Have you ever woken up of a hungover morning, snuffled out of your slumber and let off a thunderous, smelly fart only to realise that the warmth in the bed emanates not from your gaseous emission but from the lover you've been working so hard to impress?
I haven't, of course. Girls don't fart.
We save them all until bathtime, and then we make bubbles.
I haven't, of course. Girls don't fart.
We save them all until bathtime, and then we make bubbles.
