I know a girl named Cory. She thinks she's cool. I've talked about her before here.

Anyway, I was talking to my sister tonight and she informed me that Cory had broken her wrist over the weekend while playing dodgeball. The Boy and I watched Dodgeball a couple weeks ago. It was pretty funny...although I think the PG-13 rating was a little weak....

Anyway, you expect people to break their wrists snowboarding or playing hockey or football or something...but dodgeball? Completely ridiculous.

Unless of course you are Cory. She not only thinks she is cool....she is VERY competitive. I can just picture her flying through the air, checking everyone in site to avoid a ball as she fell to the ground - only to hear that crisp, clean snap of her wrist bone breaking (radius or ulna....I'm not sure) as she landed.

But I still think she could have picked a cooler activity than dodgeball if she was going to fall on her sword and break her wrist.....

Okay, only a couple of you know my real name (like family and a couple close blogger friends) so I guess I can tell this story. Every time I think about it I laugh my ass off...to the point of tears.

Anyway....my first job at a hi-tech company was in Utah (won't tell you the name of the company...sorry). Scytheboy was about 2 and Tommy was deployed somewhere - probably in Saudi or an exercise or school somewhere.

But I digress. Anyway....it was always good to get out of the office for lunch. On one particular day.....I had just moved over from an administrative position to a pure marketing role, and some of my co-workers were going to lunch. They wanted to go to this Mexican place that I'd been to before, but the food had not agreed with me. But it was a chance to get out of the office, so what the hell? It was probably going to be my main meal of the day since I had a tendency to pick up Scytheboy, feed him, play with him, give him a bath and put him to bed...eat very little....and then get right back on the computer to continue working.

Anyway...I went with them to the place so I would at least eat something substantial that day (can I just mention that I looked HOT back then....business dress suits size 6 with heels...oh yeah, those were the days).

So....we went to eat (don't worry, the gastric moment is coming). We drive back to the office, and we're in MG's cube with BB chatting a little before we get back to work...and....I feel it....the dreaded....silent....DEALDY ONE!!!!! It silently escapes my outer gastric region...throgh my hose....out the bottom of the skirt.

I quickly excuse myself and walk back to my cube which is exactly two cubes down and across the narrow cube hallway. Then....I hear it....

MG: "Did you just fart?"

BB: "No, I didn't fart. Oh, my GOD! Did you do that?!"

Me: Laughing silently, holding it in with such fervor that my face is bright red and tears are streaming down my face...but alas....some giggles escape.

MB: "Wait a minute..."

There I am...head in hands, tears streaming down my face, trying to laugh silently, kleenex in hand, hose clad legs crossed....I turn around...and....there they are....BB and MG standing in the door of my cube.

MG (hands on hips, face red, small grin on his face): "It was you, wasn't it?"

BB (giggling jovially): "It WAS you, wasn't it? Ha...ha ha ha ha...."

I have never been so embarrassed in my life.

And there's your funny gastric moment....courtesy of me.

Cheers.