By Bernie Bates
The following subject may be offensive to some readers. If you are sensitive or if there are mature people in the room – please be advised to stop reading at this point or you may laugh so hard, you may accidentally ‘rip’ one.
This subject is about something we’ve all done, yet, we’ve all lied about it, when asked: “Did you fart?” Yes, my loyal readers, the subject I’ve chosen to write about, is the humble passing of gas from your ass. And the reason I decided to shed light on this taboo topic, is because, one day, my wife and I were alone in an aisle at a local store, when I cut the cheese – and oh, what a smelly cheese it was!
Now, don’t get holier than thou – I know you too, have committed the same crime against society. It’s just a part of nature’s calling, right? So, we’re all adults, so let’s address this issue with all the humour it deserves.
What is a flatulent? According to my dictionary, it’s; generating gas in alimentary canal. But, really, how funny is that? I intend to take the sophomoric approach to get to the bottom of this touchy topic, delve into every nook and cranny and exhaust all orifices, to bring you the truth on toots.
In my research on Native traditions, I came across an item that I thought was very peculiar. Evidently, it was traditional for a groom to: ‘Buffalo blanket’ his new bride. The idea was to get her used to the smell of her new husband. It was a Native tradition to pull the buffalo blanket over his betrothed’s head as she slept, then ‘blow the peace pipe.’ And I’m proud to report that I’m a traditionalist.
As most things in life: there’s a time and a place, for everything. One doesn’t tilt to one side and let loose a goose call, at a fancy dinner party. Nor is it acceptable to unplug the cork on a first date. But (pun intended), if you really have to go or simply can’t hold it back – there are ways to avoid embarrassment. S. B. D. (Silent But Deadly) has been used since the time of the caveman. To employ this method you must first; make sure it’s not an audible air burst, secondly, never stand in one place as you release and third, wait for the effects to make themselves known, then look from side to side and whisper to another guest: “Do you smell that? Some people … eh?” I wouldn’t be a responsible writer if I failed to inform my readers of the dangers that could occur, if you were to accidentally blow you own horn, at the same time you passed by an open flame … “Oh, My!” Like most of my wit-lit: it comes from life’s experiences. I was visiting my dear old Auntie, Doreen, at a logging camp she cooked for. “If you’re going to the outhouse, take these matches with you,” she grinned, “when you sit down, light a match and hold it next to your bum.” Curious, I did as she instructed …. BOOM! I damn near fell down the hole! And to this very day – I can’t help but think of her, every time I windy-fuffle.
Back to the inspiration for this column. As my lady love and I were strolling down an empty isle of Zellers, I laid the mother of all stink bombs. And wouldn’t you know it … at that very moment a clerk came around the corner. Thinking quickly; I accelerated past my wife toward the unsuspecting clerk, then waited until he walked into the gaseous cloud, at which point I curled my nose and exclaimed: “Euww, Janet, yuck!” Then made a hasty retreat, before they knew what hit them. Yeah, yeah! I’m a bad man … bla, bla, bla. Like you’ve never farted ‘n’ parted!
We’ve all done the deed: not even the Queen of England, can deny that she’s not ripped a royal one. There are those who think theirs doesn’t stink and that they live in rarefied air, but it’s just not true. Perfumed poo-foo, exits all creatures, both big and small – even though I’ve never heard or smelled one, I’m sure, the birds and bees do it, too. So the next time people around you notice an odious odor – lift your nose proudly and lie: “Don’t look at me, I didn’t do it!”
Dear reader: Please feel free to contact, B. H. Bates at: firstname.lastname@example.org