One. Maybe two. But FOUR?! I don't get what changed.
Remember the sparkly warkly lovely eggs I wrote about for Easter?
Well, today the twain have met. He ate those glittery old eggs we were throwing out. I woke up this morning and found six eggshells daintily hollowed out and clean, and one bad doggy who didn't even get up to say hello.
And now...the gas hits. Stabb is on the couch watching television with his shirt pulled up over his nose. I cannot describe how bad, how terribly terribly bad old easter egg dog farts are. The sheer magnitude of bad has destroyed all poetic license, will, and skill.
Must. Open. Window. Please, send help.
I am almost helpless with giggles over here ....
One of my cats, Molly (the daintiest one, of course) has a kitty self defense mechanism she deploys a every opportunity.
You startle her - she farts.
You pick her up - she farts.
One of the cats picks on her - she farts.
You raise your voice at her - she farts.
See a trend?
She can fart on command! Her farts (and where does such a tiny thing GET so much gas?!) are the epitome of cat-ass-ness.
They ... waft.
I feel your pain, Joli ... but I am still helpless with giggles.
Go to a National Guard Depot. Tell them of the killing odor....sure they have gas mask you two can use. Still... hahahhahahhaha.
oh *giggle* I fee *snicker* feel *hahaha* your pain. *busts out laughing*
Bet that put you off on eggs for a while, huh?
Oh, and you guys are my friends? Thanks...grumble grumble...ohgodnotagain...chokegasp... how long can this go on?!
So we're blaming the dog again :-P
I take it you've encountered something able to eclipse "MAN SWEAT" then?
Between man sweat and doggy wind, I'm beginning to feel a bit outgunned.
Maybe homeland security needs to check out Meatball :p
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