Fart Uncontrollably

Track of the day - Punchdrunk - Bela Fleck.



In a futile attempt to avoid my cigarette smoke Mrs B spends most of her time at the Swedish flat pack furniture superstore. As a result I am now able to assemble a bookcase or cd tower in about the time it takes for the first ash to drop off the end of my cigarette.
This is the sad state of affairs at Bogsville Heights since our leaders introduced the smoking ban that has brought to an end my nights out in the Hole in the Ground and Tulip & Tiara bars.
The only place locally that doesn't have a smoking ban sticker on the door is Bogsville Heights so I'm sort of stuck here.
The local public phone box doesn't have a sticker but I might just as well stay at home as stand in the phone box all night.

The bus shelter has a no smoking sign, the local undertaker has a no smoking sign so even the local corpses are denied a last fag before they depart for the crematorium, which I've no doubt has a no smoking sign stuck on its door too. When I'm finally transported there I'm going to insist that I'm delivered with a full pack of Benson & Hedges.
I did wander along to the Hole in the Ground bar last Friday.
I sat in the back yard with a pint of something or other until it got too cold to sit outside and then wandered inside where I was immediately struck by the welcoming smell of stale urine and B.O.
I stood at the bar while the little guy standing next to me smashed the Bogsville record for breaking wind.
"Sorry about that mate," he said to no one in particular and broke wind again.
I wandered off to the other end of the bar. Smokers don't bother me. People who fart uncontrollably do.
No I'm not planning to give up smoking. I have no desire to have an even more finely tuned sense of smell.