Malodorous Meanderings

Today, I thought I’d write about farting -- flatulence, passing gas, pooting, what have you.

When I was a kid, my brother and I had endless arguments about whether farts were brown or green. My brother always argued that they were green, as anything rancid had to be green, like fungus. I argued that they were brown, because they smelled similar to shit, so they had to be brown. We ended up just agreeing to disagree on the topic.

As the older brother, he set a fine example of grossness for me to follow. When I was a toddler, he got a lot of mileage from playing the “pull my finger” prank on me. No matter how many times he did this, we’d both crack up about it every time.

On Thanksgiving the year that I was twelve, my brother half rose from his chair at the dinner table and let a loud one rip. My mother totally lost it and told him to leave the table and go to his room. He was 25 at the time, but he knew he’d fucked up, so he went. It was all I could do to keep from rolling all over the floor laughing my ass off.

Sometimes when out in public, we all feel the need to fart. Most of us will try to find a spot well away from others, such as a deserted aisle in a store, to let one go. But I tend to have the luck that no sooner than I’ve pushed one out and the stench is all around me like bad perfume, than someone comes along and catches a whiff. If there’s no one else around, they know who did it. There’s no dog anywhere in sight to blame it on.

I can remember going to the grocery store several times with my father in the last few years of his life. He enjoyed the company and the chance to talk with me without his wife listening. One time while we were in the store, I heard a “poot-poot-poot” sound as we walked along, with no attempt to hide it or get away from others to do it. And I was the one stuck smelling it. When I commented about it, he said, “I’m old; I can get away with it now. And I don’t give a damn anymore if anyone smells it.”

One thing I really hate is having a bad cold and gas at the same time, so that every time you get into a coughing fit, you’re farting along in time with the coughs. The very worst thing is to cough, sneeze and fart at the same time. Not an experience I’d recommend. The only thing worse would be to be hiccupping at the same time as well.

I had this job about ten years ago, where one of my coworkers got off on public farting and stinking up the workplace. His usual tactic was to stand behind a group of people and let a silent one go, then quickly walk away before the stench rose to full strength. He’d even fart in front of a fan to make sure the stink distributed far and wide. His nickname around the plant was “Chief Brown Cloud”.

There’s a certain protocol when it comes to farting and lovers. With a new lover, letting one rip in front of them is definitely the kiss of death. I know I’ve stood stock still with my cheeks clamped together until the urge to fart passes, to keep from farting in their presence. With an established lover, it’s bombs away! I know I’ve reached a certain point in the relationship, when a lover and I fart freely in front of each other and even joke about it.

Enough of this. Time to go find the Lysol and give my blog a good spraying…