when life stinks...make lemonade?

I had an evening drink with Baze last night, and just because the conversation we had brought back some terrible memories of Std 4, I'll be talking about farting for the duration of this post.

There was a tiny, little, skinny dude in my Std 4 class. His name was something out of a Roald Dahl novel – Sidney Snoof or something like that. He was a usually quiet little fellow who didn't do much, except spit balls of saliva through the back of his pen onto other people's heads.
So mostly, of the times I did see him, he was doing something juvenile and disgusting. Just the sort of stuff I appreciate - when I'm pissed. But I suppose most boys were like that anyhow.

So, the problem with Sidney Snoof (I'm pretty darn certain that was his name. 99.9% recurring certain), was that he was an insatiable baffer.

It didn't happen every day, sometimes it would be weeks, but you always remembered it. When Sidney had a gas explosion, you got the fuck out of the classroom. It smelt like rotten eggs, mulled for extra ferocity, in hydrogen sulphide. He didn't shoot a bunny; he shot nerve gas. He didn't open his lunchbox or cut the cheese; he half killed most of my classmates.

If I was sitting in the front of the classroom, I could smell it from the back.
Trying not to mock charge, someone would ordinarily scream, “Sidney farted everyone! We're all gonna die...,” and people would clamber out, while Sidney would just stand there giggling. In the beginning he always denied it. But not for long, because once that odour hit you face on, there was no forgetting it. Or from whence it came. A Sidney Fart is hopefully something I'll never have to endure again for as long as I live.

I'm sure the teacher even pressed the fire alarm once. What was he eating? What did that kid eat? I mean, hell's bells alive, he was only but the size of a large vase, after all.

Anyway, my point was: I have no point. Or maybe I do. Life stinks right now.

However, despite my financial implications, I'm still rather happy.
Although talking happiness and farting in one post doesn't quite work, I still think it's worth mentioning. It really helps when one aspect of your life is shite, another aspect seems to be going rather nicely.

I also heard from that friend of mine last night. The one who stopped speaking to me when I got together with Mr 747. He finally broke his two month silence and got hold of me - and I am delighted.
I understand why he disappeared, and I'm just awfully glad it wasn't forever. I have missed talking to him. And it was a pleasant surprise to see his name pop up on my Skype last night.