I'm back after an absence. PS thanks to the dick who for some reason thought this particular blog indicated I wanted an online dating service. Dork.
Today .. a change in direction for the blog. No longer will it be rantings of an Achaean. Well actually it will 'coz Yeebok will always be Achaean but that's not what I mean so ner. S'gunna be 'bout anyfink man. And today well .. let's tell the story I guess.
First up not that you need to know but it's kinda relevant .. I sleep starkers. Yes birthday suit, nude whatever. Now that you're over that (hopefully brief) visual basically I got up this morning to make a cuppa - I wandered out filled the kettle and whacked it on. I then realised that the curtains were open. In the 'I just woke up fuggof' haze I have before I get some coffee I figured I'd just sit on the floor.
Anyway (now this is also relevant but you don't need to know but I'm telling you anyway so shut up already right) the floor in the kitchen is linoleum (or lino for you luddites). After a moment I felt the familiar "hey the systems up let's open the exhausts' rumbling so I relaxed a bit as you do. Apart from being reasonably cold this and I guess any other morning lino, among its other useful but relatively benign hidden functions when pressed close to some butt cheeks, someone's date and a few short sharp blasts of wind, has some amazing accoustic qualities. BRAP! BRRRAPP! At this moment in time I had an epiphany if you could call it that (and no you luddites that does not mean I pissed myself) and decided that this blog and quite possibly many other equally shite blogs should be dedicated to the wonderful worlds of highly fermented cabbage, beans and eggs, various similar noises and quite imaginatively odours.
But at 6:30am when you've just dropped your guts in the kitchen which sounded like a shotgun at close range and you are actually in danger of pissing yourself because you're laughing so hard, I found yet another use for lino - it brings out the little inquisitive boy that I believe exists in all of us. So you guessed it, I let rip with the remainder of the less intrusive side of my stomach's night of work, testing various seating positions and pressures. Obviously there's more variety of inputs (and resulting outputs) than I can possibly hope to cover on my own. That's where you, my faithful blog buddies, come in.
What's your best fart or gross in a similarly childish fashion story ?