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we interrupt the warblogging to bring you...

A fart story.

Jay was writing about Bigwig's stellar post regarding Madonna and farting when he made this statement:

Women may not think it's so funny. After all, it has a fart theme, and only men could giggle and snicker at something as disgusting as flatulence. But we do, and I did when reading it.

How sexist. First, we hear that women love peace and bunnies and think wars are icky. Now, Jay's trying to tell me that only men giggle at farts? Hah!

I refer you to exhibit A, first posted here on March 13, 2002:

story time: a (true )fart story

I'm in the public bathroom at the credit union. There's a woman in the stall next to me and she's making some really strange noises. Now, I have farts on my mind lately, because I am reading Stephen King's Dreamcatcher and there's a whole lot about farting in this book so far. Evil farting, borne of aliens and anal probes. And the sound coming from the stall next to me sounds much like I imagined the characters in the book would sound.

She's got expensive leather shoes on and stockings with a seam running up the back. Her purse is on the floor, some designer logo I don't recognize attached to it. She's a sharp-dressed, well-off woman, I can tell that much. And she's farting up a storm.

I sit there trying to think of how to react. Because I really have to react, out of courtesy. I mean, she knows I'm in there, right? So she's probably pretty embarassed. She's going to wait for me to leave the stall, wash my hands and exit out of the bathroom before she dares to even stand up. I feel bad for her. I want to make her feel less embarassed.

So I think, ok....I can do one of two things. I can hightail it out of there, so she doesn't have to face me. But what if she heads over to the food court right behind me and I recognize those Italian shoes and she recognizes my platform heels and she turns red with shame as she realizes I am telling everyone on the food line about the flatulent woman in the high heeled shoes I just encountered? The other thing I can do is fart. If I let one out, she'll feel less alone in her shame, maybe we will both giggle a little, come out and wash our hands and burst into full fledged laughter and walk to the food court together, making fart noises with our hands.

Unfortunately for her, I am not a male, nor have I had any beer recently, so I can't fart on demand. I contemplate faking one, but I think with the music her flatulence makes, she would recognize a fake one right away. Then she would think I was making fun of her.

She lets out another, a long, windy fart that is probably vibrating the toilet seat. She moans and gasps with what I assume is relief. And I do the only thing I can. I laugh. I can't help it. I am suddenly overcome with the sense of humor of a 9 year old boy and I giggle and practically snort. I know she hears me because she responds by letting out another one, with gusto. I opt for the quick getaway at that point because it is really starting to reek in there.

I meet my sister in the food court, watching the feet of all the expensive looking women that stroll in, keeping an eye out for those Italian shoes. She never materializes, but if she did, I just wanted to tell her that she might want to skip the bean soup.

March 13, 2002 06:36 PM

Admit it, you laughed.


Now, that's the difference between women and men. If a guy farted in the stall next to me, he would say something like, "Shouldn't have had those hot dogs for dinner," or just repeat Dangerfieldism, "Who Stepped on a Duck?" and I'd reply, "Damn, that must have lifted you off the seat. Don't light a match!" The whole idea of debating the ethics of fart discussion isn't really contemplated.

Well, it was in a bathroom, right? If you can't fart with impunity in a bathroom, where can you? And if you can't giggle at a, ah, particularly melodious fart with impunity, no matter where it plays its tune, what can you giggle at?

Places not to fart if you can possibly help it:
-- Weddings (especially if you're one of the principals)
-- Baptisms (especially if you're one of the principals)
-- Executions (I suppose it's okay if you're the guest of honor; after all, what more can they do to you?)
-- Meetings with your company's high-level executives (unless you're an even higher-level executive)
-- Formal dinners whose guests include your major creditors, society gossip columnists or attractive unmated members of the opposite sex.

Places where farting is considered more-or-less acceptable:
-- Outdoor sporting events (unless televised, and you're playing in it, and they've lassoed you into wearing one of those wireless mikes)
-- Bars (with all the swearing and grunting going on, they usually pass unnoticed)
-- Open boats (what are you supposed to do, hold it until you can make landfall?)
-- Strip clubs (trust me on this one)
-- In line at the DMV (some forms of suffering cannot be made any worse)

Places where farting is considered de rigueur:
-- Rodeos, farm-country fairs, and other livestock-related events,
-- Demolition derbies and Figure-Eight races,
-- France.

These lists are all subject to alteration and amplification over time.

Sighs...michele, you have just let the entire xx gender down.

Bigwig's genuinely funny post that day was alerting us to the "Gay Bar" kittens video.

I didn't think the Vogue parody was funny. It sucked ass.

Men are supposed to be able to fart on demand??? Why did nobody tell me about this? I can't fart on demand!

checks for testicles

Francis you left out "elevators" in the places not to fart list. There's always a limited number of candidates and you're amongst them. You either suffer the embarasement or the smell.

Best time to fart in an elevator is just about the time you're ready to get off. You leave with the people just coming on that somebody already there did the deed.

I did that to my wife when we were dating.

That should be:

"You leave with the people just coming on thinking that somebody already there did the deed."

My preacher brother-in-law says that the reason women don't fart as much as men is that their mouth isn't closed long enough to build up the required back pressure.

Not that I agree, I'm just trying to provide on-topic commentary.

As for "women love peace and bunnies and think wars are icky": there's always Anna's site, Belligerent Bunny Blog "Come for the bunny photographs, Stay for the Warmongery"

Now how do I make a link that opens in a new window?...

I loves me some Anna.

It was a Monday morning, and I was tired after a long weekend skydiving. The thing about skydiving -- aside from the fact that skydivers are animals and have more fun than real people -- is that you have to go two and a half miles up in the airplane, and the air gets thinner and all that gas in your intestines expands... even the women fart, instead of just "fluffing" they way they usually do. Big nasty ones...

So this Monday morning I'm sleepily standing at the urinal, and someone else comes in and stands next to me; I don't look closely, that being one of the rules for pissing-while-standing-up. This guy lets go with a decent fart, and I -- not yet fully awake and still in my skydiver frame of mind -- respond with "say again?"

I can feel this guys eyes turn to focus on me, so I glance over to see... the corporate Vice President. He smiles, lifts a leg, and emits a long bass braaaapppppppp with a couple of pops on the end.

I could think of nothing to say but "Roger, I read you five by five!"

At least he laughed too.

In the midst of serious commentary, cat craziness, and history unwound, our most popular essay is essentially an 800-word fart joke:

Break Like the Wind

I still think there is a gender-gap here. My five year old boy can be instantly sent into gigles just by asking "did you just fart?" He thinks it's the funniest topic on earth. So do most of his friends. I've never met a female (child or adult) who gets that much enjoyment out of it.

But then, it could just be me. I don't understand football either.

Susan if it makes you feel any better, I've never been able to understand sports either. And fanness scares me... we WANT to play at being obsesessed waring tribes. Really?

Of course with paranoid attitudes like mine you'd expect me to be running around with a tee shirt that says "The difference between Saddam and Bush is that Saddam was elected" Heh :)

But then you have to realize that the Arabs are the world's scariest fans. More than just wearing cheese on their heads, the Palestinians go so far that their cute little children lisp that they want to die blowing up as many Jewish children as possible - and their parents beam with pride.

Go team!

As a person who can sometimes be seen wearing cheese on her head during football season, I resent that analogy.

If you make blog entries about what kind of cheese it is and how good it is then you're a shoe-in for an anti-bloggie.