burping Queen

I’m a burper.  I just really like to burp, it feels good and I get a wee-bit of pride from just letting one rip.  I could never burp when I was younger no matter how many burping contests I attempted with the lil’ bro, or lessons he tried to give me, I was belching-retarded.  So, now it makes me happy.  Like a little girl. 

I recently took up drinking root beer floats at home.  Really, it’s diet A&W with heavy cream thrown in.  Delicious!  It really helps with my post dinner sweet tooth.  It gives me incredible belches though, big loud root beer-scented mouth exhaust.  Nothing makes me burp like root beer.  Not even real beer.  So, for the past week or so I’ve been just lettin’ em loose.  Even milking them for optimal volume and length.  The Man expressed to me that a burping girlfriend is not the most appealing thing in the world, so I’ve been trying to contain my gassy mouth explosions.  By buying a 12-pack of diet Barq’s, stashing it in the fridge at work and drinking one every afternoon.  Again, mock-float style (I swear the heavy cream consumption has not added to my waist line, I drink it in my multiple cups of coffee too).  I would never dare let it rip while at work.  The office is so quiet, the attorneys would be appalled.  Appalled I tell you!

If there ever happened to be a root beer alcohol drink served at bars, the place would be in trouble.  I’d be ordering, guzzling and fogging the joint up like no tomorrow.  And happy hour around here is so quiet that people would truly be appalled.  I might even just decide to carry an extra bottle of diet A&W (I never drink the real stuff) in my purse and just purchasing shots of vodka to mix in it.  Or rum.  A rum and root beer.  A hard root beer float.  That would be a post-work piece of heaven.  There’d be no containing me, I’d have to release the gut gas.  Oh boy, how red would the Man’s face be then!

I’m considering this a Valentine’s Day gift to the Man.  A lady-like lady.  I make my efforts.