kill the reverb!
sitting on a bus shelter 'bench' you know the 5" wide plastic bit designed to resist the sleepy embrace of your hobo types.
earphones in, waiting for the bus. pretty girl sat at opposite end of the bench. we exchanged glances, a smile.. saw her most days on the route. AND she was my type. she's got her earphones in, so i decided to relieve the building pressure in my beleaguered colon before we got into a more intimate (enclosed) bus environment.
lifting a cheek surreptitiously, i snuck out a quick toot. glancing her way, not a flicker. emboldened by my success, i decided to tryr and shift the mother lode.

alas, due to the shiny nature of the seat, and the thin material of my kecks, the two elements conspired against me. unbeknownst to me, i appeared to have the kind of rectal pressure required to summon cthulhu.. a quick crack, a pop, then the beats was free.. growling like an infuriated rottweiler with a megaphone, my arse drummed a staccato warning of impending disaster on the bench... reverberations rattled the glass of the flimsy shelter, her head snapped round, a look of shock and disbelief on her face, clearly doubting the rumbling to be of human origin and maybe hoping for my look of confirmation that the world was indeed about to end.
alas, my bright red face did little to reassure her.
then the Smell made itself known. this Smell deserves capitalisation. shit this Smell should probably be allowed to vote and drive a motor vehicle. it was indescribable, picture underpants from the bottom of satan's laundry basket, boiled with week-old sprouts and rotting egg, sieved through the putrid corpse of a fox and regurgitated by john prescott after six pints of bitter and a kebab and you're close. this smell was nearly visible. i initially hoped it would sink to ground level and slink away to join a telemarketing company somewhere, but a capricious breeze bore the beast aloft and to the nose of said fair maiden. she blanched visibly, and stood up, moved upwind, and shot horrified glances at the source of this vile outburst, the now nearly purple peteloaf, vehemently wishing the ground would swallow him, and smelling like old nick himself was hiding in his grundies.

when we got on the bus, she made a beeline for the front window seat and opened it fully.

dammit
cockblocked my my own colon.
(UppityDamnPrimate LET'S OPEN THIS F*CKING PIT UP, Wed 3 Dec 2008, 18:06, 8 replies)

It did eventually
go on to join a telemarketing company. I'm sure it called me yesterday spouting shit about a cheap mobile contract.
(cheez is feeling ergophobic, Wed 3 Dec 2008, 18:17, closed)

*clicks*
very well written sir

I likey!
(Reverend Samson Fapohunda B3tan, B3tan, B3tan, B3tan, Wed 3 Dec 2008, 18:19, closed)

thanks
alas, for some unknown reason, my best and most palatable prose seems to revolve around the topic of bum-japery. i'm sure there IS a market for this type of literature, but until i become fluent in japanese, i shall remain a forum hack.
(UppityDamnPrimate LET'S OPEN THIS F*CKING PIT UP, Wed 3 Dec 2008, 18:23, closed)

I voted for it in 1997

(Bicycle Repairman "you're also a bit of a wanker", Wed 3 Dec 2008, 18:34, closed)

You're not Indian, are you?
There once was a man from Rangoon
whose farts could be heard to the moon
they'd rip through his rectum
when he'd least expect 'em
with the force of a raging typhoon.

(Has nothing to do with Indians, really, other than the first line.)
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Wed 3 Dec 2008, 19:16, closed)

Prarp!
I laughed so hard reading this, I nearly shat myself with the remnants of last night's Rogan Josh. Have a click for the sheer inventiveness of your prose.
(drfeck pissshitfuck, Wed 3 Dec 2008, 19:38, closed)

Hilarious!
even if your rectal tomfoolery did cost you in the female department
(Freeman163, Wed 3 Dec 2008, 20:25, closed)

had me laughing out loud
*clicks*
(Spangulum nailing your mother since 1824, Wed 3 Dec 2008, 21:57, closed)