Snow Fart and the 7 TMI's

I received two blogging awards recently - I'm not much on formality and rules so I'll sorta play in my own way...

The Versatile Blogger came to me courtesy of Crystal over at Crystal's a Pistol. I'm supposed to tell you seven things about me that you wouldn't know. Granted as I've only been blogging for a little while, there is PLENTY of material here, but I shall be selective and hopefully avoid the watchful eyes of the NSA and IRS...

1. I'm old enough that many of my "skills" are totally outdated, e.g. I can develop and print my own Black and White pictures (have my own darkroom equipment still).

2. In high school we were the first group to dress up (ballsy) when attending the midnight showings of Rocky Horror. 

3. My favorite craft/hobby/skill is working with glass. I LOVE making stained glass creations. 

4. I also can make my own glass beads with a torch - although after the fire, I'm not so jazzed about "playing with fire."

5. I am the youngest of three and married the oldest of four and we have two. 

6. I am a fantastic jigsaw puzzler. If you could make money solving them, I would be rich.

7. Don't try to outfish me. I beat all of the boys when fishing - especially in the surf.

So, pretty boring and random - but now you REALLY know me, right? 

You are gonna unfollow me in a minute if you haven't already...

The next "award" came from Sherilin over at Laughing My Abs Off. I'm supposed to share a fart story. I got this lovely honor on the day that I posted a fart story, but I told her that I would attempt to "squeeze out" another one for her. So, Sherilin, this fart's for you:

This is from my youth (meaning last week, of course). 

I came home for winter break my freshman year of college and during that time really needed to see the eye doctor. My mom drove, as we all know how eye doctors go to school specifically to learn how to blind us all with painful eye drops. We lived out in the boonies and the doctor's office was in town in a very old house that had been converted into an office.

We were sitting in the waiting room when I felt my bowels do a backward double flip with two and a half twists. This was gonna be bad. I tried to let out a tester to see how serious the collateral damage would be. By the horrified look on my mom's face I knew that I needed to hoof it to the bathroom. It was cold and small and had a thin door that I knew would not be much sound insulation, and I needed to hurry and get back out before my appointment.

Well, the gas sounds reverberated around that small space and then the violent diarrhea ensued. There was no stopping it no matter what sphincter voodoo I performed. At least, I thought, that is probably it - there can't be more. So I flush. Only the toilet doesn't.

I stood there with a huge mess and vile smell knowing that anyone near the door knows EXACTLY what I just did. I start to panic wondering if the pipes were frozen from the winter cold. There was NO WAY I was going to leave that bathroom and ask anybody to help, and I couldn't just walk out and pretend I did nothing. The sounds had given me away.

So, I take the tank lid off and proceed to see if I can heal what ails the doctor's toilet. The water in that tank was ICE cold but I dunked my hands in with fury. The doodad wasn't connected to the thingamajig and once I did the loopdedoop with the hooky thing and tried the handle, it worked! It still smelled to high heaven in there, but there wasn't any evidence to do the DNA matching with now.

I walked back into the waiting room and my mother started up with the "What took you so long" diatribe. But she had to stop as I was called back for my appointment. Managing to keep my butt cheeks clenched tight, I made it through the exam and back to the car where I let all hell loose out of my ass. The windows went down, and as I told my mother of my plumbing adventures we both laughed as the freezing winter air tried to deodorize her car.

But that wasn't the end of our adventures. She could tell that I was in terrible and very real stomach distress and pain (wonder what could have given her that idea?). So since the drive home was over 30 minutes she kept trying to get me to agree to stop at one of her friends' houses to use the restroom. Can you say "Horrified?!?" I had just repaired someone else's toilet and she wants me to stop and ask some innocent person if I can run quickly through their house and defile their commode! I would have rather crapped my pants. So we kept driving with me hugging my guts, farting, and laughing to the point of crying at my own pain.

She does convince me to allow her to stop at a pharmacy where her next door neighbor worked. He quickly signed over a bottle of some kind of Kao with opiates in it to stop all of the partying in my bowels. Relief in a bottle and it was half way to my own bathroom!

We got to the house and I ran in to continue my gas-capades leaving my mother with the bottle o' magic. When I emerge, she is standing there with a grimace because she cannot open the childproof cap. NOOOOOO! Not the miracle elixir that tastes like crap but stops the craps!! I figure I'll just bust the baby open - I'm young. 

It. Won't. Open...

Horrified, we call the pharmacist. We get a lesson over the phone of how to cut off the outer cap and infiltrate the bottle. A couple of knives and some scissors later and I have my medicine.

Even now, when I see those wicked childproof caps, I think of this day.