Filthie's Mobile Fortress Of Solitude

Filthie's Mobile Fortress Of Solitude
Where Great Intelligence Goes To Be Insulted

Wednesday, 14 February 2018

The Feminine Arts

Every Tuesday is Girl's Nite at the church. It's a good deal for moms: they can drop their daughters off and grab a couple hours of down time - or go after chores and errands that they missed in the hubbub and pandemonium of raising small kids. My wife volunteers for it because she has a very youthful streak herself and is good with kids. They all go down into the dungeon at the chapel and do arts n' crafts, read stories, or girly stuff to keep the little ones amused and engaged.

Last night they had a Tea Party, and the wife got dressed up in foppish frumpy clothes, and went out for a night on the tiles with her young friends. She made cupcakes for the occasion.

I can just imagine the little ones - admiring the artwork and then scarfing the cakes down like animals the way little ones do! HAR HAR HAR HAR HAR!!!

Now there's a whole bunch of Valntine day candy and stuff left over, and I glubbed it up the same way the kids probably did last night! Unlike them - instead of it turning into energy and making me hyperactive... horrible, horrible things are going on in my stomach and small intestine. I just cut a fart that rattled the windows in their panes, shook the dust of the rafters, and scared the shit out of the dawg. Probly hit 9.5 on The Rectum Scale.

These feminine arts are useful and desirable in younger women and their families, but for us old farts... there's consequences for stuff like this.

If anyone knows how to use a stomach pump, I would be most grateful for your services right now.


  1. I guess your colon gives new meaning to the "Ring Of Fire..."

    1. I don't generally get The Burning Ring - I don't think I've ever gotten it. I tend to get the rumblies where you innards start gurgling like a piped Harley Davidson - followed by epic eruptions of the Mount St. Helens variety... :)