Geeky Talks
And a parachute
I admit I’m a wee bit preoccupied with things of the uterus, gagging, farts and boobs (mostly mine). You wouldn’t think this would be the prerequisite for the line, “which reminds me of that time…” but it is. Did I ever tell you about that time… (stop me if you heard this)...
One Thanksgiving a long long time ago, perhaps 15 years or so, The Pre-Flinger Family were in Salem (that’s in Oregon.. pronounce OR-GAN) visiting the Ancient Flingers. As it was, the Ancient Flinger’s home was booked full of relatives so the Pre-Flinger Family stayed in a hotel. Oma Flinger was so enjoying her time with Ancient Flingers that Pappa Flinger and I decided to head back to the hotel early with my sister to catch some TV and relax without the old people chatter. (You know how you really care about old people chatter at 16? Or 42 if they’re not your parents?)
So there we are in the hotel, Pappa Flinger, my sister and myself. Now, Pappa Flinger had some bad gas. Like Paint-Peeling gas. Like “OH MY GOD I AM GOING TO PASS OUT” gas. You think pregnancy gas is bad? This is gagging power without high levels of HCG and Estrogen causing your nose to inhale at 500% maximum power. The man could work for the CIA as a natural toxin. He’s proud of this fact.
As I recall, the gas was horrid that night at the hotel. In fact, it was so horrid we opened up the window in between yelling, “Dadddd! GROSS!” The heavy hotel drapes weren’t letting enough of the sub 40’s air in, though, so I took off my bra and tied the drapes with it to allow more air in. That’s right, Internet, I tied my 38 Double D, pre-breast-reduction bra around the curtains to let in air.
About thirty minutes later Oma comes in laughing so loud we heard her coming down the hall. “What’s so funny?” we ask her. Between her gulps and giggles she spits out, “I didn’t have to ask which hotel room was ours. I pulled up, saw the braw around the curtains and knew where to go.”
And that’s the story I thought of today as I fished in the back of my closet for the 38 double D I’m now wearing around my huge pregnant boobs with the farting and the gagging. ‘Cause really, it all comes back to you when you fish out your drapery-tying parachute.
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Good gravy! (Maybe a little too good?) The only person that has every literally stunk me out of the house is my sister…and I’m pretty certain my double A’s wouldn’t have fit around any curtains. ; )
I’m impressed with your MacGyver like skills!
HAHAHAHA Great memory!
If it makes you feel better, I wear a 30-32 DDD (F).
See… just one more thing we have in common—I had a breast redux from 38DD’s too! Wayyyyyyy back in the day tho. Funny story… years later, after losing a bunch of weight (okay, after being anorexic/bulimic for 12 years), I got implants! Tell me who’s the freakiest internet/reader/pal you’ve got??? Huh? Huh? ME!!!!!
I have been blessed with a husband whose farts HONESTLY do not smell. I don’t know how I got this good fortune, only that I give thanks for it on a regular basis.
(Oh, and I have the rare ability to hold my farts until they reabsorb or backflow into my brain. Clever, huh?)
Oh, I forgot… I LOVE the snowman! He’s adorable!
OMG ! You are so funny ! Great story!
When you told me you wrote a post about your boobs, I had no idea it would come to this. I’m trying not to laugh too hard—I’ll wake the monster.
I heard the greatest quote about farting this weekend - when asked why this guy didn’t notice how bad his gas smelled, he replied, “Well, you never think your own kid is ugly.” It still cracks me up when I think about it. (That was on the new show Rob & Big on MTV, which is pretty hilarious.)
My husband says I fart like a man..it borders on embarrassing..but I also have a hard time trying to calm down the laughter to be embarrassed about it. Horray for pregnancy gas! Oy.
LOL!
Hey, I was searching for “38DD ” - ah forget it.
I’m intrigued by the “mostly mine” qualifier.