Blowing Up The Airport In Lisbon By Way Of Methane Gas

FARTING 300x300 Blowing Up The Airport In Lisbon By Way Of Methane Gas

I sit here in an internet café in Lisbon writing this blog. I am here for 5 days with Ruth (you remember Ruth right, that used to work with me?), except Ruth isn’t with me at the moment, which I guess is why I am in an internet café, which is located inside a pharmacy.  I don’t  know why I said café because it isn’t a café at all. There are no croissants or coffee or any kind of beverage at all, except cough syrup, which is cool if you are into sizzurp, which I ain’t. Who the hell would have the idea to put computers in a pharmacy anyway? Have you ever heard of such a thing? Doesn’t make sense to me. As I type someone is behind me buying medication for one ailment or another.

Onto other matters…

I cannot stop farting and seeing as I am sitting in one place and will be for the next hour or so it would not be polite for me to pass gas, not only might it upset those around me and cause possible suffocation but because it would also, cause me great embarrassment, but damnit I wanna fart so bad. I think it is because I was pigging out last night and then drank peppermint tea this morning to try and ease the bloating. I feel like a bubbling volcano. All this morning in the airport and walking from shop to shop I have been farting and running way from it leaving Ruth to inhale the fumes I leave behind. Now I have nowhere to run, and no choice but to force the gas back inside and listen to it make swooshing noises in my tummy.

Last night Ruth stayed over and we drank banana baileys cocktails and ate generous amounts of haloumi with olives and multi grain crusty bread. We were meant to be going to bed early since we were leaving the house at 5 o’clock for the airport, however our attempts at early retirement were futile and we ended up doing karaoke and watching Nollywood until 2 o’clock in the morning. I set three alarms on my phone all at 15 minute intervals from 3.30, as did Ruth, and we slept right through them and ended up waking at something to 5. As we rushed to get our clothes on drag the suitcases down the stairs the impatient taxi driver insisted on honking his horn every thirty seconds, only stopping when I opened the window and screamed out like a fishwife, “HOLD ON… WE’RE COOOOOOOOOOMING!!!” He soon shut up.

You may be wondering why Ruth is not here, it is because I booked my flight way before hers, so when it came time for her to book the cheapest option was with a stopover in Madrid, so the cheapest option it had to be, which means that although we left at roughly the same time she isn’t due in to Lisbon until three hours after me. I was gonna meet her at the hostel (Yeah I’m on a budget) that we booked, but figured it might be better for us to arrive together so we can at least get put in the same room. Although I have stayed in a hostel before, I had my own room, so I am not sure what to expect in a 4 bed dormitory. We were thinking a chain and padlock may be in order to secure the suitcases to the bed. We’ve only booked one night, so we’ll see what it is like before deciding what to do. So here I am lurking in the airport for three hours trying to keep the gas in and cause as little offence as possible.

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