Welcome to TMI Thursdays! As LiLu always says: Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, “how many readers can I estrange THIS week??” TMI story about your life. Or hell, about someone else’s!
Now I know this is not a normal TMI, but how it went down was just too cool not to share. Next week I will be back in full force. Enjoy!
Lately I have been trying to eat healthier than normal, living off the land sort of mentality. This means extra leafy greens and fiberous plant substances. Well, thats good for you right? No! No it is not. Especially when you are me. See one by product of greens is gas. Normally I am not that gassy of a person, I mean no more than your average guy. Except when you add the fart rocket fuel known as veggies.
Typically my gas all tapped out in the evening about 4 hours after I eat. My body, I know thee well. Maybe too well some times if you know what I mean. Anyways, I had a nice salad, brussel sprouts, and onions the other evening along with my chicken. These powers combined and formulated a toxic methane cloud in my bowels. Feeling a little bloated and gnarly I thought I would blow off some steam later that evening. Boy, how I was wrong. That night no incident.
Roll into work the next day feeling great. I would even go as far as spectacular. Until I drank a V-8. I was called into a meeting about 30 minutes later and things subsided a bit. I breathed a sigh of relief… Prematurely!
As I was sitting there listening to the boss, I felt as if someone kicked me straight in the gut. I didn’t know if I had to fart or shit myself! After a moment of analysis I was pretty sure a wicked fart was screaming for escape, but the problem was I couldn’t move, nor could I begin to even get out of my chair. Realized I was sitting in a cloth chair I did the side slide maneuver, where you non-nonchalantly lean to one side and let it rip. The goal is to grip it and rip it sans noise. Score! It totally worked.
Oh, but how I was wrong. The thing is there might not have been any noise, but due to the large vegetable count, the smell was off the reservation. As I sat there a blend of aromas assaulted my nasal cavities. It was an odoriferous blend of chili, Brussel sprouts, boiled hot dogs, coupled with swamp ass. It was the coup de grace of horrific farts. In. My. Meeting.
So, there I sat marinading in my own stank. Next to a female (non-attractive) co-worker, I had to think fast. I scrunched my nose and looked around then said in a whisper, “dude, what the hell is that smell?” Knowing full well it was me, I tried passing the buck. Then something amazing happened! My co-worker turned bright red and said, “oh, I am sorry. I didn’t think anyone would notice.”
Super score! I ripped a fat nasty and the chick next to me took the blame! I was wicked bad ass.
This is Sofia. The Coppola Vineyard’s sparkling California white wine. 70% Pinot Blanc, 20% Sauvignon Blanc, 10% Muscat Cannelli. In A Freakin Can!
Did I mention it comes with it’s own flexi-straw attached?
Yes, I am drinking sparkling wine in a pink can with a straw. 
Hello, you are not too bad. 
Oh Shit! How did that pinky get out there?
Oh yea, things are looking up!
This has a bit of a kick… Yet smooth and classy. You know trailer park classy.
This stuff is really freaking good!
I am sad it’s all gone. 
The Gospel of JP 