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Blossoms from the Fart Garden
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This is my place for Uninsightful Adolescent Ramblings. If anyone actually finds it, reads it, and heaven forbid, makes a comment on it, I'll be very surprised.
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| I'm sending this from the Hospital |
Mar 28, 2008 6:45 pm
Mood: Goofy, 567 Views | As you all know... I have been dieting. What you didn't know, however, was how I lost 50 lbs. so rapidly....
I have been buying a supply of 'Science-Diet' for dogs. What I've been doing, is easy and inexpensive. Whenever I get hungry, I just pop a couple of the dry nuggets into my mouth, chew them up and swallow them. The package said it was low on calories and nutritionally complete, so, "What the hell, right?"
WRONG....
I'm HORRIFIED, today, to find that I'm in the hospital, a victim of a 'hit & run' car accident. They did catch up to the driver of the car, and she explained what happened, but she was not ticketed.
"Oh well... If I hadn't been sitting in the middle of the street licking my balls, this probably never would have happened."
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7 Comments | |
| The Mystique of The Universe |
Mar 28, 2008 5:37 pm
Mood: Riddled, 502 Views | If anybody knows the true answer to this question, you may have solved the riddle of the Universe, or maybe even found the "Missing Link."
But I'm certain that many folks have often wondered about this since the beginning of time. What is the question, you ask?
Why are there so many more horse's asses than there are horses?
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3 Comments | |
| My Dick Turned Bright Orange |
Mar 28, 2008 12:46 am
Mood: Horny, 539 Views | I could not, for the life of me, figure out why my cock was slowly turning 'bright orange.' I actually thought that I had figured *everything* into the equation. I gave up and I was quite concerned with this condition.
I called my Doctor's office and scheduled an appointment. I'm not gonna die from some fuckin' *alien* disease that's being spread around through the air by "some fucking Quaquakron life-form.
So, this morning I get to the Doctor's office, and his receptionist shows me to one of the 'examination' rooms, that you sit there and wait for 4 fucking hours.... but I was quite surprised when the Doctor arrived almost immediately. He asked me what my problem was.
"Well, Doc, to be honest... I'm here because my cock has turned bright orange, and I'm terribly concerned about it."
"Hmmmm," replied the Doc, "I've never encountered a problem quite like that. Why don't you take off your trousers, and let me have a look."
So I quickly dropped my drawers, stepped out of them, and folded them up on the examination table.
The Doctor commented, "Holy Shit! Your cock is Bright flourescent orange! I swear I've never seen anything like that before."
I meekly asked, "So, what do you think is wrong?"
The Doctor asked me a few questions, "Well, where do you work?"
"Well, Doc, I work at the local shoe factory."
"OK" replied the Doc, "What do you do when you get done working?"
"Well," I replied, "I work the 2nd shift, so when I get off of work, nothing's open except the Video Store, so I stop by there and rent a couple of porn videos, buy a bag of Cheetos, and I go home.
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8 Comments | |
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| Going to the Doctor tomorrow.... |
Mar 27, 2008 11:33 am
Mood: Cocky, 467 Views | I've been putting this off for the longest time, but I've had problems with my legs for years.
I have one leg that's longer than the other two, and it's really starting to bother me.
Any wisdom out there to help with this small problem?
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15 Comments | |
| I've Decided to Move to Canada |
Mar 24, 2008 10:35 pm
Mood: Corny, 498 Views | Yep, that's right! I've decided to move to Canada. I was driving on I-94 on my way to Cottage Grove, WI today and it was a nice afternoon. I was kinda daydreaming and taking in the scenery when I saw it...the new Billboard along the highway at the Marshall/Deerfield exit. It just lured me in like a fish on a rod and reel... it said...
Drink
CANADA DRY |
I thought that sounded like such a great idea, I'm going to move there ASAP and give it a go.
Anyone up for helping me try to drink those damn Canucks Dry?
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12 Comments | |
| Almost Ate at a Thai Restaurant Today... |
Mar 23, 2008 10:21 pm
Mood: Hungry, 528 Views | I almost ate at a Thai Restaurant Today. I was hungry and traveling in Wisconsin between towns via Madison, WI. Thai sounded good to me... I've ate at lots of good Thai joints, and have never been disappointed. I called my cell-phone provider and asked for the nearest Thai restaurant from my current location, and the operator directed me to this place...and I took a photo with my camera phone...
click for full-size image
So I ask you... would you eat there? | |
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16 Comments | |
| Happy Keister! |
Mar 23, 2008 3:25 pm
Mood: Happy, 456 Views |
Happy
Keister!
Definition of keister: n. - The fleshy part of the human body that you sit on.
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3 Comments | |
| In the Interest of Safe Driving |
Mar 22, 2008 2:31 pm
Mood: Drinking, 473 Views | A recent study by the US Transportation and Safety Dept. has concluded that 30% of all auto accidents are caused by Drunken Drivers.
So this leads me to believe that 70% of all auto accidents are caused by Sober Drivers. Would you come to that conclusion?
Well I have a solution to the problem...
Can you Sober Drivers please get the fuck off the road so that We (Drinkers) can get home safely?!
Thank You | |
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9 Comments | |
| The Giggles Can Be Catchy... |
Mar 22, 2008 1:24 pm
Mood: Shitty, 510 Views | I was in the airport in Madison, WI. when things really started burblin' down below, and I immediately knew I needed to get to a bathroom...fast. My sphincter muscle became clamped tighter than a Nun's knees in church, so I carefully 'duck-waddled' my way in to the bathroom directly behind 5 other men, and unfortunately, they all had the same idea. It was a fairly large bathroom, with 6 stalls, and the other 5 men headed for their own stall, and left the final one as my resting place... as a result, I was a little bit embarrassed about making too much noise in the bottom department.
