Tuesday – Flatulent Charlie
Feb. 3rd, 2009 01:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ninanevermore.
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I got a message the other day from Bren, who I used to work with at the Toll Road Authority. She wanted to let me know that the wife of Flatulent Charlie had died in a car accident, in case I wanted to show my respects. Charlie was head of the Revenue Collections department at the Toll Road Authority when I worked there several years back. He is a crusty old grouch with white hair, a white moustache, a beer gut, and a digestive system that under international treaty is counted as a biological weapon of mass destruction.
I always thought that Flatulent Charlie's wife was sweet, but there is no way that I wanted to attend her funeral. At most funerals, the widow or widower sits in the front pew and the lesser mourners sit behind them. The idea of spending an hour sitting behind Flatulent Charlie fills me with horror because Charlie is – to put it bluntly – very, very flatulent.
Even sitting at the back of the chapel would be no escape. Charlie's farts are legendary. He is the king of the SBD. They float in a heavy cloud around him. They linger, they lurk, they leap up and lung down your airways when you least expect them. I can't begin to describe what it's like to ride in an elevator with the man. A short trip from the second floor of the Toll Road Authority building to the first seems to last hours when you can't breath.
House plants wither and die when he walks by.
So do canaries.
I am sad to hear about his wife. Nevertheless, I think I'll just drop a card in the mail letting him know I'm sorry for his loss, and call it good.
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I got a message the other day from Bren, who I used to work with at the Toll Road Authority. She wanted to let me know that the wife of Flatulent Charlie had died in a car accident, in case I wanted to show my respects. Charlie was head of the Revenue Collections department at the Toll Road Authority when I worked there several years back. He is a crusty old grouch with white hair, a white moustache, a beer gut, and a digestive system that under international treaty is counted as a biological weapon of mass destruction.
I always thought that Flatulent Charlie's wife was sweet, but there is no way that I wanted to attend her funeral. At most funerals, the widow or widower sits in the front pew and the lesser mourners sit behind them. The idea of spending an hour sitting behind Flatulent Charlie fills me with horror because Charlie is – to put it bluntly – very, very flatulent.
Even sitting at the back of the chapel would be no escape. Charlie's farts are legendary. He is the king of the SBD. They float in a heavy cloud around him. They linger, they lurk, they leap up and lung down your airways when you least expect them. I can't begin to describe what it's like to ride in an elevator with the man. A short trip from the second floor of the Toll Road Authority building to the first seems to last hours when you can't breath.
House plants wither and die when he walks by.
So do canaries.
I am sad to hear about his wife. Nevertheless, I think I'll just drop a card in the mail letting him know I'm sorry for his loss, and call it good.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
OMG
Date: 2009-02-03 10:41 pm (UTC)Re: OMG
Date: 2009-02-03 10:42 pm (UTC)Re: OMG
Date: 2009-02-03 10:43 pm (UTC)Re: OMG
Date: 2009-02-03 10:45 pm (UTC)I am sorry about his wife. I'll send a card.
Re: OMG
Date: 2009-02-03 10:47 pm (UTC)Re: OMG
Date: 2009-02-03 10:47 pm (UTC)To quote Lizzy from "Cars..."
Date: 2009-02-04 02:44 am (UTC)I wouldn't listen to that Badina bitch. All she ever talks about is herself.
Re: To quote Lizzy from "Cars..."
Date: 2009-02-04 03:10 am (UTC)Not every way, mind you. I must admit there are certain things that she and I will never see eye to eye on.
The main reason I keep her around, though, it because her little boy is so cute. Have you seen his picutes? What a little doll!
no subject
Date: 2009-02-04 04:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-04 08:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-04 12:34 pm (UTC)Re: OMG
Date: 2009-02-04 12:38 pm (UTC)If he hasn't hitherto been self-conscious enough about his problem to do something about it, I hardly think he will be fretting about it now.
His wife is dead! No man in that position is thinking, "Oh no! I hope no-one on the internet is mentioning my flatulence!"
Now, if she attended the funeral and made a speech about it, that might be called bad taste.
Re: OMG
Date: 2009-02-04 12:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-04 12:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-04 01:40 pm (UTC)Re: To quote Lizzy from "Cars..."
Date: 2009-02-04 03:07 pm (UTC)http://www.usnews.com/articles/business/2008/08/19/how-to-earn-money-from-blogging.html
http://www.usnews.com/blogs/alpha-consumer/2008/8/18/how-much-do-bloggers-make.html
You get famous as a blogger and then I'LL get famous promoting you on CafePress! :D
no subject
Date: 2009-02-04 03:12 pm (UTC)On a side note, the dear lady had years before been diagnosed with esophageal cancer and spoke with the used of a vibration box (meaning she sounded rather like a robot) after having her larynx removed. I sometimes wondered if her husband's fumes may have caused her cancer, though there is no scientific evidence to support that they could have.
no subject
Date: 2009-02-04 03:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-04 03:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-04 03:23 pm (UTC)When women get to old to care any more, they wear those shapeless dresses and house slippers out in public. When men reach that age, they wear black dress socks with their shorts and sandals, let their nose and ear hair grow wild, and fart where ever they please.
Gah! x_X
Re: To quote Lizzy Cars
Date: 2009-02-04 03:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-04 09:13 pm (UTC)He dresses okay...he is just vulgar. LOL