Back when my Grandpa was courtin’ (dating) my Grandma in the rural mountains of North Carolina he picked her up for their first date in his horse-drawn buggy. As they were traveling down the bumpy dirt roads his bowels began to rumble and he was struggling to keep from breaking wind. About halfway to his parent’s house a storm started to blow in so he decided the next time he saw lightning he would time it and let it rip during the thunder. This worked perfectly and Grandma never knew. Soon he felt the urge again and he waited for the lightning and timed it perfectly. Wanting to make casual conversation he said to Grandma, “We had better hurry, that one sounded close”. Grandma said “ Yes, it smells like it struck a shithouse”.
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