An autobiographical tale, or Pwned - whichever, I suffer.
I'd like to introduce you to my missus. I've spoken about her on here before. In my eyes she's legendary, having an arse that is fouler than Satan's breath and more productive than a whole series of Japanese automotive plants.

So I guess I should have known I would have been in for hell this morning whilst cooking up a spicy molé last night with chipotle, jalapenos, chili flakes and fresh chili, topped off with an astringent salsa and refried beans. And I wasn't attempting to sabotage her particularly - I just like to make a tasty stew and her guffery is just, normally, an unfortunate side effect.

Well, the hell started last night and I was treated to a series of under-duvet eruptions that smelt simultaneously fruity, but off - like a decomposing badger who'd dined on asafoetida and eggs.

Anyway, enough of all this extrapolation, to the meat of the story. I've just woken her up with a cup of tea and our little 'un aged 3 giving her a cheery good morning as well.

And me and the lad came back down the stairs - I've even put the bacon on - and I saw her rushing for the loo...

A slight smile playing on her lips.

She's been up there some time, still is, and she's called for a copy of her professional magazine to bide her time...

But I know her game...

She's brewed up a treat for me in there and there's no way I'm going up to find my throat being contracted and my nostril hairs singed.

So I sent up the little lad with the book, to act as a canary.

He hasn't come back down yet...

EDIT: Shit, typing this, I've just burnt the toast. What a berk.
(Chickenwire social lubricator extraordinaire, Sun 21 Sep 2008, 9:08, 7 replies)

rancid!
my friend once told me that she and her husband were in bed one morning with their 3 year old in between them. the husband farted and it reeked.

the little boy, sandwiched under the duvet in the middle, sniffed once, twice and his nose wrinkled up. then he said:

"mmm. can i have eggs for my breakfast too?"

disgusting!
( rachelswipe with a fork, Sun 21 Sep 2008, 10:26, closed)

I only wish
I could fart whilst in control of my bodily functions...
(Chickenwire social lubricator extraordinaire, Sun 21 Sep 2008, 19:34, closed)

Alas
For I have already walked unawares into the fetid gascloud that is the result of a spicy chicken & lentil hotpot.

I feel OK, but one of my legs doesn't work properly anymore
(osok Rebel without a clue, Sun 21 Sep 2008, 11:22, closed)

have a click
just for ``like a decomposing badger who'd dined on asafoetida and eggs.'' heehee
(tuqueboy has been in a medically -induced coma since, Sun 21 Sep 2008, 16:15, closed)

@tuqueboy
It was either that or toothpaste, Head and Shoulders and shit...
(Chickenwire social lubricator extraordinaire, Sun 21 Sep 2008, 19:34, closed)

Have a ''Click'' of love
For this alone :-

"
She's brewed up a treat for me in there and there's no way I'm going up to find my throat being contracted and my nostril hairs singed.

So I sent up the little lad with the book, to act as a canary. "

XD Child cruelty wins the day.
(FightingComet got Boost Power on, Sun 21 Sep 2008, 23:35, closed)

-
You're a good man. Sick. But good.
(Chickenwire social lubricator extraordinaire, Wed 24 Sep 2008, 21:28, closed)