A little humor

Who doesn't need a little humor in their life, right?  I mean, we can all use something else to laugh about...to smile about; and if it's at the expense of someone who is willing to put it all out there...well, even better.

The other night, Q and I went to Creston and met Kathy, Jackie, Zach and Lynn for dinner at the Pizza Ranch.  We were having a good ole time talking about everything under the sun.  Laughing at things we probably shouldn't be laughing at and well, then it got around to telling stories.  

And who doesn't like a good fart story???  Well, I have 'em, don't you worry!  If there's anything I'm good at without even trying...it's passing gas.  Cutting the cheese.  Ripping ass.  

One night, Q and I had went through the drive-thru of a Burger King and of course, I always get onion rings.  They are my biggest weakness in life.  I truly love them.  So, Q places his order next and asks what is on their angus burger.  I don't know why I always include this part in the story but I just think it's hilarious.  "We don't have angus burgers here."  I giggle and tell him that's McDonalds that sells those.  "Well, what's this thing on the menu then?"  Oh boy, I forgot to put his reading glasses on him this morning.  "Angry burger?" comes the reply from the menu board.  Of course that was it.  Can't wait till he gets his new glasses hehehe.

So he orders his angry burger and proceeds to order onion rings and iced tea.  Neither of which he plans to eat.  He tells me that I can have his onion rings and iced tea.  I'm not even going to say a word because that was the best present he could have given me.  I do love those things.  

Now.....I need to interject here with some pretty personal information.  As much as I love onion rings and smile the whole time...the onion rings don't have the same love for me.  

So....several hours later...we are home and I am tired.  It had been a long, emotional day for us and I needed to sleep.  I go upstairs to bed and am laying there, when it hits me...yup, and it came out with teeth.  Long, sharp, gnarly teeth.  Ready to bite at the first thing that gets in it's way.  After about 10 minutes of this living nightmare, I text Q, who is downstairs....."You can come upstairs and watch tv if you want."  He doesn't get this option very often so he takes advantage whenever he can.  I hear his footrest go down on his recliner.  I hear him let the dogs out to go potty before coming to bed.  

Then I hear him coming up the stairs.  And Buddy runs in and jumps on the bed and immediately gets under the blankets.  I say to Q, "You might want to grab the air freshener before you come in."  HE WAS WARNED FOLKS!  It was too late though.  He was bitten by the teeth.  "What the hell is going on in here?  What died?"

Remember those onion rings you said I could have?

I figured it wouldn't be long before Buddy would come crawling out, blue from lack of air...after all, he IS under the blankets with me...snuggled up to my backside...but he didn't.  I'm not sure if he was just passed out under there, or if he thought if he waited long enough, onion rings would come out the shoot!  

Of course, when I told this story to Beth at work, she nearly busted a gut laughing.  She couldn't breathe herself and she wasn't even at my house to smell it!!!  She can't pass up a good fart story so I try to keep her in stitches whenever possible.

When I was telling this story at Pizza Ranch though, the whole table of us just busted out laughing so hard that I'm pretty sure we cleared the place...again, not from any smell...but from our loud, boisterous laughing.  In tears, Lynn says she loves this family.  I'm not sure she knows what she's getting into but.........heck, the more the merrier.

My first husband and I were laying in bed one night and I ripped one of the loudest, most obnoxious farts in my life.  Carlos, the first husband, jumped out of bed and swung open the closet door so fast that I didn't understand what he was doing.  "What is going on?"  He is jumping around the room like a monkey by now.  "Someone is in the closet.  Did you hear it?"  Well by the end of that sentence I have laughed myself off the bed and onto the floor...gasping for air as I assured him nobody was in the house with us, just my butt telling stories behind my back.  

And I haven't lived that one down yet.  Of course, he couldn't wait to tell it at the next family dinner.  My family is so twisted!  

Again...loud, obnoxious laughter coming from our table.  More people are moving away from us.  

I think what started this whole stinkin' conversation was me telling a story that a co-worker had shared.  He and his wife were in the Fareway store one afternoon.  He had the day off from work and had taken her into town to do some shopping.  This is as he tells it:

"There we were standing in line and every person in that damn store was a woman.  All but me.  The checkers were women.  The baggers were women.  And every other damn customer in that store was a woman.  I didn't think too much of it until I realized...at the same time all these other women realized...that my wife had ripped a SBD (silent but deadly).  She is just standing there cool as cucumber and every woman in that place looked at me as if to say "Well you dirty, nasty pig!  How rude!"  We were no further than 2 steps out that door when my wife busted a gut.  I told her to get her stinky ass in the truck, we were going home!  She can do her own shopping from now on because I doubt they are going to let ME back in there anytime soon!"

Oh yes, I do love a good fart story.  I have a million of them.  

The reason I am even writing this stinking blog is because during conversation with the group, I said my blogs had been pretty serious lately and I need to get back to the humor of it all.  Quintin pipes up with "Write about me petting Budha the other night in bed."  And if you know my husband, you know he doesn't talk softly.  So everyone in the place...without being too noticable about it...was on the edge of their seat, to hear the story.

I had been home that night and Q came home from work about 07:00.  When he got into bed, I woke up enough to have a conversation about how his night was, even though my eyes weren't yet open.  So there we were, just laying in the bed, talking.  All of a sudden, Q says very loudly, "Dammit Budha, I'm going to get you a collar because this whole time I have been rubbing what I thought was your head, was your balls!"  

Pizza flew everywhere and all the kids' eyes in the place were the size of half-dollars.  Not sure how any of us stayed upright on our chairs but I know tears were shed.  And that's when Lynn suggested maybe I should blog about something funny like farts.  

It's never dull when I'm in a group.  Never.  Maybe we should get together sometime soon and have dinner.  Whaddya think???