Last night, two stops from my destination, the subway decided to catch fire and I was forced, along with half of Toronto, to walk down Yonge Street.<\/p>\n

I’m not complaining. I like a good walk after work. What got me pissed was having to walk behind a lot of smokers, which meant I had to endure clouds of second hand smoke and ashes blown in my direction. Ugh.<\/p>\n

I’m sure you’ve heard of the Urban Dictionary version of “crop dusting<\/a>“:<\/p>\n

Passing gas in a stealth manor [sic], usually while walking through a crowd or a group, so that someone else gets blamed for the stench, or at the very least people besides the assailent [sic] must suffer it.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Yes. I did a couple last night.<\/p>\n

The twist on this tale, my friends, is how I alert SharkBoy that I’m going to assail some poor bastard behind us. This is what I say:<\/p>\n

“Okay so he gets off the bus and he’s standing in the middle of a field all alone. Crazy long shot of him utterly alone. Two roads converging in the middle of nothing. And him alone! And suddenly a plane comes from no where and brrrooooffmfppp! It tries to run him down! A plane. Tries to run down Carey Grant. Forget that if anything touches your prop on a plane, you instantly crash. But on the second pass, a machine gun is fired, so that’s ok…”<\/p>\n

I could go on but by this time I’m all farted out<\/a>. Now all I have to say is: “He gets off the bus and it’s like, nothing around!<\/em>” poot.<\/p>\n

Anyway, back to last night.<\/p>\n

I’m about to pass this munchkin of a man who is smoking like a drag queen (draws in a toke, throws head back and with pursed lips, exhales in a thin fast stream of vile choke). As I approach, he looks over his shoulder to see if any buses are coming. We lock eyes. My eyes say “you dirty fucker” because I’ve had to endure a block and a half of his weird smoking and ash flicking. His eyes say “get over yourself, Mary”.<\/p>\n

I cut in front and release the solitary Carey Grant from my ass.<\/p>\n

Actually that’s where my story ends. No sharting, no coughing, no other incident. Sorry.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Last night, two stops from my destination, the subway decided to catch fire and I was forced, along with half of Toronto, to walk down Yonge Street. I’m not complaining. I like a good walk after work. What got me pissed was having to walk behind a lot of smokers, which meant I had to […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":430,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"spay_email":"","jetpack_publicize_message":""},"categories":[1080,3,439],"tags":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p9WjY-1Jw","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.deadrobot.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6666"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.deadrobot.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.deadrobot.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.deadrobot.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/430"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.deadrobot.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=6666"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/www.deadrobot.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6666\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.deadrobot.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=6666"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.deadrobot.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=6666"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.deadrobot.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=6666"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}