Why are fish so easy to weigh? They have their own scales.
I’m so addicted to honey … I keep breaking into hives.
What do you call a drunk coffee? A-merry-cano.
What happens to a frog’s car when it breaks down? It gets toad away.
What did the big chimney say to the little chimney? ‘You’re too young to smoke.’
WINDY STORY (Part 1 of 3)She was awakened by a horrible sound. She found herself sitting upright in bed, completely disoriented. Had it been a nightmare? Some unspeakably hideous thing had just happened and she struggled mentally to clear the panic from her head and piece together what it was. No, she thought, it wasn't a nightmare. She'd been soundly curled up, lost in a warm and comfortable dreamland when the ear splitting blast had forced her from that state. It had been next to her.
She looked down at him. He was lying prone, next to her on the bed. Her nostrils curled back in disgust as realization hit her. This had been one of his early-morning surprises. Lately, they were happening with increasing frequency. His eyes opened and he groggily looked up at her, an expression of blissful relief upon his face. He focused on her look of shocked repulsion and when he realised that he was the cause, shot her his trademark lunatic grin.
She was not amused.
He rolled over in a slow, almost comical fashion, that might remind one of a bear coming out of hibernation. "God-damn", he sighed, "That was one to remember!"
"That was the most disgusting thing I have ever had the displeasure of having happen to me", she snarled as she moved for the opposite side of the bed. She tried to put as much distance between herself and the source of her disgust as possible, hoping to get away from him before the terrible stench that invariably followed one of his gaseous eruptions permeated her delicate nose.
Too late. Before she even had both feet on the floor, the smell hit her with full force. She choked back nausea and moved to the doorway. It did little to help. Last night before bed, he had wolfed down a triple-fried egg sandwich smothered in chilli sauce washed down with several beers. The post-digestive odor of such a culinary nightmare was not something mere mortals were likely to evade.
She glared at him from behind watering eyes. He was lying on his back, still grinning with pride and satisfaction. He had his fingers interlocked behind his head, elbows pointing out to either side, enjoying the warm feeling his flatulence always left him with. This wasn't just the inner-peace that came with a great accomplishment, this was actual tangible warmth. A glance at the windows proved it. The glass was completely fogged up from the sudden rise in temperature and humidity. "I think you need to see a doctor or something. This is the third morning this week that I've been rudely awakened by your gas!"
"Are you kidding?", he said, enjoying her reaction almost as much as the satisfying feat that had prompted it, "Nothing brings more pleasure into my day than starting it off with a nice, juicy blast of methane".
She wasn't willing to endure the befouled air of the bedroom a second longer. She headed for a nice shower, leaving him to wallow in the stink he had created.
DOES HE SURVIVE THE GAS ATTACK
WILL SHE SLEEP WITH HIM AGAIN
WILL A CORK HELP
FIND OUT TOMORROW