It could've been the popcorn...or the fudge...I think that's the only thing I've eaten, except for a couple of Baby Bella cheeses this morning. I have no idea what all of a sudden causes gas to fill one's body to near bursting. I swear if I looked in the mirror I'd see the Michelin Man...or in this case...Michelin Woman, staring back at me with a "WTF" look on her face.
Fortunately, I'm alone...The Husband hasn't gotten home from work so it's just me and the animals. They don't really mind suddenly expelled gas...no big deal to them. If there's any noise involved they look a little surprised, but that's about all. Except for Briley, The Cartoon Dog,...she has a nose that guides her every move. I'm forced to give her a pizzle chew to keep her from following me around sniffing. The pizzle stick is usually the foulest smelling thing in the house...not tonight...tonight I hold that honor...although it shames me to admit it.
It started at work right before quitting time. I went running to the bathroom...actually I walked...really fast, but not so fast that it looked like I was in a hurry...people tend to notice other people running to the bathroom and I didn't really want to draw attention to myself. I thought I was going to have to be a Sneak A Pooper so I was actually relieved to just have a giant fart trapped inside me...and thank the Lord, it was a SILENT one. Who'd a thunk I'd be happy to be farting in the bathroom at work???
At this point, I'm thinking I should probably just go home after work & skip riding. The bathroom at the barn is old and what if I end up having to be a Sneak A Pooper at the barn and the toilet won't flush? This is oddly one of my worst nightmares...being somewhere having to Sneak A Poop, and the toilet won't flush. What can I say? I know it's stoopid but I can't help it. Pooping is just "at home duty"...
So far so good...fortunately I don't smoke real cigarettes anymore...I use the fake electric ones. I'd be afraid to use a lighter anywhere around me...scared I'd catch the air around me on fire. I used to know guys who'd deliberately light their farts. I've never done it and I'd hate for them to find my charred body and surroundings burnt to a crisp from accidentally igniting the methane spewing from my hiney. I also have to admit I don't know what "burnt to a crisp" means. Does it refer to the texture of the item? Or is there some kind of item that's a crisp? I think I've heard Karl Pilkington talk about crisps on An Idiot Abroad. I think they were some kind of chips in a bag. But why not call them chips then? Why call the bathroom a loo?
Too many whys for me...for now, I have to change my location. The air around the computer smells really bad...it's the stoopidist thing.