Tyrone

His constant taunting, teasing, misleading inuendos…

…and me with 32 days.

I heart him anyway. /sigh

Poot!

My father, while being a fine upstanding member of society as well as a wonderful father and husband, is possibly the foulest man on earth. Let me elaborate…

Men enjoy farting. I think it is genetically programmed for the male of our species to take delight and humor in anything exiting the anus in the form of an odd-sounding and unpleasant smelling gas. They just can’t help it.

While I have found humor in this once or twice, ok maybe I’ll admit to taking great humor in farting on my friends a couple times, (Truth: Pretty girls do fart.) I’ve never plotted out strategic maneuvers to publically expose the gas in my anus, intoxicating those around me, for my own amusement.

My father does just that. He takes great pleasure in sneaking up behind my mother, me or any random unsuspecting female and planting one, walking away and then laughing silently to himself as all the other women in the store glace over with great disgust thinking that it was the gas released by the poor victim of another “Daddy Fart Bomb”. After years of this occurring I have developed lighting-fast ninja reflexes to make a quick “gross-face” and point at the nearest old woman present. While I know that is rude, we have to face the facts here, old people fart more. Most of my female readers will agree that it is easy to blame the elderly for random and unexplained odors.

Another thing my father takes great pleasure in is the meat case at Costco. Imagine, you are shopping for a beautiful package of hamburger or steaks and “BAM” a green cloud of stench invades your nostrils. Shopping experience officially ruined.

If I recall correctly, when I was a small child and my brother was a much smaller and whinier child, my father once held my brother down and farted on him. While this would be considered child abuse in some households apparently my father finds this a gesture of male bonding. My brother on the other hand threw up. I laughed safely from my “quick-escape-spot” on the other end of the room.

Now that my brother is in his early twenties I have found that this fetish is apparently genetic within the Y chromosome. I have made it a point to avoid all family outings that involve my father, my brother and any consumption of potentially gaseous food. I keep Vicks in my purse to rub under my nose to blind the smell for the occasions that I don’t.

Moral of the story: Men fart, women beware.

Note: I love you Daddy & Matty…but seriously guys…point your butts in the opposite direction of where I happen to be located. :)

Message from Oregon

Dear California,

The state of Oregon greatly appreciates your visiting our (insert one of the following here)…

A) Lush, Green Forests
B) Clean, Secluded Beaches
C) Snow-Covered Peaks
D) Beautiful, Wild Rivers

…we would greatly appreciate it if you would please memorize the following guidelines designed to make your visit to Oregon that much more pleasant.

1. If you find it difficult to climb into your RV, than you more than likely should not be driving it.
2. Unmarked logging roads and mountain climbing are dangerous in the middle of winter. You are more than likely going to get lost and die.
3. Don’t pick up ANY Real Estate information or visit any Real Estate establishment while you are here. There is no point as we don’t sell homes to Californians anymore.
4. Appreciate the beauty of Oregon in its entire green splendor. It’s green because we don’t litter. You shouldn’t either.

Thank you for taking this opportunity to visit our great state. Now, if you don’t mind, please go back the way you came and take your shitty oranges with you.

Thanks,
Oregon