The Price Of Gas

Okay:

So my daughter asked me, "Daddy, what's a fart?"

And I responded, "You know how in science class they tell you about the three different kinds of matter?"

"Solid, liquid and gas."

"Exactly. All day long, your body is taking in matter. But some of that matter doesn't belong in your body, so your body gets rid of it."

"Like trash?"

"Exactly like trash. Solid."

"Doo-doo."

"Liquid."

"Pee-pee."

"And gas."

"Fart."

"Exactly, honey. You got it." My stepfather looked over at me and nodded his head approvingly. I had successfully explained the fart.

However, I'm not sure if anyone ever explained it to me so clearly. In fact, my cousins and I had a running bet when we were kids, that if you turned around quickly enough, you could see your fart. Of course, I was the one who came up with such a fantastic tale. I told them it looked like a small yin yang.

I'm a fairly flatulent guy myself. As is my father. I typically will crank out a half-dozen an hour. I read somewhere that the human body is expelling unwanted gas all the time, but most of the time you won't notice.

Part of it is mental, I'm sure. For example, every time I have a young lady come to visit me, one gauge for judging how much I like her is how much gas I get. If I have to leave the room every twenty minutes or so to let 'em rip, I know I've got me someone special.

I once farted while getting orally pleasured by a girlfriend of mine. She had enough class to not say anything and continue doing her job, but when the session was over she barked, "Don't be passing gas while I'm giving you head. That's gross."

I usually fart at least once while having intercourse. But I've never been called on it.

Sometimes Gill may come into my office at work, crank out one or two and then leave. Sometimes he lifts his leg. Sometimes on his way out the door he says, "Your welcome."

Sometimes, my farts follow me. I once farted in my office, and it stank so bad I had to leave and go to someone else's room. A student looked up at me and shouted, "Damn, did you just bust your ass or something?"

"In my office a few minutes ago."

"Well, that shit is on you."

The other day I went to Gill's classroom, with the intention of shooting the shit, but I ended up cranking out a pretty big one.

Gill said, "That was Mr. Nadir, boys and girls. You see how his fart got all that treble. Mr. Gill's farts got that bass."

Cerebral motherfucker gets me every time.

Then there's the infamous shart to consider. And a shart is exactly what you think it is.

Yes, it has happened to me before, but because I live a charmed life, it has never happened to me outside of the home.

A buddy of mine sharted on the way to school once and had to go back home to change. His grandmother wrote him a note, and sent him back to school. Once he got to class, he handed the teacher the note, which she read out loud for some reason.

"Please excuse my grandson for being tardy. He had loose stools."


Thanks for reading.

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Factoid: Did you know that farts contain butane and are highly flammable?