Fartin' Up a Storm

I am in the midst of reading Stephen King's Dreamcatcher. In an early part of the novel, a couple of the main characters were having to deal with smelling and hearing some very obnoxious farts coming from a man they were trying to help. One of those guys figured their experience would make a great story, because "people always laughed at stories about farts and burps." All I can say is for the sake of this article, I hope he is right.

Now I'll confess that I am a farter. Actually my earth-shattering farts usually do the confessing for me. The comments in Mr. King's novel couldn't help but crack me up (and made me want to fart). I easily get chuckled at funny things, and in my laughter, I usually succeed at holding my farts in, but sometimes I don't. I was once hanging out with some buddies in high school and they got me on a roll of laughter over something, and needless to say, I failed at keeping the gas from erupting rather loudly. That of course got them going, and one of them replied, "Man, you're fartin' up a storm!" That explains the title.

Probably the most potent fart I ever released was one I actually intended to let go, thinking no harm would be done. It happened one Friday night during halftime in a football locker room. As a faculty member, I was a volunteer on the school's football staff. Anyways, we went in at half, and my gut was pounding and bloated, and I knew that passing some wind would help. Afterall, at the moment it was a noisy room and of course the aroma was far from a bed of roses. What would it hurt? So I just let it go. Just moments later, a horrendous stink began clouding around the corner we were standing in. An assistant coach who was apparently standing downwind from us closer to the players, walked over to us with his eyes watering and could only mutter out, "Boy, someone cut one over there." Needless to say, I kept mum and only agreed. Now this coach was actually my gym teacher in high school, and he is a big guy who could bring the fear out of his students. And this article is the first time I am openly confessing that fart. So Coach, I'm sorry I made you cry.

I've had some dandy farts in my life, and I'll have plenty more I'm sure. The majority were accidental, yet during the times when I went camping with the guys, most were on purpose. I really wonder what is more funny, the fart or the fact the fellows laugh each time it happens. It is like a joke that never gets old. Now my burping has a lot to be desired, but a couple of my camping buddies are outstanding at that end. They have even done the entire alphabet in one belch on more than one occasion. Another friend in our camping crew awhile back tried bragging about how thankful he was not to have any problems with body excretions. I did have to remind him that his talking was equivalent. That produced a response.

Now the final fart tale that I will share in this hopefully highly successful article of meaningless drivel comes from the most recent camping excursion I had with the fellows discussed in the prior paragraph. That evening during our poker game, we invented a new variant called "Fart in the Bathtub," in which deuces, eights, the one-eyed jack, and the suicide king were wild cards. The deuces represent the poor souls who accidently follow thru with a number two. The eights are the bubbles of course. As for the final two wilds, I'll just let the reader try to figure them out.

Well, again, I sure hope Stephen King is right, and this article is a hoot for people to read. If it turns out to be, I may have to write a book on my additional experiences. Laughter is the goal of it all. Experts say that laughing is truly good for our health, so if anything, I hope this piece contributes to that. And as for me, more laughter will equal more farting tales.