After the Halloween party I had on Wednesday (which was fun, and not nearly as wild as the Christmas party...which I'm okay with), I had a HUGE amount of leftover hot dogs and baked beans. So, I did what any resourceful person would do...I cut up the hot dogs and mixed them with the beans. Brother wasn't interested in eating them. There's only one other way to efficiently get rid of leftovers without having to resort to feeding them to the saint bernard: take them to work.
When I got to work, I was somewhat dismayed to see that our very own Lothario of Farts was working. Not that he's a bad worker, but we know him to frequently pass gas.
It's almost at will.
And extremely toxic.
And paint peels off the walls.
I only know of one other who can match his talent, and he has already transferred to another floor.
I'm just going to say that it used to be that when these two worked together, I'd have to frequently watch my back because their favorite hobby was cornering me somewhere and ripping ass, leaving me nowhere to escape. ~shudder~
At any rate, it seemed that this was the wrong night to bring a big bowl full of beanie weenies to work.
For lunch, the entire staff helped themselves to bowlfuls of my fabulous, yet ill-fated concoction. Even Indy stopped by for some.
I suspect that the mass fiber intake will make itself manifest in a few hours. I can only assume that some confused patients are going to be blamed for the smell. They are confused and cannot defend themselves.
Meanwhile, I'm sitting here, armed with cucumber-melon scented spray.
Luck favors the prepared.