Have you ever heard your woman pass gas? To the women: Why hide it?

No, this guy did it himself. On purpose

 

Heard? No.

Unknowingly walk through a toxic cloud a few moments later? Yes.

 

AMEN!

 

I fart in your general direction.

 

Some of y'all's wives must be wearing ass-silencers.

I mean, you sleep in the same bed, right?

 

That's what I'm sayin', man ... it's weird.

 

Farts happen. Especially in the privacy of my own home.


That said. I did not once fart in front of the last guy I dated. He must have been special.

 

so you were behind him all the way? Good for you!

 

If we must talk about farting, I guess I can tell my best story.

Thursday night in college. Put the paper to bed and head to the local Irish tavern. Eleventy billion pitchers of Bass later, catch a cab home with my buddy. We get the brilliant idea to walk to White Castle.

We get a 30 pack of jalapeno cheese sliders and head back to my place, then polish them off with whatever off-brand ass beer I had in my fridge. No, I'm not exaggerating. He had 17, I ate 13.

Wake up in my recliner the next am with my girlfriend screaming at me that we had to go to class. We have lab that I fully intended to skip, but apparently we had something due. This part is, admittedly, hazy.

What isn't hazy is a half hour later when I'm sitting in the computer lab and have to rip ass. I'm still piss drunk, mind you, but I manage to slide into a corner and let one go without much audio. It did, however, smell something like a diseased, rotting yak carcass being aerosolized. I caught a whiff, felt a rumble in my stomach and bolted for the door.

That's right, ladies and gentlemen, I once farted so terribly, I made myself vomit.

 

Just one?

 

I like how Zeke looks down his nose at the topic just before he sinks it to even deeper depths ...

 

Oh. My. God. That's funny.