While certainly no
back alley abortion with wire hangers covered in Crisco, the Redskins (from here on out shall be known as the Deadskins) basically gave the Colts the NFL equiv of a homecoming game, right before my very own thighs. It was truly deeply madly a tale of two halves. The first was a thing of fragile beauty, capped by that Antwaan Randle El punt return for a TD. Unfortch the second half was a tale more worthless than
An American Tail 2: Fievel Goes West. If only the Deadskins had the talent and soul of a James Ingram and Linda Ronstadt duet (‘
Somewhere Out There‘ [
d]). But to be purrfectly honest, the Skins weren’t the stankiest stank of the weekend. That honor belongs to my arse, who on Saturday night, in a five hour span, dished out 26+ (not even jokin) room clearing farts. And how did my bowels make such a movement? The state of Indiana is not only filled with an overlode of bumble fork white folk and super hottie blond chicks, but enuff ranch dipping sauce to feed every third, fourth, and fifth world country. Ithinks I ingested more ranch sauce than I did alcohol at
my ye olde university stompin grounds. Thinks? Meknows! And while I was beyond amused by my own odors, others were not. My gay lover
Marwanicure was there to witness the disfitness and described said ass air poofs to a (far)T:
– cream cheese thats been left out of the fridge….for 16 years
– someone slaughtered a horse and then let the meat sit in the sweltering sun for 40 days
– a rotten egg that was eaten and then crapped out by a homeless guy
– roast beef that had been dipped in giraffe vomit
– tuna fish that was eaten, puked up, and then farted on by a dog
Gawd bless America, and the gluish substance that they call ‘ranch sauce’ that made a pooish substance in my pants, from the finiestest za establishment that dontsesnt nathan hail from NYC, Chi-town, STL, Ledo’s, or Italy: Pizza Express, which should be confused with its Indy offshoot that has the bestest use of ‘box’ double entendres: Hot Box Pizza (all dough sadly none are mentioned on their url)
and while you imagine what my ass smelled like, I leave yous with this pic of an IU building sign that someone graffitied with what everyone tallways thinks of when they see it…
12. Feb, 2007 
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