Part Wev in an ongoing series…So…I really need to preface this by saying that we really are two of the silliest, most juvenile douchebrains on the planet—and also that we fell almost immediately upon meeting into a noogietiferous camaraderie that fills Space Cowboy's void of little sisters and my void of brothers, big or otherwise, making this a rather routine conversation, I'm afraid to admit.
SC: You're a big bowl of farts.
Liss: You're a jar of diarrhea.
SC: At least I'm not a bowl of farts.
Liss: At least I'm not a jar of diarrhea.
SC: You smell like a bowl of farts.
Liss: YOU SMELL LIKE A BOWL OF FARTS!
It was then I noticed the kindly old gentleman passing by outside my house, who was looking in the direction of my open office window and probably wondering why the crazy girl was yelling at him that he smells like a bowl of farts.
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