To get us started, I thought I'd offer up one of my own TMI Stories:
Whenever I'm on the rag, I fart. Constantly. The least little thing will set me off. Fortunately (depending on what I've eaten), the farts don't really stink and aren't even all that loud or noticeable, although my body seems to contain enough gas during this one week to fill the area of Jupiter or some other similar gas giant. I could probably support an entire methane-breathing ecosystem on my own whenever Aunt Flo comes to town.
So what happens to you when you're on the rag?
- Rag Stories -- Add Yours Here!