* PFFT *
I've been pretty farty all week, but 2 large helpings of sausage and lentil stew last night have really tipped things over the edge. I swear you can see these ones.
I'm here at work trying to hold them in so I (a) don't have to keep nipping to the loo like a madman and (b) don't gas half the office, but it's becoming increasingly difficult. I might rupture something if I'm not careful.
Tell us all about your own fartiness.
( , Fri 13 Jul 2007, 14:01)
I've been pretty farty all week, but 2 large helpings of sausage and lentil stew last night have really tipped things over the edge. I swear you can see these ones.
I'm here at work trying to hold them in so I (a) don't have to keep nipping to the loo like a madman and (b) don't gas half the office, but it's becoming increasingly difficult. I might rupture something if I'm not careful.
Tell us all about your own fartiness.
( , Fri 13 Jul 2007, 14:01)
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When in Venice....
Many years ago I went for romantic weekend in Venice with my then-girlfriend who, it has to be said had a regular and acute sense of humour failure when it came to the art of the fart. Which only served to encourage me, especially when she claimed this wasn't "showing her any respect".
So we're strolling through the beautiful city and we come to a bridge (the name of which I can't remember but it's famous). I leaned on the parapet amidst a crowd of people to take a photo.
And lo! I could feel a fetid miasma building inside my bowels, and believing the person pressed up behind me was my girlfriend, decided it would be funny to push back against her and let rip.
Yep. It wasn't her.
When I recall this incident my fevered imagination takes over and I tell myself that I stood there grinning and speaking loud and fluent German at the recipient of my largesse, thereby amusing myself and nurturing some European stereotypes.
The reality is that the smile froze on my face, I blushed crimson and shuffled awkwardly away. I don't even speak German.
( , Sat 14 Jul 2007, 18:00, Reply)
Many years ago I went for romantic weekend in Venice with my then-girlfriend who, it has to be said had a regular and acute sense of humour failure when it came to the art of the fart. Which only served to encourage me, especially when she claimed this wasn't "showing her any respect".
So we're strolling through the beautiful city and we come to a bridge (the name of which I can't remember but it's famous). I leaned on the parapet amidst a crowd of people to take a photo.
And lo! I could feel a fetid miasma building inside my bowels, and believing the person pressed up behind me was my girlfriend, decided it would be funny to push back against her and let rip.
Yep. It wasn't her.
When I recall this incident my fevered imagination takes over and I tell myself that I stood there grinning and speaking loud and fluent German at the recipient of my largesse, thereby amusing myself and nurturing some European stereotypes.
The reality is that the smile froze on my face, I blushed crimson and shuffled awkwardly away. I don't even speak German.
( , Sat 14 Jul 2007, 18:00, Reply)
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