Girls Don't Fart (Except for this Morning When They Do)

I know everyone thinks I am sitting around looking pretty and farting rainbows and puppies but I don't think anything could be farther from the truth.

I have historically terrible beer farts. These farts would cause whales to beach themselves if I was in the ocean. People would throw themselves out of an airplane if I was on the flight. I am pretty sure I could scare off a rapist if it came down to it (and don't think this scare tactic hasn't crossed my mind before).

So I am sure you can picture this scene this morning.

Last night I went over a friend's apartment for a bit, and came home to Barron and our delightful friend, Matt. Which all was well and good. Beers were consumed, conversations were had, Bisco was listened to.

This morning, Barron woke me up to inform me that he was going to breakfast with Josh, as he is apt to do. However, Matt usually leaves our apartment early when he stays over, as he has a wife and probably some other responsibilities unlike myself.

So Barron goes to breakfast, and assuming Matt has left as well, I proceed to let out any and all gaseous build up that has been stewing for the past 8 passed out hours.

Did I mention I have a terrible cold? Because not only were these normal beer farts, they were compounded by illness, which I think makes every thing coming out of your body smell 200 times worse.

So I am farting for like 30 seconds straight. And I think this happened about three times.

And then I walked out of my bedroom (which goes into the living room, in case anyone was worried that Matt didn't hear).

And there was Matt.