My gut

My gut is a thing of beauty and wonder. And, oh boy, is it on a rampage.

You see, I made beans from scratch the other night. Oh, beans beans good for your heart, the more you eat them... Now, the problem with beans from scratch is that occationally one or two black beauties don't quite get cooked all the way done.

And you know what that means!

Farts waiting to happen. And not just any fart - wicked cumin-soaked black bean farts.

Totally toxic.

But wait, there's more!

Last night we partied hardy at the white elephant party with a mini-keg of Spaten. So, so good that beer. Light, hoppy yet slightly sweet with none of the sharpness that so plagues Heinicken. But lo, that Spaten produces a uniquely foul brand of barley farts.

And if you don't know what barley farts are, count your blessings. But man, they are rank.

Now imagine beany goodness farts mixed with Spaten barley farts.

Yes, we have stunk ourselves out of our own house... and out of the house where we slept after the party. (Sorry Andy!)

So yeah, we'll keep the fans on around here a little longer. And avoid the beany leftovers in the fridge.