Kev and I make great travel companions- a fact that was not lost on either of us during our Prideventure this past weekend. We rarely, if ever, fight, we amuse ourselves to no end, we eat the same shit, like the same type men, but most of all…
We can fart in front of each other.
Not only do we secretly delight in grossing the other out with our fetidness, we actually find it highly amusing. Even the act of blowing up a bathroom can make us laugh deliriously.
This last Pride weekend was no exception. After much imbibing and several meals of protein and spice, our poor bowels were simply ravaged. Even on the way down, I started the ball rolling in the MINI with what I thougth was a ‘shart’. It was a false alarm though, as it was just the sweat in my crack making me THINK that i had let a bit more go than anticipated.
At one point (Saturday afternoon I believe) my farts were likened to “a dirty egg salad sandwich left on a hot car seat”. (Nice similie Kev-Kev!) While I found Kevin’s farts to be more reminiscent of what you would get if you fed a horse oats, alfalfa, and chicken curry.
Either way- we killed off the better portion of the scented candle that Kev had brought for ‘just such occasions’. Raspberry delight can only do so much.