A Whole Post About Farts

I had a thought recently, as my stomach grumbled following a meal during which I had far too much of something that disagreed with my digestive system.

It was mid day, in the middle of the week, and as such I was working. Given that I work from home, I wasn’t very concerned with my gastrointestinal pyrotechnics, but there was once a time when it would have been an inconvenience.

Being a human being, and not a particularly unique one as far as biology goes, I thought that this must be a pretty significant problem for most other folks. Makes sense since there are gas-x and beano commercials all the time, I thought to myself.

But it’s really not so much a big deal for me, as I work from home most of the time, alone, and even still with a little desk fan blowing in my face, so most of the time, although I’m sure I’m pretty offensive, I never really even know it. Not too many jobs can boast that same thing.

I started wondering just how many jobs there are like this. I suppose there are a fair number of jobs where you could get a way with it. Cab driver, for example, since cabs always stink to high heaven to begin with. That guy in the wicked high cranes, sitting in that cab, dangling things high above the earth… It’s windy up there, and he’s alone, so…. Perhaps cops. Cause, who’s gonna say anything, right? I guess any job where you’re alone, and not dealing with other people and there’s at least fair ventilation would be suitable, right?

Perhaps the perfect job for it though would be stand up comedian. If done right, he could work it into his act, you know? “So I’m glad I’m finally up here on the stage, cause I really had to fart, and now there’s nobody nearby. I can let fly, and then I can even just mozy on over to the other end of the stage, so even I don’t have to be bothered by it. Just drag and drop it on my way. You know it’s a bad one when the comedian is the only one in the place laughing, and everyone else is looking at each other goin ‘he didn’t say anything…'”

Then I started wondering what would be the worst jobs to have during a time like that…

Playing Center on a football team… Imagine being bent over, about to hike the ball, the quarterback with his hands up between your legs, calling out numbers, and you’re going “Jesus Christ, say ‘HUT’ already…”

If the job still exists, being an elevator operator for a tall hotel. When you’re alone, not such a big deal, but you’re in an elevator… That’s not going anywhere. It’s going to hit people like  a punch in the face when the get on, and if Murphy is paying attention, which he always is, they’re going to be going at least a dozen floors… And they are going to know who it was. You can’t exactly blame it on them.

I’ve had a history of being that guy though, cause like most guys, I think farts are hysterical, especially when you can let them creep out and sneak up on someone. You can bet, that if there’s a crowded train, and I’m on it, that there will be people looking around shocked and appalled. I’ll be the guy who isn’t. I’ll be straining not to burst into hysterical laughter. The effort will be obvious on my face.

Perhaps the worst time I’ve ever done that though, was leaving an office building that I’d taken a seminar in with a dozen other folks, four or five of whom were from my work. We were waiting for the elevator, and it was taking forever. I REALLY, HONESTLY, SWEAR TO GOD, was trying to wait until we got outside, but Murphy had my number, and he was in a mood.

I moved myself away from the crowd who was waiting for the elevator, and decompressed. Sure enough, the doors opened, and I hadn’t gone far enough away to leave it all in the hallway. I dragged the worst of it in with me. The elevator was somewhat crowded, so when I got on, I didn’t get the chance to turn around, so I was facing the whole crowd in the elevator. I steeled my face as best I could, but my co-worker looked at me like “you bastard,” and I started to crack.

We went down one floor, and the elevator stopped. More people got on. The faces of the strangers clearly showed they were disgusted. More fuel for the giggle-fire. Nobody said anything though. Most of them just watched me in a terrible giggle fit.

We continued the remaining three floors, and you could practically hear people wishing the doors would open faster. When they finally did, a couple people got out, giving me room to turn around. When I did, I realized the poor bastard behind me was in a wheel chair, and his face had been less than a foot from my arse for three floors of what must have been pure hell.

I have never laughed so hard, and felt so bad at the same time, as I did that day. When I die, I know that’s going to come up, and I’m going to have no recourse but to throw myself on the mercy of the court. It was unintentional. It was regrettable. It was f*cking funny.

Your turn.

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2 thoughts on “A Whole Post About Farts

  1. I think God loves farts and fart jokes. Why else would He have made them sound so ridiculously funny? And made the silent ones even worse? We probably die and the first thing we encounter at the pearly gates is a stench unlike anything we’ve ever smelled before. If you giggle – or, at least, don’t become obnoxiously holier-than-thou – you get in. Otherwise, you go to hell, where everyone eats nothing but beans and cabbage.

    • Hah, yeah, I can’t imagine getting all “Holier-than-thou” at the gates would be good for anyone. Didn’t work out for Lucifer, after all…

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