Road Trip!

If there is one thing that I learned this weekend, it is that it isn’t really a road trip until someone cuts a silent fart so foul that you have to pull the car over and run away. You know what I’m talking about - the kind of fart that makes you accuse your car-mate of sticking the Necronomicon up their ass so that their colon could open a portal to hell to release a dark lord of hellfire.

All I’m saying is that if you release Cthulu from your bowels, you should roll down your own window. It’s a safety issue. The driver’s vision could be obscured by the brown fog.

P.S.: It was my mom, and it doesn’t have anything to do with what happened later, I just needed to cleanse my palate.

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