Dear Friends in my Office Who Sit in the Same Room as I Do,
I want to apologize to you guys right now for getting Fartaburger for lunch. I know, I know--it's not like I don't know what will happen, but every time I contemplate getting into the drive-thru queue, I think, "Maybe this time will be different. Maybe this time I can enjoy a delicious hamburger with bacon, cheese and grilled onions and not experience massive seismic activity in my lower intestine." Of course, those maybes pour the foundation of wholly unrealistic hopes. I hear alcoholics use this reasoning as part of their denial, that maybe they can have a scotch or two and not drink their way into having blacked-out sex with someone's pill-billied grandmother, and that realizing the fallacy of this logic is a step towards sobriety.
Well, I'm not addicted to Whataburger; in fact, I don't even like it that much, but sometimes it just sounds irresistable. I just want you guys to know that I'm sorry. I know better, and I'll be sure to remember this letter the next time I cruise by that soaring orange W. Hopefully, I will keep cruising. Also know that as I spend the rest of the afternoon blasting away, I will do my utmost to spare you all the noxious fallout and drill them into my chair.
Your Friend,
--The Robo-Pirate
4 comments:
Perhaps jst hit up the beacon in the night, at night. But thanks for sharing LOL.
isn't the whole idea of continually repeating a certain behavior and expecting a different result one of the accepted definitions of insanity?
i say who cares because A.) farts are ALWAYS funny and B.) they ALWAYS will be.
i constantly eat stuff that i know is gonna wail on my insides later and hope such is not the case (even though it always is.) eat what you like, aim for the center of your seat, and try not to shift your weight for 5-6 minutes after.
Hi. My name is Steve, and I'm a fartaholic.
Call a spade a spade, I guess.
laughing makes me fart-
farting makes me laugh-
vicious circle of flatulence
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