Everybody Farts

Sana

When the meal is huge and the dessert,
the dessert is yours alone,
When you're sure you've had enough of the beef,
Well hang on
Don't let yourself go,
'cause everybody farts and everybody poops sometimes
Well, everybody farts sometimes,
Everybody poops.
And everybody hurts sometimes
And everybody (also) constipates sometimes.
So, hold on, hold on
Hold on, hold on, hold on,
hold on, hold on, hold on,
Everybody farts. You are not alone.

So this ladies and gentlemen is the post which celebates *glint in eye for brilliant typo* the return of the champions of the cause of the poor souls who live their life hoping that one day would come when the hot chick in office would lose her top in a fit of rage against irritating co-workers who keep staring at their LCDs with mouth agape at the audacious literature they come across in useless blogs!

The sand in the vagina (refer to my own personal blog for more details on this... *shameless pushing of personal agendas*) of few corrupt beaurocrats has been sent to the beach and life in the happy land of blogs is back on track. Yippee.

And now we (that would be me and the conscientious alterego dying of immense boredom it gets subjected to by not so little evil me... muahahahahah) present to you in all his guts and glory... THE JUN A.K.A THE (woo)MAN A.K.A THE FARTSALOT A.K.A ITSNOTFUNNYNOMOREBIYAATCH

Jun

The thing with Women is, they're weird. There's women and then there's women. There's those who look at you like you just stepped on their little toe and splashed mucky water all over their brand new pink polka dot dress. Then there's those who'd punch you in the face for it. And then there's those who'd frisk your motionless body and flick your wallet.

What I'm trying to say is (apart from "GET OFF THE EFFING CAPS LOCK") that men should really put their foot down and make it known that just because you bleed from your onegina, you don't have the right to demand attention, chocolate and people who understand poor grammer. Especially the last one.

On a wholly unrelated but related note, we've been lazy okay. It's not easy typing so much, so fast, without care for man, beast or the feelings of those poor African children your parents keep ranting about when you don't eat stupid bhindi. It's an ugly vegetable okay!

However, as with all stupid promises (like "I'll donate my eyes after I die"... I mean, what the f*** dude!) there will be updates sooner, better and with further inaccurate references to fictitious professors you want to kill (one tiny little finger at a time) because they gave you a B- for your goddamn Dissertation Concept Note.

The world is always to blame.
And stale bread pudding is always to be avoided.
Trust me.
*not*