The Smeller’s the Feller

Absence long story short:Sinus stoppage. Benadryl. Light sensitivity. Benadryl. Lightning storms. Power outages. Sinus pain. Benadryl. Thunderstorms. Benadryl. Sinus explosion. Benadryl. A few truck-loads of Kleenex. Benadryl.

The good news is that I can now breathe. The bad news is that I think I blew my brains out my nose sometime in the last week. If you wanted a new post, yay!!!! If you didn’t want a new post about burping and farting, sorry. As is often the case after a prolonged illness, I think what’s left of my brain is stuck on “Bodily Functions”.


My family is rather gross when it comes to bodily functions. I mean, I have two aunts who practically make burping into a familial cross between wine tasting and the Olympics.

“BrrruuuuuuuuuuuurrrrrrrpP!!!”

“Ooooh. Good one. I give it a 8.25.”

“8.25? Bull. It was at least a 9.5.”

“No way. There was no depth. 8.25.”

“Please. There were subtle undertones of pepperoni and Sprite. And it was loud and long. 9.5.”

“No way. I didn’t smell anything. I don’t care what you tasted. 8.25.”

“I smelled the Dr. Pepper I drank from last night. 9.5.”

“Nice. I’ll revise my score to a 9.0.”

On and on they go. At some point, if I’m around when these two get going with the arguing/scoring, I’ll make a smart ass remark about Russian judges. Which they don’t get because they refuse to acknowledge figure skating as a sport.

Anyway, they’ve been arguing like this since they were kids. Though, I do think the scoring thing is a recent addition, and my fault at that. They were arguing about who had the best after-taco burp when I (a mortified teenager) sarcastically scored it, hoping they’d realize how crazy they are to do this. But no. They liked the idea and have continued on with it ever since.

So my family finds bodily humor something to celebrate. Still, even growing up with whoopee cushions and fart machines and long-burp competitions the norm, I was mortified last week to find myself the victim of a serious after-Burger King gas attack. I have to tell you, Oust couldn’t touch this. Ozium sat down and cried. My scented candles had a nervous breakdown. And¬†lighting a match did nothing but cause unimaginable distress to the rest of the poor matches (so much so that they all committed suicide via candle), so horrible was the attack.

All in all, I give it a 9.2.

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