I forgot to post something about my Montréal trip. Something not very nice.
Sunday night there was this dance, see, and it was at some brand-new über-trendy club high in some corporate skyscraper far from all the other GALA events. The club was so trendy-exclusive, in fact, that the invitation didn't even include a freakin' address. But that's a rant for a different posting.
Anyway, after a good hour of riding the subway and traipsing around a foreign neighborhood in the dark and IN THE RAIN and asking a long string of clueless locals for help, we finally found the club. And the line was at least a block long. And not moving.
I quickly lost interest, bid my fellow club hopefuls adieu and headed for Rue Saint-Catherine to find a cab home. On the way, I passed one of Montréal's billions of homeless people begging on the sidewalk. True to my indifferent Chicago roots, I kept my blinders on and kept walking.
A few steps later -- in what should be a different story altogether -- I felt what I thought was a tiny little fart knocking at my back door. Without disrupting my stride, I opened the valve just a bit to let it out.
And instead of the tiny little peep I expected to come forth, out came a LOUD wake-the-dead kind of fart, trumpeted with all the subtlety of Rush Limbaugh's personality on Don't Wipe Your Ass Day.
So not only did I callously ignore the poor homeless man slumped on the sidewalk in the rain, but I FARTED ON HIM AS I WALKED BY.
I am SO going to hell.
7 comments:
hahahahaha....I'm a firm believer that not even the homeless wouldn't want you in gaseous pain, Jake. Fart away.
Jake, only you could post a fart story that is hilarious without being trite. I love you.
I'm sure the bouquet added to the multitudes of bouquets that already surrounded him anyway. Damn them homeless folk were rank. Whoo!
Hahaha. Was he as startled as you were?
-Plish
Well, first, I highly doubt the homeless man even heard your fart.
Second, sorry that Montreal was not the best for you. I actually loved Montreal when I went and it rained the entire three days. Loved the food, loved the men, loved it all.
Third, I didn't like Quebec at all. Too Disneyland/tourist for me. And it rained all that time too.
Welcome back.
You're right: it should have been a different story altogether. One not even worth telling.
i have mastered the technique of farting silently: grab a hold of your ass cheeks open and then fart. this releases the tension that creates the sound. silent but deadly, i am... :P
I suppose that makes it easier to "blend in" while letting it out, no milk. :)
-Plish
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