Tonight I drank 11 cans of Carling export and then had a few shorts. Prior to this I had consumed an average size portion of a bolognaise type concoction served with pasta shells and cheese topping. I have never had this mixture of scran and alcohol before. I never want this mixture again as about an hour ago I backfired. The gaseous odour I expelled was what can only be described as obnoxious. It was not the type of fart that is instantaneous in its nausea inducing effect. It climbed by stealth up the inside of my cargo pants and when I went to stand and disturbed the waist band seal it burst forth and grabbed me. At first it arrived in the form of dead rats, but swiftly changed to a vomit inducing odour like rotting flesh topped with Gorgonzola. Initially the cat coughed, then stood up erect and with a short wail commenced to wretch in its basket, before attempting to do the hundred yard dash, which ended abruptly when it collided with the closed sliding doors. The wife on receiving her portion as it drifted stealthily across the lounge, tried to utter a curse, but this was cut short as the full aroma arrived and began ripping out her taste buds and attacking her nasal pipes. She kind of muttered and then got caught up in the rush for the door when the stench hit the rest of the gathered ensemble. I of course mouthed what the fuck is that smell and innocently joined the stampede for fresh air. As the crowed stood in the garden collectively asking who in hell did that? I casually stated that the cat had been unwell all week and did anyone observe how he had tried to vacate the premises just as the awful nasal assaulting venom had struck. All agreed what a filthy animal it is and the collective opinion at the present time is that such an animal should be put down. Christ hope they don't discover the truth, the vet hate's me as is.