My Ass Muscle Is The One That Holds My Dignity In.

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Ryan: “I feel that I should introduce you to the joys of the Cream Pie Shake.”

Me: “I feel that I should introduce you to the fact that I’m lactose intolerant.”

Ryan: “You eat cheese all the time!”

Me: “Fermented dairy, for some reason, doesn’t bother me, but straight ice cream or milk, I blow up like a balloon.”

(silence)

Me: “Grossed out?”

Ryan: “Not at all…just trying to decide if I should get you to drink one anyway, so we can get your first fart out of the way.  It’s going to happen one of these days, Megan.  It might as well be a controlled scenario.”

Me: “Ryan, this isn’t just some stupid forest fire we’re discussing, this is FARTING.  This is SERIOUS.”

Ryan: “Somewhere, a family of deer disagrees with your priorities.”

54 thoughts on “My Ass Muscle Is The One That Holds My Dignity In.

    • Actually, that doesn’t really get me. It has to be a LOT of milk, and it’s not bad, bad…more lactose sensitivity than intolerance. I don’t have the scary smellies, but I just bloat all to hell. This is SO MUCH more info than you wanted. Damn it, Megan…shut the fuck up. 🙂

  1. I’m just trying to envision the scenario where we get the deer to judge:

    Meg, inside her tent, has just downed a grande Cafe Au Lait, heavy on the Lait, with sommores covered with real whipped cream. Full to bursting, she crawls inside her sleeping bag for a little snooze.

    Meanwhile, on the other side of the campground, Doobie Doobie Dude has just dropped his little lit friend. Oh, NO!! Bambie’s mom, pregnant with the famous fawn,races away from the licking flames–Directly into Megan’s tent!

    Meg, snoring away, is still wrapped up like a burrito–giving only one avenue of escape for anything needing escape. She awakens, startled, at the sound of hooves, and raises up in fright.

    OOOH NOOOO!!!! The long-pent-up becomes the strong-scent-up: WHOOSH!!

    OUT shoot the gasses from the sleeping bag, BANG slams Meg’s bag into Bambi’s mom as the second law of thermodynamics proves its might. Simultaneously, UP stands Meg’s hair from the pressure, and her nose begins to bleed.

    Bambi’s mom, due to pop any second, sees a bloody-faced witchy CREATURE shooting toward her at the speed of an express train. And it smells like…Death. Her BABY!!!

    Will she stay in that tent, or run back toward the Dude?

    Tune in next week for another episode of:

    LACTOSE-LACRIMOSE GIRL!!!

  2. pjsandchocolate

    If he really wants to get “The First Fart” out of the way, (which is a serious relationship move – next it will be leaving the door open to potty), I say use the Dutch Oven Technique to really test his level of commitment.

    • Ha! I will go on the record as saying I will NEVER go to the bathroom with the door open. I, clearly, have some loose boundaries, but that one is Ft. Knox. Now, that Dutch Oven idea…that has some merit. Lol!

  3. What is it with women and farting around their date… It’s not as though we (men) don’t know it happens… Hell, we’ve seen worse with the faux pas of misplaced tampons and maxi pads… But farting?! It’s like some imaginary line not to be crossed we don’t understand…

  4. Randstein

    I laughed so hard my dignity was lost. You have to start early with mule fart training or it just won’t work. I started with the grand kids when they were still crawlers. Now they play with Barbies and pull Barbies’ finger, fart like a mule, and sail Barbie across the room. They will be a big hit in the lunch room at school. Just think of what this could do to cubie farms in office buildings.

    • That is a lovely thing to wake up to on a Saturday morning. 🙂 Much better than how I initially woke up…to a dog licking a Klondike wrapper he stole from the kitchen trash. lol

  5. god. you had me at the title. I feel like a blog whore. okay. I am a blog whore (step 1 – admit you have a problem, right?). this made me laugh pretty hard. also reminded me of this: so, we played this game at work where everyone had to write some quirky fact they’ve never admitted to anyone and then we had to match all the teachers up. (borderline dumb/genius.) and one teacher put that in FIFTEEN years of marriage she’d never farted in front of her hubby. that is one strong sphincter. amirite???

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