Friday, November 11, 2011

The Anatomy of Farts


Alright, so I have a job at the Federal Reserve Building in Boston. It’s veteran’s day and there are hardly any people in the building. I was even one of the last to leave the office. Anyway, let me get to the point. So, I’m leaving the office when I have the sudden urge to fart. I don’t like holding in my farts because they give me a tummy ache. It’s probably vital to tell you at this point that I do not know how to burp; therefore, the only way for me to expel gas is out my butthole. Nevertheless, I reach the elevators at 4:45pm. Usually on Fridays the elevator makes a straight B line to the bottom floor as everyone has usually left by now. I enter the elevator and the vent is blaring… perfect condition to release. As soon as the doors close I shoot the fahts out my ass. The elevator stops moving… but at a snail’s pace. Why you ask? Because of fuckin’ course it stops at the next floor. An old woman steps on the elevator. It’s starts to move again, and meanwhile, the woman is violently sniffing the air to let me know she smells my fumes. Whatever, what’s one person to think I’m inhumane. But then, the elevator stops at another floor… and then another floor. Pretty soon the elevator is full of snobby business men loudly sniffing my fahts. “What’s that smell?” each of the business people utter as they continue to pile on the elevator. I lied in agreement “Yeah, it smells like fahts doesn’t it?” They could all see through my lies; I was sure of it. Finally, after what appeared to be an elongated process of marinating in my own poop soup, the elevator reached the ground floor. The doors opened, and the people fled as heat from my fahts hit the cold air of the lobby and created a violent front.

I mean, that’s basically my story. However, the reason I relayed you that wonderful and magical story is to ask you this question: Why is it that every time you fart, there is always someone close by to come barging in to witness it?

It always happens to me. I’m at work, in the break room; no one has shown for several minutes. I take it as my chance to let loose. The sick heat seeps out my butthole, and as soon as the smell fills the air, some creeping person opens the door.

I feel like there is some sort of scientific explanation for this. There has got to be. I feel like human farts contain a hormone that attracts other surrounding people. If anyone knows anything about this, please clear the air (pun completely intented).

P.S. If you’re wondering why I switch from ‘fart’ to ‘faht’ at points well… it’s essentially for my own amusement. I feel like the different dialects act in various ways. Put simply, I’m a fucking lunatic who laughs to himself in public.

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