Kick-start my fart. Two of farts (I need you… I need you).
His farts were more disgusting and memorable to audiences than French whores!
A dream is a wish your fart makes.
It’s enough to pull at my fart strings, but it doesn’t change my mind.
Jenny’s face contorts into a magnificent look of horror, like someone is skewering puppies with hot pokers.
I notice that the green chiffon of my skirt has passed over a candle…
Krissy would like the world to know the following:
Krissy Eliot writes things that are funny, shameless, and satisfyingly disgusting. She's had Gonzo-style sex columns in the San Francisco Bay Guardian and Bay Area Reporter, covered controversial science as an editor at UC Berkeley's California magazine, and has even worked as a writer in the aerospace industry. Krissy believes in living a life worth writing about, which is why she gets nearly trampled in political protests, infiltrates "orgasmic meditation" cults, and spends nights in the woods with Bigfoot hunters. You can find Krissy on History Channel shows talking about cryptids and UFOs. You can also find her doing live fiction readings in Portland, Oregon, telling tales of pumpkin-spiced obsessed vampires and lobotomies delivered via anal beads. Check out her work at www.krissyeliot.com. Oh, and if you're an agent, don't be shy. She wants you too.
At long last, the long-waited story everyone has asked for. Thank you, Krissy!
