Thursday, November 26, 2009

Kate Said Jokingly, "Why Don't You Write About Farts?"

Okay, I will. After all, there is nothing funnier than ripping off a loud one, the smellier the better. It's the highest form of comedy. It's the only act that's funny whether you're actively doing it, talking about it later, thinking about potentially doing it at some point in the future, or enjoying the ripple effect an especially potent explosion can have on your environment.

The fart is humanity's built in practical joke, and picking the perfect time to roll one out is an art form. There's the dutch oven, the SBD surprise, the aerial assault, the sonic boom, the twenty one gun salute, the fart finger and the back pocket rocket just to name a few. Even the technical terms are funny. Flatulence. Hilarious. Flatus. Side splitting.

And how often does something which is so inherently funny also have to potential to make you feel so good? You know the drill. You've been sitting in your office all day, afraid or unwilling to chance a rogue wave, so you clench. And the pressure builds. Sometimes you're not even aware of the air pockets steadily building in your guts. But they're there, and they're angry at being caged up.

So you get in the car at the end of the day and destroy your automotive ecosystem. And you feel so much better. And your car is stinky now, which is funny, so you snicker to yourself. And you wish you could call someone over to your car window and surprise them with your creation, because that would be even funnier.

So yes, I know why the caged fart sings.

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