Every bastard Christmas Day is the same. At 9am Mrs Ted will ask Do you want sprouts with your dinner? I reply emphatically NO!. Mrs Ted insists that I do. 6pm Christmas Day, dinnner eaten, kitchen cleared and I finally get to sit down in the living room. 6.20pm, my stomach gurgles, I lift my leg to break wind and all hell breaks loose. 6.21pm. Mrs Ted is shouting at me from the hallway that she thinks she is going to be sick and that I should be raked out. 6.22pm. Our day guests are making up excuses to leave Castle Ted immediately. 6.23pm. I cant say goodbye to our day guests due to an uncontrollable bout of the giggles. Im 45 years of age. I shouldnt find farting funny but I do. LONG LIVE THE SPROUT! P.S. A quick fart fable........ A fart can be compared to kids..... You dont mind your own but you have no time for anyone elses.
Posted on: Thu, 25 Dec 2014 21:50:36 +0000
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