lobsterchick's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Run! Run Far Away! I walked into my boss, Amy's, office, where she, Colleen, and Dina were sitting. "I did something, and I don't even feel bad about it." "Uh, do I want to know about this?" Amy asked. "I couldn't have helped it anyway, and it would be kind of funny if they told on me for it." She sighed. "Go ahead." Well, these people ordered stuff from me, and then completely camped out at my bar, which is beyond obnoxious, especially if they don't tip. Then no one else, perhaps good tippers, can come to me and buy anything. I started feeling a little icky then, thanks to the chicken strips I'd had at lunch, and realized I had to fart. So I did, and it was the most vile, silent-but-deadly, nasty-ass toot ever to exit the rear of anyone in North America. I almost laughed out loud, anticipating the reactions of the squatters, but I didn't want to open my mouth while the green cloud was still hanging in the air. One guy in the group stopped, sniffed, looked around, then went right back to the conversation. They didn't even move. If there is one thing that will clear a room fast, it is a Chicken Strip Fart, but these people were having none of it. Maybe I should have waved it toward them. 11:16 PM - 06 June 2004 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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