Tuesday, July 14, 2015

Passing Lane

Passing Gas in the elevator when you're alone 
seems like such a good idea at the time.

The elevator tempts you with it's feeling of seclusion. It's like a mobile bathroom stall just for your breaking wind pleasure.

but then, like the lucifer and all cruel mistrisses, she betrays you. She opens the door, and there is your director, who walks in and becomes intimately aware of the product of your inner workings.

you have no recourse, you may attempt to slide into obscurity, but he knows. and he will never forget

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