lamenotlame

So I am currently wallowing in my own stench, waiting to be sure my awake roommate is done with the washroom for the night. It's really not in my character to be embarrassed about farts, faeces, poop, crap, etc. Actually it's more like the worlds longest running gag- one that I will always always find funny. Increasingly though, I have begun to tone down the poop talk around mixed company, as I don't want to illicit unnecessary feelings of disgust, disdain, nausea, horror, repulsion ... I could go on... as I have in the past. Plus it's a new roomie and the only one I haven't 'talked shop' with. Trivia: Last week another of the roommates (there are 3 in all) declared my name to be The Burpist, as I take burping to an art form. Only took 6 weeks of living here!
Maybe it was the fries from the chip truck (veggie oil, but still), or maybe it was the solid week of drinking, or maybe the unusually large amount of cheese, or the onion tofu curry?. Probably it was a little bit of each. Whatever the cause, the effect has been two days of sporadic (sidebar: clueless forever ruined that word for me), intense pain, and a race to the washroom. You know when you have gas that is bad enough to get those around you genuinely pissed off and frustrated? That was yesterday. Today is worse.
seriously this smell is one for the record books. Im actually worried that it has escaped the cracks of my door and seeped into the roommates room.