[glasscollector]

Hilarious! And very well

written...

My rite of passage came around the time of Jr High School, and our locker room was the crucible of

fire for any boy who hoped to scrabble up the fart chain to become champion.

Our reigning hero had, among other

talents, the ability to rip-on-demand. He could run faster, bench press more cheerleaders and had such sublime

sense of timing that each expiatory report elicited a specifically desired range of response.

The rest of us were

left to merely embarrass ourselves. I did manage to raise my standing once purely by accident when, during a pause

in a particularly boring lecture, I loosed a prize-winning cattle call. Even my girlfriend laughed, and I was the

talk of the hallways between periods.

Glory Days...