Jenny's Farts? Oh, Really? I'll kill you.

That's funny. No, seriously, that's hillarious. I turn my back on this blog for one second and I'm slandered.

I just want, before i do my daily confession, to tell a story about one time when I farted.

I made a tiny toot, and suddenly Jake Gyllenhall came up to me, and he was all weepy, and he was like, "finally, i've made it to Mt. Olympus, home of Hera and her Husband/Brother Zeus. I can tell that I am at Mt. Olympus because it smells like AMBROSIA, the nectar of the gods."

And then I tooted one more tiny toot and Elton John was like, "My stylings in the award winning "The Lion King" are shits compared to the symphony that I just heard.

And then i made just one more tooty toot, and Hnery James rose from his grave and said, "you can say that again! what a piece of prose, " but then Wallace Stevens burst in as a ghost with Edith Wharton and they were like, "it's a new genre."

So i'm not really sure who wrote that posting about [jenny's] farts, because, just like a coward, THEY LEFT NO SIGNATURE, but I'd like to say that it's obviously not true. And to the weakling who didn't sign his/her masterpiece of a posting, i ask you this: Where would the declaration of independance be if Mr. Ben Franklin had not signed it? I'm not sure, but I'm pretty sure that he took a risk by signing his name, and that's why we don't pay exorbitant taxes on tea and tarrifs or whatever. All you did was put yourself on a list to get your house robbed and your tits cut.
I'd also like to say that sometimes I go into bakeries and while I'm waiting for my coffee, I rise on my toes and extend my arms, and people are inevitably like, "oh, are you a dancer," and I say, softly, "not any more." But i was really never a ballet dancer, and am bad at dancing, but I do it on purpose because I like people to think that I'm a ballet dancer who has just moved on.

I sign this, proudly and clearly.
Love,
Jenny Sarah Slate