Blog for One

From FLOG

In Bavaria, public farting is A-OK.

“…While strolling through a town square so freakin’ quaint it would make anybody’s grandmother moist, Spc. Mike laid an enormous fart just as a clutch of elderly Bavarian fraus walked past. It was the kind of fart that had a theme and variations; hell, it had several movements. It was the sort of fart that made it loud and clear that the fartier would soon have to induce vomiting, because he had far more numerous and varied meats sloshing around his beer-blasted stomach than a non-Bavarian should attempt. Truly A-1 material.

The old fraus gasped a bit and shook their heads, clucking “nein, nein, nein” at us. We expected an unintelligible public shaming. Instead, one of them cut loose with three melodic toots of her own — “fwoot fwoot fwooooot” right out the back end of a traditional Bavarian dress. Un. Freakin. Believable. We laughed hard, but in truth we were humbled. Bavaria is truly the match for any High Life Man.”

I’ve been on vacation for the past couple of weeks. I’ve intentionally kept away from my blog to allow myself some time to deal with Caroline’s death.

Since then, I’ve been in the Montreal Dragon Boat Festival where we placed about middle of the pack.

So now, I’ll be digging up my key-cards and dusting off the laptop to head back to work on Monday.