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So scientists think that one day they may be able to erase the memory of tragic events.


Yeah, it may come down to "inhaling the right gas at the right time" which as anyone who has ridden in the elavatah with Al knows beats the hell out of inhaling the wrong gas at the wrong time.


Seriously, I need the right gas at the right time to unremembah the time aftah Al's sopressata and peperoncini lunch fest.


"Hello, Pentagon? Yeah, well, I think we found your WMD."


Ah, c'mon guys you're making me blush with all this praise.



Meh. Gas passing is on the agenda. In light of their recent performance it is appropriate.

I do NOT discuss such matters!
The butler, though, does "drop a bomb", but because he is so creepy, no one dares complain about it in fear of encouraging him to drop another one.
He is, after all, the Creepiest Man in the World.

Stay creepy, my friends.
Stay creepy, and remain downwind, my Enemies.

Artie D. Artie D.

The greatest fart I ever let rip was after lunch at a Hungarian restaurant in NYC. "Hunter's Stew" was the special of the day, and I knew I must have it. Later, I let many other people have it, too. It was full of autumn and rotting foliage, acorns and feces, decaying flesh and the hint of a deer's last glimpse of its mother. It was glorious, a gaseous poem, an olfactory ode to to the forest primeval.

That sounds awesome, Bob.

This summer I'm really enjoying the under the water pool fart. Something about having to travel up gives it a certain unmistakable terroir when it breaks the surface.

and, so, it's come to this.




Giardia farts are indescribable...well...maybe Bob could do it. Smelling one, however is infinitely more enjoyable than listening to that twit over there talking to hisself in that ittybittykitty voice.


While driving the kids along in the car, I would periodically let an SBD go having made sure to lock the car windows. Amid the shouting and the gasping, those poor kids would be trying to power the windows down. I can only describe it as priceless.

One time, as a young altar boy, I had to fart so bad during Mass it was killing me. I finally had an opportunity after communion, as I had to go into the back to retrieve the cross for the recessional. I let a long one rip, and thought it went unheard except by me, but when I came back out on the alter the other 3 alter boys were in hysterics. One of those laugh so hard you cry moments. We laughed through the rest of Mass. Needless to say, the priest was not amused.

needless to say.


Speaking of silent but deadly, Joan Rivers was just rushed to a hospital because she stopped breathing during some sort of vocal cord operation.

And since this is a Thursday strip before a sub-500 Friday before a long weekend, we get to contemplate our farts for at least 5 days. Now doesn't that just stink?

at least we won't have to smell the litter box

Today is my last summer Friday of the year. THAT stinks.

You want smelly farts, give Doritos to a German Shepard Dog. Especially fun when it's a house party at your boss' place...

"That tastes really good, but I can't put my finger on what it reminds me of..."

"Wait, I got it. It tastes like a cool ranch. If a cool ranch had any flavoring, other than dirt, dung and cowboy sweat."

Have a great weekend all. Hopefully we'll have something fun to yak about on (wait for it, wait for it) Tuesday.

Unloved, intermittent, final Collingwood FC report for 2014. Did not make playoffs. Thus, Godwilling, completing the following slide:

2010 Premiers
2011 Lost Grand Finial
2012 Lost Preliminary Final
2013 Lost Elimination final
2014 Did not make finals.

@sdu, do they have relegation in that league?

@steve - mercifully, no.

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