..but I guess it really was only three and a half hours ago when I let one rip in yoga.
"Upper body to the right..."
I spent the next 5 long minutes smirking and chuckling to myself, while praying that my gastro intestinal tract doesn't defy my wishes again. I did not make eye contact with anyone and kept my head down. I could sense that the people behind me (did I mention that I was in the front of the class beside the instructor?) shielding themselves as if I could shoot a stream of gas at will towards a nostril I've pre-selected.
You have to come to expect that though. I mean c'mon, months and months of attendance and you expect me to have a perfect record in the flatulance department? Unlikely.
Like when shit hits a fan, I thought of a past conversation:
"Would 1000 schmegma make 1 schgigma?"
And I laughed some more. You might've thought that laughing gas was coming out of my ass. Personally, I was just thankful that it wasn't a turtle head.
To supplement this post, I've cut and paste a conversation in it's unedited entirety (save for the other person's msn handle) just prior to yoga:My notebook is set to another time zone, hence the AM.[02:31:18 AM] dalton©: I know...it's fun
[02:31:28 AM] dalton©: hey bbl
gotta head to yoga
[02:31:31 AM] A------: cya
[02:31:33 AM] dalton©: I have wicked gas
[02:31:37 AM] A------: great...
[02:31:37 AM] dalton©: this is going to totally rock
[02:31:38 AM] dalton©: lol
[02:31:43 AM] * dalton© now Away