Making sense of my adventures with women, one disaster at a time.

My Greatest Accomplishment

I have had my triumphs in the past with hot women, but out of all the stories I have written, it is this mini story I consider perhaps my greatest achievement.


On the first day of 2009, Axe, Jason, and I met up with three girls at the Hilton, Las Vegas, just off the strip and not our choice of hotel. We’d hooked up with them the previous night at Casino Royale while playing craps. They were cute then, but abominable the next day. Considering we were in the wake of an eight-hour New Year’s Eve booze binge, we expected the gargantuan drop-off in their appearance. Having eaten a sloppy chilidog at six-thirty in the morning for a “late night snack,” I had the farts. Real bad. Not the quick ones. The slow, lingering ones.


On the way to their hotel room, I laid a fart in the hallway: the foreshock.


Once in the room, it was conceivable to hold in my farts out of respect for oxygen. Due to the disappointment in the quality of these three girls, I decided not to hold in any follow-up farts. I unleashed…in their room…with no regard for human life.


Results of the first fart:


Jason: “Oh come on!”

Axe: [Laughing]

Girl 1: “Oh my God!” [Runs to bathroom]

Girl 2: “….and then there were these guys trying to—WHAT THE FUCK!? OH MY GOD!!! WHAT IS THAT?!” [Runs to bathroom]

Girl 3: [Runs to bathroom]

Me: [Laughing uncontrollably]


The girls stayed in the bathroom for three minutes, finally venturing out cautiously. The complaining continued. From everyone.


Two minutes later, I had to fart again. This time I actually considered other people’s feelings, ultimately deciding to unleash anyway.


Results of the second fart: Bad.


A few moments after detonation, the girls ran into the bathroom, this time in a flurry of screams and shrieks. Shortly after, one of the girls came ventured out exclaiming, “Oh my God! Jan is puking!” 


It had to be a joke, but I had to see or smell it for myself. Still laughing from the bathroom sprints I’d triggered, I walked in the bathroom’s direction. I could see the open hotel room door, and in the doorway stood Jan, holding a see-through trash bag full of orange vomit.


“I think you guys had better go,” Girl 1 said. We left the room.




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