"I Fart, Therefore I Am." A Mad Libs Date Night

Last night, Jason and I went out to IHOP and sipped on their scrumptious hot chocolate while working riddles, puzzles, and a few Mad Libs we printed off the Internet. It was a great time, and the crowning moment of the evening came as we were doing our last Mad Libs story. Jason and I were all snoodled up on the same bench (probably sickeningly so for some-but I don't care :) ) and it was Jason's turn to add a word to the story. I'd just asked him to give me an adjective, and he said "fart". I told him "fart" is not an adjective, and he (who was thinking "verb" when I said "adjective") proceeded to tell me how fart can be an adjective (read verb). He looked me straight in the eye and in a matter of fact kind of manner told me, "I fart, I'm farting, I farted." This just as a waitress walks by our table. I wonder if she rolled her eyes at Jason's miserable dating etiquette (we all try not to fart on a date, but NOBODY announces the transgression, especially not in a play by play kind of format!) Or maybe she held her breath as she passed by us moments later with the syrup the people a few tables down had requested. I don't know-by then we were both cracking up and I could barely see through my tear filled eyes. (I always cry when I get laughing really hard.) I know it's kind of juvenile to get so snickery over words describing bodily functions, but sometimes its fun to throw grown up out the window and revisit being 5 again. :) Here's the completed story that brought on Jason's announcement of flatulence. We think its great, but maybe its one of those "you gotta be there" kind of things. Read it if you want- Jason and I will have fun reading it to each other when we're so old there's no such thing as holding in your "fluffs" as a friend of mine was taught to call them. (Old age will be great that way- no one will expect you to abide strictly to social rules, plus, by then, we'll have tons of funny memories to cackle about in our lazy boys.) :) Anyway, back to the story. The words we provided are in bold.

We weren't allowed to go in the sauna and we really didn't want to--it was succulent and superfluous and smelled like fart. The steps leading down into the sauna were odoriferous and there was a luminous jellyfish next to the daisy. It felt confused and we wanted to run. We farted toward the sauna 27 steps at a time till our pyloric sphincters hopped fartingly and we were too scared to wretch. There was always a stammerous bread stick coming up from below the needle nose pliers and we weren't brave enough to spit it.
One day there was a pinging sound. It was coming from the sauna. We wanted to know what was making the sound, but we were afraid we might laugh. We shed and drank, but each time the fear would conquer over us, and we would back away, terrified. Finally, Dustin decided to face the fear and go down to the sauna. When we didn't hear leaving we became encouraged and followed behind, praying we would not be growled by whatever it was that mowed and incorporated down there. When we made it to the very bottom, we matriculated ventricles wrapped tightly around each other, barely coloring. Then, we saw it. It was splendiferous and it was complaining harmoniously. We moved closer, we couldn't breathe...It was Rudy incarcerating the salt shakers in the widget.

Jason and I should be published, don't you think? :)