I was talking to my sister karmajones tonight and we got a bad case of the giggles. I popped the button on my jeans and had to change my underwear when all was said and done.
It started when she asked how things were going with my new boyfriend. I told her I was talking to him on the phone the other night when I farted really loud. I thought I could get away with it because his hearing is kind-of bad in one ear. Unfortunately his good ear was pressed to the receiver.
“What was that?” he asked.
“Oh,….that…..was…just me moving some furniture,” I ingeniously explained.
“It sounded like a cow just died,” he replied.
This is when the gut-bustin’ began.
It only got worse when Karma told me that she was sitting in her cubicle at work one day when she farted, but the fart somehow got sucked into her, shall we say, "feminine cavern" because of the way she was sitting. She was distracted and didn’t stop to ponder the whereabouts of her missing fart. Later, when she stood up, the fart came loudly flapping out. A co-worker across the way whipped her head around and gave my sister the dirty look she deserved.
We both lost it big-time. I couldn’t breathe for several minutes and my bladder control was rapidly weakening. When I finally regained control I asked her if she had ever heard of a book called, “The Hollow Chocolate Bunnies of the Apocalypse*.”
Well, apparently this question sucked us both into the undertow of uncontrollable hysterics, again! Every 15 seconds or so a wallop of sound escaped from my throat. I was crippled, in severe pain and gettin’ all doped up on some kind of laughter endorphins at the same time. I know it must have sounded like someone was beating a baby seal to death in my apartment, but there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it!
*That's a real book I tell you!