I'd not had much sleep and I was in a very giggly mood.
After everyone had settled in to their respective stalls, a dead silence seemed to overcome the entire bathroom. I can only assume that everyone was waiting for someone else to be the first to break the quiet of the bathroom. There was just an occasional rustle of a newspaper, or an occasional cough. I decided that I'd do a fake-flush and use the noise as a cover to camouflage my anticipated loud opening salvo.
Just as I was reaching for the handle, someone in another stall released a ripper that could have been measured on the Richter scale. I was already feeling very silly, so I started to giggle, and in the resulting jocularity... I accidentally excreted an extremely noisy blurble of nasty moist farts and followed it up by birthing a timber log that sounded like a bowling ball being dropped into a bathtub.
click for full-size image
I thought it was so hilarious, I just lost it and began to laugh hysterically. And the thought of people in adjacent stalls wondering what the hell is going on just made me crack up and laugh even louder. This horrible cycle just feeds on itself and the next thing you know, all six of us are giggling uncontrollably whilst farting and noisily expelling our own various nasty poop.
When people walked in, they were scared off... all they heard were six grown men adolescently giggling, shitting and farting. Those poor people must have thought we were all lunatics.
Towards the end of this, I could hear the stall doors opening one-by-one and people washing up and leaving very rapidly... I waited for thirty minutes to be sure anyone that could even remotely link me to the event had left. | |
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3 Comments | |
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| The Hazards of Living Alone... |
Mar 20, 2008 7:21 pm
Mood: Stinky, 537 Views | Doing sales on the road is a lonely thing. You have to adjust to spending time alone in the car, in restaurants, and in motels. Unfortunately you pick up some really bad habits as well -- habits that ordinarily would horrify you, but, since no one knows about them, you're free to do. A few examples include talking to yourself, burping, eating in the car, yelling at other drivers, talking to the television in the motel room, sleeping in the nude, farting in the bathtub, peeing in the shower, smoking cigars in the car, and farting in the car. Loudly.
When you're alone so much that you start automatically doing these things, there's a real danger to accidentally doing them when you're finally around people. One time I stayed in an adjoining motel room with a business associate; at breakfast the next morning, he asked, "Who were you yelling at in the room last night?"
He knew I usually leave my cell phone in the car overnight so that nobody can bother me during non-working hours. I had to fumble for an answer, but you could tell by the look in his eyes that he thought that I was a blue-skinned inbred who needed to be euthanized with a sharp ice pick. I scrambled to remember what I had been yelling at the TV, but it must have sounded sociopathic in nature, because the dude refused to go on business trips with me after that.
This story has to do with that last bad habit: farting in the car. I usually pass gas in the car by raising my butt from the driver's seat and expelling it as loudly as I can. This technique expedites the whole process -- you don't have to rip a series of junior farts and prolong the process.
I had driven in from Hoopeston, IL and arrived in Madison, WI at the offices of a firm whose name you would recognize. I was bringing some plans to three purchasing agents, the entire engineering group, and the VP of the whole outfit. That morning I'd slurped down four coffees, a danish, and a particularly foul-smelling ham biscuit from Bojangles, and the whole deal was fermenting in my gizzard. It felt like somebody had forced a rotting turkey buzzard down my throat, poured a melted can of Sterno over it, let it sit for an hour, and then forced some canned spray cheese into my nostrils and made me swallow it.
I was late for the meeting, so no time to use the restroom first. I came in and we all sat in boardroom chairs. If I had to guess, I would say there were about twelve of us in there, waiting for another VIP to join us. I was bored and lost in my thoughts as the wait began to drag on, and that is when it happened. I had been living and working alone much too long, and it was time to be outed.
Releasing my cheeks, I hunkered my hindquarters up and tried to blow out the festering fart as if I was giving birth to a porcupine. It sounded like a cat caught in the fan belt of a forklift.
The entire room went silent and I realized that I'd just ruined my career.
My jaw dropped open and I said the first thing I could think of: "I think I'm sick."
You could have heard a snake fart. Nobody knew whether to laugh or pretend nothing had happened. A couple moments later, one person started to laugh, and then the whole room exploded.
That very instant, the VIP walked into the room. And he smelled it.
He looked as if someone had just told him that his seventy-four-year-old grandmother was expecting triplets after visiting an anonymous sperm bank. I saw several emotions in his expression: surprise, anger, shock, revulsion. And then he started looking around the room to see who had unleashed the fart. All eyes fell onto me, and I wanted to die.
"Are you feeling better?" asked the oldest woman in the room. And then there was another outburst of laughter. The VIP, though, never laughed once. (Apparently they walked on eggshells around that guy. I guess he was some type of high-ranking Klan member during his off hours.)
The odor lingered in the room like gray clouds of smelting medical waste thrown up by a sick Alpaca. It was the worst half-hour of my life. After the meeting, nobody said a word about it. I got back in the car and went back to Hoopeson. When I entered our building, my boss came out of the conference room and asked, "What in the tarnation happened over there?" The VIP had called him -- and he seemed to think I'd done it on purpose.
My boss warned me that I'd be fired if it happened again. But I saved him the trouble -- I slinked out of the office at the end of the day, having decided to move to Florida and start a new life. I'd been dreaming of doing it for a long time anyway -- I was that tired of being on the road alone.
When I applied for a sales job back in Illinois twelve years later, the first thing the interviewer asked me was, "Is the fart story true?"
By that time I could laugh about it. "Every word of it," I said.
He hired me anyway. | |
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13 Comments | |
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