This evening’s conversation between Charlie and I:
Me - I want to teach myself how to fanny fart on command...CAN YOU IMAGINE THE POSSIBILITIES?!
Charlie - You either need to stop drinking, or drink more so you can't talk anymore.
Me - Seriously, just for a moment, think about the potential situations in which that could be an awesome ability to have.
I'm also pretty sure you could change the pitch of each queef as you liked depending on the way in which you let the air pass over your lips…
Best non-trombone, trombone slide sound EVER
Charlie – I don’t think you should be fanny farting on command. I think you should be able to manipulate your vagina on command and learn to throw your voice *evil grin*
Gynaecology appointments would suddenly become the best fun ever
Me – I should NOT be allowed to have that power. I would RUIN all of my one night stands FOREVER
Charlie – Worth it.
Me – Just holding a normal conversation as they’re doing their prep then, when they get all speculum on you vag, just muffle the sound of the voice.
“Yes, the weather was quite lovely in France. Must be sure to head there again next summer vacation *speculum insertous* alfthough I musft pshay the baggueetsh leafsh a bit to be deshiered”
Charlie – Would help you pick the perfect woman…she would be the one who would laugh at the performance and then offer you theatrical tips. Like how to impersonate the queen and Elmer Fudd and shit.
Me – This is true…as long as there’s no impromptu Sylvester style voices it should be fine.
Charlie – Or Daffy or Donald Ducks. Then you’re back to queefs.
Me – I don’t know if it’s still a queef if there’s substance. Like farts becoming sharts.
Charlie – Oh dear
Me – Juieefs – Juicy queefs
Weefs – Wet queefs
SQUEEFS!! Squelchy queefs
Charlie – You’re mental!
Me – And now you’ll never be able to hear someone say “Squee” ever again without thinking of this.