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Thursday, January 5, 2017

True Story©... Sometimes the World Must Suffer

True Story©…

Sometimes it is solely my decision that the world needs to suffer.

                I’m sure a great many of the two of you are inclined to want to ask “how, Phillip?” and I am here to tell you just how in somewhere between 4 and 700 words.
As my woman continues to try to starve me to health I get a full slate of things like green vegetables, various forms of yogurt and very little in the way of junk food these days.  With that said, I am regular as they come and quite often gassy.  I try to be mindful of small spaces that I will have to stay in without ventilation, but anywhere else is up to the limits of my imagination and mood as it relates to public safety.

                One time in Wal Mart with Mimi, I went to the bathroom to pee and there were these four kids waiting on their mother at Online Pickup.  Anyone who walked by them, they made a fart noise and giggled.  Well, when I came back out of the bathroom, I had saved a silent-but-deadly to slowly leave with them as I walked back to the grocery section.  I couldn’t hang out for their response to it, but I imagine it smelled like death.

                One time in Costco with my mom, she was taking a long time and a friend of mine and I were getting restless and silly (which tends to happen when we have to stick to something more than a couple of minutes.
“Hey mama, wanna hear something funny?”
“what”
*loud fart*
I swear I heard someone three aisles over heard it and chuckled.  Mom, on the other hand, turned beet red even though it was only me her and John on the aisle we were on.

                When mom was in the hospital summer before last, I got on the elevator on the first floor, didn’t press any buttons, farted and got off and took the stairs up.  Unfortunately this left me unable to wait and witness the aftermath, but this was right in the middle of my birthday celebration month, so I KNOW it had to have been heinous.  I think they roped that end of Wake Forest Baptist off for a week.

                One time I was trying to park at Wal Mart, this woman in a beat-to-shit minivan stole my space despite my signal being on.  Rather than road rage and curse her out on the spot, I found another space and went on into the store.  I proceeded to wait for her to be in an aisle that I would need to be on, got about 10 feet ahead of her and left her a rancid bouquet.  I then looked RIGHT at her and dared her to say something.

                One time in Toys R Us, there was this little boy who couldn’t have been older than three, had on a pullup and was GOING OFF in the store, just screaming away.  Apparently he had not gotten what he wanted from his mother and was not having that.  I positioned myself at the end of the aisle they were coming down and fiddled with a couple of things on a shelf to give me time to squeeze out an SBD and moved to where I could hear the aftermath.  When she arrived to the spot, she SWORE her son had shit his pants and anyone within AT LEAST 50 feet had to have heard her anger to tell the story about it.  I wish I could have hung around after she took him to the bathroom and DIDN’T find anything and eventually then made eye contact with me again, but I left.


I think y’all get it by now.
Revenge situations, annoying teenagers, crowded dancefloors, bad-ass kids, fits of boredom…  ALL of these can be rectified with the application of a little flatulence.  When around equally immature people, it becomes an unspoken competition on who can do it louder than anyone else.  Hell, at that point it is more of a “jumping” to the intended victim when you can get another person or two in on it.


                But why…  Why do I do this?
Hell, I don’t know.  I guess some people just want to see the world burn.
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