that is the first (and hopefuly, last) animated gif ever to make me sneeze.
God bless me.
Excuse my imminent crassness, but whenever someone breaks wind, I'm rather fond of declaring that the room is now awash in billions of microscopic shit particles.
I'm equally fond of uttering other distracting statements on said occasions. Amateur scatological humorists might refer only to the bouquet, but as any experienced fartician will tell you, it pays not to neglect the other senses.
"Good lord, you could chew through that one."
"Just think, Harold -- it's more than just a slightly moist warmth. It's congealing and forming a film on your skin as we speak. I guess that must have been those greasy tamales we had in El Paso."
You have my undying admiration. My scat "humor" is usually much closer to grade-school level, which is probably why I get The Look from my better half whenever I tell her I should probably check my underwear.
I still love to remind her about the time she actually asked me to show her what a dutch oven was. I mentioned it oh-so-casually one evening after a meal likely to cause the south winds to gust and she took the bait. Victory later that evening was sweet, as well as odiforous. If that's a word.
Unfortunately she now knows of a sure-fire way to get me out of bed when I keep hitting snooze.
This is one of those inherant truths of the Universe that struck me as being particularly jarring as a boy, particularly when walking into the shit-reeking Boy's bathroom in Mathews Intermediate School. I deduced one day that if I can smell shit, it's because there are shit-motes in my olfactory passages. I regretted it immediately and ever since.
Yes, but those are clean shit-motes.
Makes me not want to trim my nasal hair.
Yes. Combine that with this and you have a whole night on the town.
Where is teh <lj user="jwz"> version plz k thx.
strangely though they don't actually know exactly how the sense of smell works. I read a cool book called "The emperor of scent" which was very interesting..