In Polish "fart" means good luck

And I wonder if the Little White Guys were aware of sending us off with these well wishes or if they were just spontaneously venting thier love when they left the last party of the conference in room 614 on friday night.

For those of you who weren't with us, let me quickly summarise the night when the MadMagz devolved into MadMagMinis. I think it was the combination of the booze we finally managed to amass and the smokables that a) were prevelant b)where miraculously procured by Niko, aka "The Intoxicator" and the general good vibe of 614 aka "Bitch City". Whatever the reason, the effect was like the fountain of youth. Maybe even... the fire hose of youth. Everyone got silly. The Bitches rounded off the evening with summersaults on their beds - a contest won hands down by John "tummble" Rod and recorded by Hecter [share, dude!]. The ever proper Little White Guys choose this as their cue to evacuate, which they did with charm and model politeness. They left and we thought that was that. Untill. We heard. From the hall. The thunder clap of ass gass released under tremendus pressure at such audio velocities that the whole party frooze as thier shirts and skirts billowed in the... um.. breeze. I run to the hall and saw the Little White Guys in their true form: Danny unbending from assult position and running helter scelter into 607 to the joyous whoopings of his not-so-proper-after-all friends. I haven't seen a stunt like that since my brother sat on my face with his bare butt and farted when we were 7 years old. Way to go guys!

The grand exit award goes to them, as the editor bitch and I concluded that night giggling ourselves to sleep. Unless of course someone has another nomination??? Speak up! - Publisher Bitch