“Every person has a slightly different collection of bacteria and yeasts in their gut, and each organism contributes a slightly different nuance to the overall fragrance and volume of gas. Just as a fine wine keeps the palate stimulated with a variety of taste “notes,” each person’s unique batch of intestinal organisms lends shading to the stench of their farts. Your roommate (and my brother, apparently) simply have a collection of organisms that produce a horrid, malodorous, voluminous reek.”
“In 1997, Chester Weimer was granted patent No. 5593398 entitled “Protective underwear with malodorous flatus filter.” The undergarment has a pocket on the rear that has a replaceable activated charcoal packet, which the subject farts through. The sound and odor are muffled by passage through the filter. I’d suggest buying a pair for your roommate and see if they work. If they do, you’ll be living in a more fart-free environment. If they don’t you will have a hilarious story to tell your friends. Either way it’s win-win for you.”
I have to get me some of these underwears…
Have you ever played that game “Would You Rather”? You know, you ask someone a “would you rather” question, like “Would you rather always smell like fish or always have bad breath?” The question is then answered and a furious and emotional debate about the correct answer ensues. (For those curious, the correct answer to the aforementioned questioned is “bad breath”. If you don’t agree with me, you’re wrong.)
I need you to answer this one for me. Would you rather have an average amount of gas that smells pretty nasty most of the time, or have copious amounts of gas that only carry a stench about 10% of the time? Wait. Before you answer, consider this. Along with the nasty gas comes the inability to hold it in. Whereas, with the over-gaseous bowels, you would be blessed with a strong sphincter, able to withstand hours of bowel-shaking, monster truck force from within.
Again, the answer is quite clear. Give me the gaseous giant any day. I speak from experience. My wife would beg to differ. She also speaks from experience. You see, she has the uncanny inability to keep her farts sealed up tight in order to release them in an appropriate location. It doesn’t matter if we’re in church, in an elevator or in a small gathering with a group of friends, she just opens up and drops those stank nast bombs when they come knocking on the door. Granted, the frequency of said occurrence is low, but the risk is oh so high. Unless of course your husband is right next to you during the crop dusting, then he’s the one who’s naturally blamed for the unsavory aroma.
On the other hand, I can chose the most appropriate place to drop my LBH’s (Loud But Harmless). Whether that be during a quick trip to the john or in my little brother’s face. The point is, it’s much more advantageous to have complete control over such a powerful tool even if it does mean a few more gas cramps than the average bowel. Help me out here.
Please tell me I’m not the crazy one in this relationship.
It’s an age-old mystery. You let out the rankest, thickest, post-legume eating air biscuit and while everyone around you quickly vacates the premises with a look of sheer disgust, you stand there, liberally breathing in and admiring your thunder from down under. Even as I write this on the dooker, I’m basking in the aroma that fills the room with a sense of accomplishment/comfort. Is it something nature has built into us so we can mark our territory in the wilderness? Or is it something we develop the more time we spend with our gas and poop?
At any rate, this super power we possess opens the door for many opportunities of teasing and torture, my two favorite of which are covered wagons and cup o’ farts. For those unfortunate enough to not know what I’m referring to, allow me to explain. You’re laying in bed with your spouse and have the sudden urge to release some vaporized poo. Not wanting to let this opportunity go to waste, you let it out and before your spouse has the opportunity to exit the bed, you pull the covers over her head and trap her in the foul stench. You have just executed a flawless covered wagon.
Then we have the cup o’ fart. This sly trick can be executed at any time and in any location. All you need is your hand, a ready-to-be-released barking spider and a poor, unsuspecting target. When you’re ready, you drop the stinker into your open palm and quickly close it, trapping in the fart bubbles, only to be released under the nose of the aforementioned target. Years ago, a friend of mine took the cup o’ fart to a whole new level and introduced me to the jar of farts. He successfully trapped a nasty butt trumpet in a mason jar which he let ferment on his bedroom shelf. The concoction was released 6 months later under the nose of his dad who first dry heaved, then chased him around the house, cursing his name.