Inverted distortions
and wiping away the balls
Open your door!
Ricky wanted to drive with both doors open again.
My farts were beginning to get to him and he need the air changed as much as possible.
What the fuck did you eat?
Dear reader, it was lamb shank. Greasy delicious lamb shank.
This wouldn’t be the first time that I destroyed a relationship with my flatulence, but I was working on making this one the most glorious.
It’s day 14 and the weather stinks and only seems to be getting shittier.
I’m at war with my driver Ricky.
Well, My arsehole is.
For both dinner last night and lunch today I had lamb.
Lamb makes me fart.
A lot.
So many farts.
In fact, i fart all of the farts.
The quiet ones sneak into the cab and linger.
It wasn’t me!
(I always blame my farts on Ricky even though I KNOW it’s me)
No Jimmy! That was you. You farted.
No I didn’t. That must of been you.
Dear reader, you know this game, this who farted game. We all play it. It is the ultimate game of gaslighting.
Right?
You know these times where be double down and push all of …
