"Preservation of Flatulence"
written by
"Me, or maybe.....It wasn't Me"
The written publication of this highly classified, extremely sought after, and lustfully desirable instructional information, has come as a result of an inquiry made by a certain individual who's name will remain undisclosed, in order that the lives of the presently, seemingly innocent, may be safe guarded.
The inquiring individual, whom will certainly and most undoubtedly, beyond any imaginable, humanly possible degree of doubt, be shamelessly, far more culpable than even the deadliest, most incriminating sin itself. So it will be upon his attaining this, most dangerous of any, and all, information ever known within the entire realm of the earth.
That is without question.
Considering that he previously disclosed the diabolical nature of his treacherously sinister, future intentions. Unwittingly doing so, precisely at that moment in which he asked the most ardently forbidden of all known, ardently forbidden questions.
That reproachfully remorseless question,
inquiring as follows;
"How does one go about the task of achieving the successful entrapment and preservation of ones own flatulence...specifically for the purpose of enabling their activation as a readily available source of biochemical weaponry, for a future application" ?
==============================================================
"DANGER"!
Reading the material beyond this point,
is done at the readers own peril.
==============================================================
"WARNING"!
The information contained in the following text,
is indefensibly, intensely corrupting.
All readers will be irreversibly rendered,
absolutely "irredeemable"
==============================================================
"If you have proceeded to this point".........
What The "F#@%" Is Wrong With You"?
==============================================================
You are certainly the most unspeakably despicable
and repulsively repugnant creature
to have ever savored
a slithering slide throughout the
slimy sewers of the world...
simply for desiring to know the following information!
==============================================================
Historically, the problem with trapping one's own farts and saving them for later (as with the "mason jar" method) is that they lose their furiously fuming freshness. Farts are perishable, in that their admirable ability to make one's enemies perish, rapidly becomes dreadfully diminished.
To put it quite simply, stale stench will soon become deplorably depleted of its deliberately designed, debilitating duty. This devastating deduction deteriorates their inexplicably perplexing, pervasive power. Such a woefully worrisome waning of a well blown, warm, wild wind withers it's peril producing potency.
I will instruct you in the most magnificent method that can possibly be applied to your quest of achieving this extremely elusive and immemorially antiquated, anal aspiration. Historically, it has been a persistently perpetuated, passionate pursuit of man. Its derived from a deeply drawn desire for a destined deliverance to the discovery of this universally yearned for, fanatically fancied, fabulous, fart feat.
A quest which throughout the ages, has mostly produced the shameful utterance, describing the utter failure of all attempts at it's accomplishment. It's been one of mankind's greatest desires. The magnitude of the desire, matched only by the degree to which its fulfillment is lacking.
Man has agonizingly longed for the ability to succeed in the "preservation of flatulence". "Man", is specified regarding gender...since, as is commonly known, flatulence is completely foreign & unbeknown to "Woman".
To begin with, most of the history regarding the pursuit of obtaining or developing a technology capable of perpetuating the putrid production of the permeating poison which was originally purged purely by way of the pooter, has been a history of excessive exertions. Inevitably resulting in verifiable, vast amounts of pushing pressures while rupturing many veins, but repeatedly done only in vain.
Mans fruitless efforts continued until the advent of refrigeration. But when comparing refrigeration's relatively punctuated existence to the seemingly endless sands of time in which man has relentlessly pursued the ability to conserve his completely corrupted, clear clouds of concentrated contamination and organic condemnation, it's as if refrigeration was invented merely yesterday...perhaps, only this morning. However, it is more specifically, the freezer, or refrigeration on steroids, which is what one truly needs in order to manufacture satisfactory, rock-solid results.
The first step in this modernly devised, technologically sophisticated process is to.....open the freezer door. One may become befuddled and bewildered as a result of being the proud proprietor of a considerably sized, electrically energized, kitchen clustering contraption.
In order that one may overcome this demonstrably daunting difficulty of tremendously tricky technicalities, it may be necessary for one to sensibly spring for, and acquire, the services of a sturdy, stable, step ladder.
Upon becoming unfailingly empowered and reaching the appropriate elevation...resulting in the prize producing, posterior positioning, which has been perfectly placed with the polished precision of a paid professional.
One may now become profusely emboldened and proud...pronounced with a profoundly prodigious poise. Pleasurably proceeding with an absolute crowned confidence in the uncontested, coveted competence of his courageously creative cunning. The objective is achieved by gracefully grunting the correctly calculated, and liberally applied, generous dispensation of purgative energy to one's spectacularly sparkling, spicy sphincter.
