The horror
So last week, in Ord, Nebraska, I’m putting in a servo-driven auto door on a machine. It’s a simple deal, really, just time consuming- but it involves a lot of climbing around on the machine to get it done.
I had treated myself to a Starbucks Carmel Frappucino (the only reason to go to Bucks, for me- I hate their coffee) earlier in the day, and the dairy products and caffeine invariably give me gas- sometimes, BAD gas. And I had eggs for breakfast, so the cloud was rising.
SO I’m standing on the front edge of the machine, leaning over, and one of the office women walks out right behind me. Her ear is at ass level, and just at that moment I felt a huge, horrid fart coming on.
And held it in.
I mean, I don’t know this woman from Adam, and everyone there was so nice, I was loathe to shit all over her head.
Damn, this holding farts in stuff is nasty. I don’t know how women do it. It only made it worse, later, when I could fart.
Og, I know whatchya mean, holding in wise. Last week I had an episode involving copious quantities of lentils. ‘Nough said.
Know the feeling. I seem to be afflicted with copiuos production of the noxiuos gas. In cube ville it is not a virtue.
Spend a portion of the day on the pot contemplating the ancient ryhme.
I saw a joke once — one of those more-truth-than-poetry things — which was a syllogistic buildup of how it is that women can’t fart, and that’s why they (or so many of them anyway) bitch.
Guess ya hadda been there.
M
That’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it. What’s YOUR’S?
swmbo
The key is to blame it on the dog. My mutt has gotten so bad that his emanations can be detected three rooms away.
Great excuse but blaming it on the dog only works if you currently have a dog.
swmbo
We don’t always hold it in. Only when we’re “captive”, such as in an elevator, a conference room, or other confined space. Otherwise, “dispersion”, baby!
“Oh, I have to pick up something from the printer now…”
My wife assures me that she doesn’t fart.
She does, however, pass an awful lot of something that smells like sewer gas. And then laughs when I react.
I believe she also doesn’t sweat, but rather, she glows.
Women are an enigma.
“It only made it worse, later, when I could fart.”
Material for your next post? The world is waiting.