that all the nasty farting left with my ex. Oh well, at least I KNOW the dog doesn’t have enough sense to go into the restroom for such things.
There has always been a farting man in my life. When I was a little girl, my grandfather, a very successful businessman, would read the paper in his recliner at night and literally lift his leg and fart with no shame or “Excuse Me.”
Of course, when I got a little older, my brothers got a thrill out of farting. I left home and got married so I immediately had a farter of my own. Then, without missing a beat, I married again and had another farter. I swear to God, I had that one convinced that women just don’t fart.
Next, I was single for a few years but I was working as a nurse so I saw a lot of stuff much worse than farts. Then, I met the fartmaster. When my oldest son attained a certain age, he developed a facsination with farting that he pretty much still has. He laughs pretty hard at his own farts, but you can irritate the heck out of him by farting back at him.When he and my ex were both living with me, it was one great big fart-a-rama. A few years ago, I was in New York and I had this great beef sandwich with peppers...three kinds. I went into the restroom and noticed what a hideous bouquet that sandwich had summoned. I smiled. I began developing my stratagem.
It was so marvelously brilliant and the timing couldn’t have been better. They were both in the living room watching television. I went back into the living room and sat down as though all was right with the world.
Serenely secure in my evil scheme, I withheld the pressure that was my vengeance for the years of anguish to which I had been subjected by the fartmaster and his little partner in crime. I smiled cunningly as I remembered the silence that preceeded the appalling stench. I knew that there would be no forewarning for my victims. I waited until just the right moment and unleashed what was the most foul, repugnant, revolting “silent but deadly” that I had ever had the misfortune of suffering. And then I sat back and watched the consequences of my reprisal ensue. It was breathtaking...literally.
When the effects of my opus first reached their noses, they immediately glanced, accusedly, at each other. Then, they inhaled again. Oh, it was magnificent. I laughed so hard that I immediately gave myself away. They both actually got up off of their chairs. The looks on their faces were identical and said the same thing, “How can I leave the presence of this gruesome entity?” Their eyes went back and forth as though they were looking for an exit. You would have thought that they were a couple of mice in the presence of a lion.
Such a sense of contentment, I have never felt. I assure you, that one fart made up for the years of olfactory assaults that these two yahoos had released upon me.I have tried, in vain, to duplicate that awesome fart but I haven’t found the proper combination of gastric ingredients with which to do so.
OK, enough fart talk, the dog just farted again. I guess I asked for that one.
See ya,
Meg
...Jeez, I hate that. I thought that all the nasty farting left with my ex. Oh well, at least I KNOW the dog doesn’t have enough sense to go into the restroom for such things.
There has always been a farting man in my life. When I was a little girl, my grandfather, a very successful businessman, would read the paper in his recliner at night and literally lift his leg and fart with no shame or “Excuse Me.”
Of course, when I got a little older, my brothers got a thrill out of farting. I left home and got married so I immediately had a farter of my own. Then, without missing a beat, I married again and had another farter. I swear to God, I had that one convinced that women just don’t fart.
Next, I was single for a few years but I was working as a nurse so I saw a lot of stuff much worse than farts. Then, I met the fartmaster. When my oldest son attained a certain age, he developed a facsination with farting that he pretty much still has. He laughs pretty hard at his own farts, but you can irritate the heck out of him by farting back at him.When he and my ex were both living with me, it was one great big fart-a-rama. A few years ago, I was in New York and I had this great beef sandwich with peppers...three kinds. I went into the restroom and noticed what a hideous bouquet that sandwich had summoned. I smiled. I began developing my stratagem.
It was so marvelously brilliant and the timing couldn’t have been better. They were both in the living room watching television. I went back into the living room and sat down as though all was right with the world.
Serenely secure in my evil scheme, I withheld the pressure that was my vengeance for the years of anguish to which I had been subjected by the fartmaster and his little partner in crime. I smiled cunningly as I remembered the silence that preceeded the appalling stench. I knew that there would be no forewarning for my victims. I waited until just the right moment and unleashed what was the most foul, repugnant, revolting “silent but deadly” that I had ever had the misfortune of suffering. And then I sat back and watched the consequences of my reprisal ensue. It was breathtaking...literally.
When the effects of my opus first reached their noses, they immediately glanced, accusedly, at each other. Then, they inhaled again. Oh, it was magnificent. I laughed so hard that I immediately gave myself away. They both actually got up off of their chairs. The looks on their faces were identical and said the same thing, “How can I leave the presence of this gruesome entity?” Their eyes went back and forth as though they were looking for an exit. You would have thought that they were a couple of mice in the presence of a lion.
Such a sense of contentment, I have never felt. I assure you, that one fart made up for the years of olfactory assaults that these two yahoos had released upon me.I have tried, in vain, to duplicate that awesome fart but I haven’t found the proper combination of gastric ingredients with which to do so.
OK, enough fart talk, the dog just farted again. I guess I asked for that one.
See ya,
Meg
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