I'm Pam Newman.
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I'm a writer of aricles, poems & songs. Here's some cool stuff I wrote.
"And indeed," she replied. "The fact of the matter is that my mouth has been home to many bits of soy, pinto and other legumes."
He turned his head toward the window, while keeping his eyes connected to hers. “Be that as it may, are you not a lady? Or are you simply a heathen in disguise?”
"My bowels are no different from your own!" she exclaimed with a passion that startled him. "They cause me discomfort when I hold back the wind wanting to be free. The warm, arrogant wind which you ditest."
As she poured the end of her statement from her lips, she grasped her skirt up, teetered to the side, and let out a totally rank, gnarly fart.
"Beans, beans the musical fruit," she sang. "The more you eat, the more you poot."