What many of you may not be privy to, aside from Mrs. That Dan Guy, is that while I post these daily ramblings in the privacy of our humble abode, I pass gas like a fog machine at a rock concert. Sometimes loudly and boisterously, sometimes quietly and lethally. Ka-Boom! Pffft... Rat-A-Tat-Tat.
Constantly.
No need to respect international laws. No worries about offending priests or rabbis. Happy-go-lucky, the gas passes freely.
I can't exactly say that this has anything at all to do with the creative process, but it does wonders for my morning cramps.
Oddly enough, I once threw out a housecoat that had worn through ONLY in the buttock area. Like it has been blasted clear through.
Coincidence? I wonder...
Regardless, it is my prerogative as Master Of The House, and it feels damn good...
Chow for now!
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4 comments:
Lmao....I know of a certain sista who can let it rip just like you....no names mentioned....well, maybe initials? DG tee hee
Runs in the family, apparently!!!!
Sounds like I'm sitting beside a bubble machine this morning!
OMG! Whatever Mr and GG! No comment other than "Do you have no shame in what you share with the world Mr.?!"
Shame is for...well, clearly not for me...
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