Immediately after producing the desired amount of grievously ghastly, gurgling, gaseous gloom, one must decisively and rapidly, without the slightest inkling of hesitation, close the freezer door...before the cheek chafing chill checks into your chum chasm like a chunk of cheap, chewing gum...freeze sticking your charming pair of center chopped, chubby chuck roasts to each other as they chillingly chatter like a couple of gossiping Chilean cheerleaders...
choking your chapped channel full of ice as if you were wearing only chaps on a last chance charge through uncharted Arctic waters on a cheap, cheesy charter...requiring your chamber to get chipped out with a chisel.
Leaving you like a choice chick cheated out of her cherished, chaste cherry on a chain and exchanged for a chipmunk chewed, charred chestnut...as on a chimpanzee with a checkered past and a chirpy childhood case of Chinese Shit-hole Chickenpox.
So don't wallow in your wickedly whirling weed-killer wind. Nor slowly waddle your wily, Dixieland whistling wind-maker out of there. Because if you start to feel a frigidly frosty, frisky fulfillment on your woolly, whiskered wagon wheel...or if that whipping, wintry wind is whisking through your wedge and wooing your wind-tunnel with a wickedly whetted, whispering wink...don't stick around unless you've often wished your ol' brown eye be made blue! That ain't no time for witty wisecracks, but for fast-forward motion, boundless, booty boogie.
If you feel that you are particularly talented at the tail end of things, you may wish to discover if you might be anally adept enough to include the use of ice trays. In that manner you can be the proud possessor of perfectly shaped, symmetrically frozen flatulence.
You can even attempt to make..."Stink On A Stick"!
The solidified state of your scathing stench can now be tolerably toted to within range of a variety of tactfully targeted and, soon to be, traumatically tortured individuals. That is, until the laws of physics inevitably begin to release the tear-jerking terror that is contained within your fearsomely fragrant and fatally configured frozen foulness!
Good Luck!
...and remember, knowledge is power!
But a knowledgeably produced and masterfully placed fart, can make an entire army flee at the first whiff of you!
written by
"Me, or maybe.....It wasn't Me"
The written publication of this highly classified, extremely sought after, and lustfully desirable instructional information, has come as a result of an inquiry made by a certain individual who's name will remain undisclosed, in order that the lives of the presently, seemingly innocent, may be safe guarded.
The inquiring individual, whom will certainly and most undoubtedly, beyond any imaginable, humanly possible degree of doubt, be shamelessly, far more culpable than even the deadliest, most incriminating sin itself. So it will be upon his attaining this, most dangerous of any, and all, information ever known within the entire realm of the earth.
That is without question.
Considering that he previously disclosed the diabolical nature of his treacherously sinister, future intentions. Unwittingly doing so, precisely at that moment in which he asked the most ardently forbidden of all known, ardently forbidden questions.
That reproachfully remorseless question,
inquiring as follows;
"How does one go about the task of achieving the successful entrapment and preservation of ones own flatulence...specifically for the purpose of enabling their activation as a readily available source of biochemical weaponry, for a future application" ?
==============================================================
"DANGER"!
Reading the material beyond this point,
is done at the readers own peril.
==============================================================
"WARNING"!
The information contained in the following text,
is indefensibly, intensely corrupting.
All readers will be irreversibly rendered,
absolutely "irredeemable"
==============================================================
"If you have proceeded to this point".........
What The "F#@%" Is Wrong With You"?
==============================================================
You are certainly the most unspeakably despicable
and repulsively repugnant creature
to have ever savored
a slithering slide throughout the
slimy sewers of the world...
simply for desiring to know the following information!
==============================================================
Historically, the problem with trapping one's own farts and saving them for later (as with the "mason jar" method) is that they lose their furiously fuming freshness. Farts are perishable, in that their admirable ability to make one's enemies perish, rapidly becomes dreadfully diminished.
To put it quite simply, stale stench will soon become deplorably depleted of its deliberately designed, debilitating duty. This devastating deduction deteriorates their inexplicably perplexing, pervasive power. Such a woefully worrisome waning of a well blown, warm, wild wind withers it's peril producing potency.
I will instruct you in the most magnificent method that can possibly be applied to your quest of achieving this extremely elusive and immemorially antiquated, anal aspiration. Historically, it has been a persistently perpetuated, passionate pursuit of man. Its derived from a deeply drawn desire for a destined deliverance to the discovery of this universally yearned for, fanatically fancied, fabulous, fart feat.
