I'll tell you all about my walks this weekend, but quickly: A story.
Shana and I went to Chipotle for lunch, where we shared a booth. The interior of Chipotle is designed like an upscale junkyard - corrugated aluminum paneling, lacquered plywood chairs and benches - all very stark and echo-y.
So Shana's across from me, talking about her life's path, resting one foot on my seat. I have to fart. And I think, "How wicked would it be if I just let it out? It's loud in here, no one will notice.
This fart was a Level 5 CheekQuaker.
I didn't think Shana would catch on...until I saw her shift in her seat. My ears were still ringing from the rumble, my mind spinning from the sheer joy of anonymous flatulence, so I didn't hear the first few sentences she uttered post-fart.
"What?" Quoth I.
"I felt that."
"The bench rumble when you farted..."
"What! You felt that!"
"In my foot. Then I saw the look on your face, like a baby that's trying to poop."
Then I laughed and LAUGHED. Because nothing is funnier to me than a fart among friends. It truly made my day.
Now I can't stop. I had loads of fiber last night, a high-fibe cereal this morning, beans at Chipotle, AND Diet Coke. I'm burp n' fart factory. I imagine my bowels operating like a bouncy cartoon tugboat in my belly. The human body is an amazing machine.
So there's that,