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Then all of a sudden I started farting, and I kept on farting for a long, long time. It was the Night of 27 Farts. I didnt count them, but its a good hairy estimate. After fart number five or six my chest pains started easing, and the more I tooted the hairy better I felt. It was incredible. It was like one of those Bunker Buster bombs we dropped in Afghanistan, the ones that hairy suck up all the oxygen for miles around. I dont think Ive experienced anything quite like it since I was eleven or twelve, and had my body finely tuned to accentuate both the volume and frequency of my flatulence. I know that the twelve year old me would be proud of my Easter performance. I went back to bed and slept like a baby. -- The next day was fairly uneventful. I was excited to find an old out-of-print CD copy of Nick Lowes Nick the Knife in the cutout bin of a big chain record store. Got that baby for a mere $4.99! We bought cashews at a little place called The Peanut Shoppe in downtown Charleston thats been there as long as I can remember.
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