Methane
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I asked, scurrying to the other side of the lobby. “You’re an asshole! You can’t walk to the other side to do that shit? I was fucking comfortable, dick.”
“Just watch,” said Kevin, grinning. “That’ll fuckin’ clear everyone out.”
He’d farted so loudly, and for so long, that I could hear it over the music. People began to react predictably, moving away from the area as though they’d been tear-gassed.
“Nice!” I shouted over his line of fleeing victims.
“Go outside,” he mouthed, pointing to the front door.
As I started in that direction, I saw him swing around in front of me to do the same. I didn’t want to follow in his flatulent wake, so I stopped in my tracks.
“Dude, fucking stay in here. You’re gonna trail that shit and I don’t want you anywhere near me.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he replied. “I know how to drop it to the floor.”
* * * * *
In other “news,” I’ll be on the road – or in the air, to be more precise - this week, flying to
Simply put, I’m really looking forward to this trip. Not for any particular reason, mind you – just because I haven’t been anywhere in quite a while. That said, I’m openly soliciting offers of FREE SHIT. If you, or anyone you know, can “hook up” four guys with any FREE SHIT in
Also, shit-to-do suggestions will be greatly appreciated, provided these suggestions tend toward the avoidance of 1) Crowds of Morons and 2) Nightclubs.
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