"If I can lift you up when you're down, I would have done a very good job! Thank you for dropping by."



Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Beware of baked beans

This anecdote, received in 2008, has got to be the funniest ever e-mailed to me.  The decision to post this fictitious tale wasn't easy as it touches on a rather sensitive subject.  What made me decide to share it is the Randy Jackson (American Idol judge) phrase that echoed in my head:  "Just keeping it real." 

If anyone feels disgusted after reading this, my apologies.  But if it brings a chuckle to your day, you have my appreciation.

Baked Beans

One day I met a sweet gentleman and fell in love.  When it became apparent that we would marry, I made the supreme sacrifice and gave up beans.

Some months later, on my birthday, my car broke down on the way home from
work.  Since I lived in the countryside I called my husband and told him that I would be late because I had to walk home.  On my way, I passed by a small diner and the odor of baked beans was more
than I could stand. With miles to walk, I figured that I would walk off any ill effects by the time I reached home, so I stopped at the diner and before I knew it, I had consumed three large orders of baked beans.  All the way home, I made sure that I released all the gas.

Upon my arrival, my husband seemed excited to see me and exclaimed delightedly:
"
Darling I have a surprise for dinner tonight."

He then blindfolded me and led me to my chair at the dinner table. I took
a seat and just as he was about to remove my blindfold, the telephone rang.  He made me promise not to touch the blindfold until he returned and went to answer the call.

The baked beans I had consumed were still affecting me and the pressure
was becoming most unbearable, so while my husband was out of the room I
seized the opportunity, shifted my weight to one leg and let one go. It was not only loud, but it smelled like a fertilizer truck running over a skunk in front of a pulpwood mill.  I took my napkin from my lap and fanned the air around me vigorously.

Then, shifting to the other cheek, I ripped off three more.  The stink
was worse than cooked cabbage.
Keeping my ears carefully tuned to the conversation in the other room, I went on like this for another few minutes.

The pleasure was indescribable. When eventually the telephone farewells
signaled the end of my freedom, I quickly fanned the air a few more
times with my napkin, placed it on my lap and folded my hands back on it feeling very relieved and pleased with myself.

My face must have been the picture of innocence when my husband returned,
apologizing for taking so long.  He asked me if I had peeked through the blindfold, and I assured him I had not.

At this point, he removed the blindfold, and twelve dinner guests seated
around the table chorused: "Happy Birthday!"

I fainted!!!!!!!!!!!!!!