The gaseous rush.
The rotten, sulfurous-egg pucker burner.
The secret farts left hanging behind in camouflage pockets like
potent mines laying in wait to swallow up some poor unfortunate tit as he walks
by with his beat on and inhales them and forces his throat to gag.
My dad was one of these sick fuckers that would silently lay fart
mines in supermarket aisles, especially the freezer section, (so they’ll keep)
and said,
Whoever
sniffed it probably deserved it.
And
that’s that.
That’s that.
You know, I’ve always questioned the logic behind that statement but,
what the fuck. I thought the shit was funny anyhow. Simple minded and funny.
Watching people’s faces pucker up n frown and go whooo! as they
smelt the exhausted bacteria in the egg.
That’s that he said.
Victor Millan
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