August 28, 2011

Now with smell-o-vision

Didja miss me yesterday? I was up all night Friday Night sick. I bet I did not get 2 hours sleep and spent most of Saturday still not feeling well. Trust me, you really have no interest in the details. I will opine that eight straight hours of making butt gravy makes one pooped tired.The only bright spot is the 1980's era Frank Sinatra concert I caught on PBS. Sadly, I missed out on the chance to donate. I just plain forgot to write down the number during my 1,257 trips to the head. Image hearing Frank croon "Come Fly With Me" to the background music of explosive diarrhea.

...and the a one man band...ooohmmp phlaaat  splash..bzzzhhhhttt bhuckphat  splash...will toot his flute for you...gurgle whooffkkttt pklauuutt splash...come fly, come fly, away...

The whores on the cooking shows often lament there is no smell-o-vision. I think you all would thank me for the inability to post and share accurately the odoriferous compounds emitting from my sore derriere and twisted gurgling bowels late Friday night / early Saturday morning.


3 comments:

  1. I often wonder why that always hits on the weekend.
    James Old Guy

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  2. Huh. Must have been in the air -- I spent a good portion of Friday night on the throne as well. After one particularly good one (which also, thank goodness, was the last one), I also had a five-minute throbbing migraine. Just out of the blue; no idea what triggered it. My head still hurts.

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  3. No smell-o-vision. Please.

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