Sandra farts with a little tootle
as she swings her caboodle
back and forth
in the spotlight.
The bikini bout is here,
the day Sandra has feared
for months and days
and forever.
She struts her stuff
with a butt so tight
you could bounce
a quarter on it,
which Wayne has tried and achieved.
She's repeated her lunges,
run into strange men in masks,
and worked out with the drill instructor.
Rivals fear our Sandra.
They know she can steal the show.
She'll get the trophy,
they'll see.
Folks in the audience
whisper and wonder:
How can a woman who looks like that
have so darn many children?
But as she reaches
the footlights,
suddenly a sound
puts our Sandra in a state of fear.
She cuts one,
rips one,
blows the judges' hair back
with her wind.
Competitors, adjudicators, and audience alike
all begin to wonder, What could make such a noise?
Sandra clenches her cheeks,
but still cuts the cheese -- a great big stinking Limburger.
The audience in an uproar,
Sandra's blush begins to spread.
Pink on her chest gives way to
crimson on her countenance.
But when the giggling and chuckling start,
Sandra's scarlet stops.
She'll not be the butt
of ridicule.
She turns her back on the crowd
and lets it loose with no apprehension.
Her flatulence blows
no ill wind, only fascination.
All are in wonder
that a butt so small
can be heard
in the back of the auditorium.
Sandra's not ashamed.
This bathing beauty
will make gas
all the rage.
With a butt-roar to wake the dead
the applause now begins to spread
all over the theater to
judges, competitors, and onlookers alike.
Give her a hand.
Give her a cheer,
hurrahs, whistles,
and an ovation.
All declare the contest terminated.
His Honor forks over the prize:
a loving cup, a medal, a citation with compensation
plus two weeks in Hawaii.
No toddlers, youth, or rug rats allowed.
Grandma and Grandpa will babysit.
Sandra gives Wayne a little peck,
then turns to choose her handsome attendant.
i want a butt that can bounce off a quater on it :p
ReplyDeleteLmao! This is hilarious ;)
ReplyDeleteFunny post, Janie! (I KNEW that bringing that gas mask would be a good idea!)
ReplyDeleteI laughed so hard I farted a little....
ReplyDeleteJaya, Sandra can tell you how to do it.
ReplyDeleteElisa, Glad you liked it.
fishducky, Always wise to bring the gas mask to my blog.
LegalEagle, oops!
lmao! This is superb! And it expresses perfectly what I've been going through today...good lord when is this gas going to pass? Thank you Janie, you are a sweetheart, writing an ode to my flatulence! xoxo
ReplyDeleteI'm so happy you were able to visit and enjoy your poem. Happy Gas!
ReplyDeleteSandra can fart all she wants too. She is still a doll. Me??!!! My farts are so good that I sometimes name them.
ReplyDeleteCoffey, I agree completely with your opinion of Sandra. So how about sharing some of your farts' names?
ReplyDeleteK-Fart, Stinky, Sir Blow Hard, Butt’er Cup, Woofer, Cheesy, Growler, Killer, and Sweet Breath to name a few of my Flatulent Family.
ReplyDeleteToo funny, I guess you could say she's a genuine fartiste.
ReplyDeleteSandra's and Susan's comments made me crack up! So did this post. You are such a gas, lady! What a silly poem.
ReplyDeleteHahahahahahahaaaaa
ReplyDeleteI'm a gas or I am gas, Stephanola?
ReplyDeleteGlad you enjoyed it, Jane.