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post #55
bio: kelly

first post
that week

Previous Posts
One hundred
2012 update
keeping up with the young folk
I have a crush on you.

Favorite Things
· water
· Lindor Dark Raspberry Truffles
· frightened rabbit
· Life After Death by Damien Echols
· bad sitcoms with laugh tracks

things that make me happy for $400

My Links
All You Can Eat NYC
The Clint Howard Show

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Golden Girls and what that really means

Do you and your friends tend to share too much? I mean do you find yourself talking about stuff that really seems like it belongs in a commercial (like that not so fresh feeling?). I have been hanging out with the same group of people for the past 3 years and after touching every topic (from hygiene to clothing to sex) there isn't much we haven't talked about. When out at bars we tend to end up being the "loud" group, so we have come up with a coding system for certain topics. Example is if you got lucky (that means SEX) then you caught and episode of "The Facts Of Life." If the sex was good (i.e. orgasm) it then happened to be an episode with George Clooney (he was actually on that show you know). WOW, I can remember the last time I saw "The Facts Of Life" I think George was in 3 scenes. Anyway, I am getting off the topic.

The originator of these code words was my friend Tricia. Our first problem was gas. (For some reason we tend to have a lot of it lately - I think it's because we are older or we just eat too much Mexican.) When you pass gas (or fart), you simply say "Golden Girl" to let the person you are with (or near) know it was you and to step away quickly if they can. This is all to keep us lady like when out in public and we are usually quite proud to say "Golden Girl" when the occasion arises (93.64% of the time the farts are odorless).

So last Friday night I was out with a few friends celebrating my newfound employment. We were at the Bull's Head Tavern on 3rd Ave and 23rd Street. Tricia and I were sitting at the bar when this 28-year-old slightly drunk boy came over to talk to us. His name was Mike and he is an IT guy for the NY Times. I honestly don't care that I am giving out all this information about him because if you know this boy you should call him FARTBOY. I swear he turned around to talk to his friends behind us and his back was to us and the bar all of a sudden I get a whiff of something nasty and I look at Tricia waiting to hear her say "Golden Girl" all I got was her looking at me to say the same. The only other person this smell could have come from was Mike. So I tap him on the shoulder and asked him if he farted - I mean it was bad I almost was crying and I couldn't breathe (unless it was through my shirt). He said no; then was saying if you smelt it, you dealt it but he had to turn around to talk to us at that point all of his friends got a whiff of the smell. Now there is about 10 people all gasping for air. Mike had run away like a little girl and then 5 min later sent someone over to tell us it wasn't him and that it must have been us. OK I would be so proud if I had a fart with that much attention but it wasn't me and it wasn't Tricia. About 15 min later when the smell was gone and all had calmed down Mike came back and brought the smell back with him I had to ask him if he crapped his pants because DAMN IT WAS THAT BAD! I bet if you took a look at his underwear there would have been a hole where the fart came through. It was bad!

FARTBOY if you are reading this next time take it outside!

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