Dear Auntie Ora:

Just the other day, I was in the presence of several members of the opposite sex, and, after the three bowls of pea soup I had earlier that day, was in dire need of releasing a great deal of built up pressure, which was manifesting itself painfully, and threatening to...err..."spoil" their opinion of me, which I had spent some time cultivating as... well... cultivated. I managed to hang on and prevent any loss of composure, but I imagine that my facial expressions were at the least, puzzling.

So, anyway, may question is this: Where do farts go when you hold them in?

I figured that you, of all people, would know, because as we all have been told again and again, women never fart.

Sibyl: Here you go, Pythia. One three bean burrito, extra hot sauce, with a garlic crouton waldorf salad side and a large rootbeer, no ice. I simply do not understand how you can stomach those things.

You should try them Sib, the refried beans mix great with the pinto and black, yummy, yummy stuff.

Sibyl: That is quite alright Pythia. Say, isn't that Cassandra's puppy, Mr. Puddles?

Yeah, Cassidy asked me to watch the little bugger while she ran a few errands.

Sibyl: Well, as long as he stays far away from the personnel files. I'd hate for there to be a repeat.

Well then, close the door when you go out, and he'll stay in here. Thanks again Sibyl.

Now, what's the next question on the pile...

(Mmm, good burrito.)

Aw, bloody hell, now why do I always get these kinds of questions?

Dear Sir,
Your darn tootin' (P'wah, *good* burrito) you should hold it in, and you're also quite right, a proper lady never passes gas. ('Ey, what are you whimpering about?) Sadly, the male physiology is not as well designed. If you find pressing urgency to break wind (Stop pawing the door, ya little blighter!) simply excuse yourself to the washroom, or simply bottle it up. Nothing is more offensive to your lady friends then the smell of natural gas. (Quit yer howling!) And a little suffering on your part will be something that others will not blow off. (That's it you little fleabag, take a nap)

Your's sincerely,

Pythia DiStefano, Delphic Research.


Cassie: Hey Pyth, I'm back and OH - MY - GAWD!!!!

Pythia: Yeah Cassie, what have you been feeding that little mongrel? He's been stinking up my office since you left.