Pink Slips and Stinky Poots

Edited to Add: If you are under the impression that I am an intelligent writer, or an academic personality then #1) Where did you get THAT idea? and #2) Please dont read any further, I’d hate to degrade myself in your eyes.

MrZ and I went to TGIFridays for lunch and had the Atkins Friendly Garlic Chicken. This is the ensuing conversation as he drove me back to my office.

MrZ: That chicken was so good.

Me: I agree. Not going to do wonders for my breath though.

MrZ: Yeah, and my office is going to be fumigated this afternoon.

Me: It is?

MrZ: Why Yes. Because the Fumigator? Is my bottom. That Garlic Chicken is going to totally make me do the stinky-poots in my office. He He He.

Me: OHMIGOD. You are so weird. And Gross. Ew. Garlic Poots are going to be trapped in your office. Remind me not to come by for at least a week. And also? You should probably not let anyone else come into your office, they may find that to be a good cause to fire you.

MrZ: He He He. I’m soo getting fired because of my stinky garlic poots.

Me: Well, it was only time. It was either going to be your stinky garlic poots OR your rancid broccoli burps.

MrZ: Good Point. But those broccoli burps dont linger though, not like the garlic poots do

Me: Either way. You can only cover up your stench with your talent so long before the odor breaks through and they decide they’ll lose the talent to preserve the air quality of the building.

MrZ: Yep. Maybe I’ll just close the door to my office all afternoon and no one will ever know.

Me: Yeah – until they find your rotting corpse. Cause of Death: Suffocated by own Flatulence.

MrZ: Yeah, but it would be a fitting end to my life.

Me: Yep. You live by the poot, you die by the poot. Thats what I always say.

What? Sometimes my husband brings out the 10 yr old boy in me. Lucky for you LittleZ wasnt part of the conversation, there is no telling where it would have gone then.

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