A quest which throughout the ages, has mostly produced the shameful utterance, describing the utter failure of all attempts at it's accomplishment. It's been one of mankind's greatest desires. The magnitude of the desire, matched only by the degree to which its fulfillment is lacking.
Man has agonizingly longed for the ability to succeed in the "preservation of flatulence". "Man", is specified regarding gender...since, as is commonly known, flatulence is completely foreign & unbeknown to "Woman".
To begin with, most of the history regarding the pursuit of obtaining or developing a technology capable of perpetuating the putrid production of the permeating poison which was originally purged purely by way of the pooter, has been a history of excessive exertions. Inevitably resulting in verifiable, vast amounts of pushing pressures while rupturing many veins, but repeatedly done only in vain.
Mans fruitless efforts continued until the advent of refrigeration. But when comparing refrigeration's relatively punctuated existence to the seemingly endless sands of time in which man has relentlessly pursued the ability to conserve his completely corrupted, clear clouds of concentrated contamination and organic condemnation, it's as if refrigeration was invented merely yesterday...perhaps, only this morning. However, it is more specifically, the freezer, or refrigeration on steroids, which is what one truly needs in order to manufacture satisfactory, rock-solid results.
The first step in this modernly devised, technologically sophisticated process is to.....open the freezer door. One may become befuddled and bewildered as a result of being the proud proprietor of a considerably sized, electrically energized, kitchen clustering contraption.
However, your advantageously acquired, previously abandoned, appliance may have been complicatedly, colossally configured with the freezer door above the refrigerator door. Thus, making the freezer door's lofty location one which is well out of reach...due to the lesser elevation of one's naturally statured ass.
In order that one may overcome this demonstrably daunting difficulty of tremendously tricky technicalities, it may be necessary for one to sensibly spring for, and acquire, the services of a sturdy, stable, step ladder.
Upon becoming unfailingly empowered and reaching the appropriate elevation...resulting in the prize producing, posterior positioning, which has been perfectly placed with the polished precision of a paid professional.
One may now become profusely emboldened and proud...pronounced with a profoundly prodigious poise. Pleasurably proceeding with an absolute crowned confidence in the uncontested, coveted competence of his courageously creative cunning. The objective is achieved by gracefully grunting the correctly calculated, and liberally applied, generous dispensation of purgative energy to one's spectacularly sparkling, spicy sphincter.
Immediately after producing the desired amount of grievously ghastly, gurgling, gaseous gloom, one must decisively and rapidly, without the slightest inkling of hesitation, close the freezer door...before the cheek chafing chill checks into your chum chasm like a chunk of cheap, chewing gum...freeze sticking your charming pair of center chopped, chubby chuck roasts to each other as they chillingly chatter like a couple of gossiping Chilean cheerleaders...
choking your chapped channel full of ice as if you were wearing only chaps on a last chance charge through uncharted Arctic waters on a cheap, cheesy charter...requiring your chamber to get chipped out with a chisel.
Leaving you like a choice chick cheated out of her cherished, chaste cherry on a chain and exchanged for a chipmunk chewed, charred chestnut...as on a chimpanzee with a checkered past and a chirpy childhood case of Chinese Shit-hole Chickenpox.
So don't wallow in your wickedly whirling weed-killer wind. Nor slowly waddle your wily, Dixieland whistling wind-maker out of there. Because if you start to feel a frigidly frosty, frisky fulfillment on your woolly, whiskered wagon wheel...or if that whipping, wintry wind is whisking through your wedge and wooing your wind-tunnel with a wickedly whetted, whispering wink...don't stick around unless you've often wished your ol' brown eye be made blue! That ain't no time for witty wisecracks, but for fast-forward motion, boundless, booty boogie.
If you feel that you are particularly talented at the tail end of things, you may wish to discover if you might be anally adept enough to include the use of ice trays. In that manner you can be the proud possessor of perfectly shaped, symmetrically frozen flatulence.
You can even attempt to make..."Stink On A Stick"!
The solidified state of your scathing stench can now be tolerably toted to within range of a variety of tactfully targeted and, soon to be, traumatically tortured individuals. That is, until the laws of physics inevitably begin to release the tear-jerking terror that is contained within your fearsomely fragrant and fatally configured frozen foulness!
Good Luck!
...and remember, knowledge is power!
But a knowledgeably produced and masterfully placed fart, can make an entire army flee at the first whiff of you!
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