Dear Holly,
My girlfriend has terrible flatulence. You’d think that a young lady would have the manners to hold it in, but she has clearly become far too familiar and even thinks it’s funny to force my head under the covers and shout ‘smell the beef’ whenever she lets one go in bed. All I can think of these days is how to escape the next blast from her enormous winking anus. How can I get her to use her bottom for good instead of evil?
Simon,
Winchester
Dear Simon,
I shouldn’t worry too much about your wife’s trumpet bum, unless she’s got a habit of following through, and if that’s the case then better make sure lost property is fully stocked with spare pants. Whenever anyone in my class gets over-excited and poos themselves, Mrs Dodkins just tells everyone to calm down and goes to fetch the janitor so he can mop up the mess. Usually he just has to get the sawdust out, but the other day Serena Green got a terrible fright when we were singing Pop goes the Weasel and shat all over the silent reading area. The janitor wasn’t at all pleased when he had to wipe spatter off Watership Down with a J-cloth; thankfully we read that one last term.
Hope that helps!
Holly
