<%@LANGUAGE="JAVASCRIPT" CODEPAGE="1252"%> Whisky Pants
     
     
     

Look, I'm not doing this for you, but for my own dark and twisted reasons. Oh, and because everyone else is doing it.

 
 

November 07, 2006

eat tums for candy (please)

I'm headed out for an extra long federal holiday weekend and prolly won't be given an opportunity to post while away. The Supremes are demanding little jerks, but I miss them.

Have you seen this darling little cartoon yet? I'm dedicating it to the old guys that work with me and eat too much roughage. Its been over six months and I'm still startled by old man gas (brazen, unembarrassed blasts of old man gas). I'd leave little rolls of rolaids or tums on their chairs, but they'd know it was me... Of course, I played the video while at work today, at a decent volume, and nearly hurt myself while laughing so maybe they think its okay to float air biscuits all day long. Why must they subject me to a daily fartfest? Do they think I can't hear them from 10 feet away? Jeebus.

Also, my sister tells me that my brother-in-law came home tonight and announced that he just can't stand reading the blog anymore - that it is just too embarrassing for him; he felt like he was reading someone's diary or something. Dude is funny!

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