May 18, 2005

impromptu terrorism

I’ve had enough with those belligerent housewife security guards. I do not know what’s the problem with them. Why can’t they just be more professional like they should ? Why do they have to treat as if we’re some practice target for their menopausal maladies ?

So today, I devised a plan to retaliate against their ill deeds. Well, not exactly a plan but sort of like a tactical rush of idea of what I can do given a set of circumstances. And the circumstances I’m talking about is the vulnerability of them housewife to whiff something unpleasant from us. That’s right, the brilliant idea of safe retaliation by gassing them up at their checkpoint. It’ll be awesome.

But I had a problem. It seemed that I did not actually have the vital ingredients at that particular moment. I tried to push my bowel but it was a vain effort. I couldn’t simply postpone the attack, I might forget all about it after today and will never get to redeem the justice of my co-workers. And that was when I guide myself to align with the Force … I closed my eyes when I came down from the elevated scanning platform to collect my rummaged belongings…

I felt it seeping into my body caressing my intestines hard like a Reebok air pump, gradually building up the pressure, I was inches away from achieving my genocidal objective. With that, I wrung my final ounce of strength to exert the mayhem of curry chicken gravy (that I had for lunch? hhehehyeah) … and finally ripped a silent killer fart right before I bailed the place.

It was a fantabulous experience, considering that this actually happened out of nothing at all.

I never got to see those drones choke though… as I did not stay around to watch. (only dolts stay at the place they bombed). But I reckoned it wasn’t as lethal as I had hoped for because I wasn’t really prepared. A well planned lethal dose should smell something like fermented broccoli blended with semi digested shallot soup, topped with gobs of bloated AK47 durian fruit. You get the idea.

Perhaps I should start drafting the real “plan” now…

michaelooi  | experiences  | 

13 Comments to “impromptu terrorism”

  1. Zer0 says:

    Urgh, brocolli?, shallot?, durian?. Can it get any worst?

  2. Din says:

    I wonder if you can store your fart in something air-tight…

  3. Be careful – all of this terrorism is going to make my country come over for some regime change. Worse yet is the risk of unexpected underwear change.

  4. elphinstone says:

    stock up on those durians ;)

  5. michaelooi says:

    din – So that I can send it to you for whiff test ?

    ZerO – Petai beans are pretty nasty.

    macek – Ooooo~… scared the hell out of me dude.

    elphine – That’s what I’m gonna do…

  6. doc says:

    You’ll never know…

    Housewife #1 : “Hey! I smell something.”

    Housewife #2 : “Me too!”

    Housewife #1 : “Alright! Curry chicken for dinner tonight!”

    Housewife #2 : “And durian for dessert!”

  7. Din says:

    No no no….don’t scare me Mike… heheheheh

  8. Hustler says:

    You’re damn good with fart jokes.. Hahaha. Got any more Pear jokes? The most memorable one was the one in which she tried to stuff RM1 bill into the LRT coin payment machine. LoL! Laughed like mad on that one!


  9. belacans says:

    MO, the creator and producer of Revenge of the Fart! no, doesn’t sound good. maybe Fart Reloaded, or Too Fart Too Foolat. yeah, i like the last one. *grinz*

  10. vincent says:

    Do you know that people store their farts in a bottle/jar and sell it over EBay? I’ve seen that kinda stuffs before.

  11. michaelooi says:

    you guys are just being paranoid about farts. Everyone does it everyday, ok ? Why discriminate farts .. .why why ?

  12. ken says:

    Umm, you wrote about an entry about one librarian-look-alike farting in public location and you’re disgusted before if I’m not mistaken. That girl fart everyday too. Later, there’s a post about Emily’s fart. Seem like you wrote about “fart” a lot. Maybe open a post-of-note call “fart”? XD

  13. michaelooi says:

    ken – you can quit reading if you wanted to … nobody’s pointing a gun at your head to do it …

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