The Miller's Tale

from Roomie's email this morning to me:

I have blown out three ribs, 2 spinal discs, the equivalent of eight drinks, 4 potatoes, 6 haystacks, 2 cows, a cornfield and a Buick into the toilet since I saw you last.

Holding oneself in the Iron Cross position, and LITERALLY blowing yourself into the air for a few seconds is neither liberating nor cleansing. It hurts.

And I think that the clams have finally left the building.