After the last "heavy" posting, as one of my friends called it, I felt that I should put some yin in there with the yang.
I bought six fart machines.
Sam, who is staying with us for a week or so, had a conversation last night with Stephanie that went something like this:
Sam: "So what's it like being married to a man who buys fart machines in bulk?"
Stephanie: "Actually...he bought them for me." (Stephanie teaches middle school.)
Sam: "I retract the question."
So this morning Sam tells me about the conversation and asks me, "So what's it like being married a woman who wants fart machines in bulk? My answer: "It's a helluva lot of fun."
I really feel sorry for the kids in her classes today, It's going to be total carnage. The fifteen farts are all good stuff, really different from each other. Gourmet farts. I don't know who the fart model was, but they were quite talented. The addition of the sub-woofer to the unit (I am not kidding) makes them resonate nicely.
So as you see, I am not always Mr. Philosophical.
P.S. Yes, I gave one to Weidman. Against my better judgement. Nancy hates it that I gave him one, which is probably behind my subconscious desire to do it.
13 hours ago