Sunday, April 30, 2006

A concierto of explosives in the office space

As previously promised, here are some delightful flatulence stories to entertain you. G*d, I sure love a good fart story...

One time in high school, I was practicing my shot put throw. A cute guy was also practicing with me. My stomach had not been feeling well that day as is usually the case with fart stories. For those of you not familiar with the shot put. It is an event in track and field where you throw this 8lb ball as far as you can. In order to do that, you need to put all your energy into your body as you turn yourself and throw the stupid thing in one explosive motion while making sure that you don't drop it on your foot. Anyway, I was getting ready to throw the ball. I hunched over and reached into the deepest recess of my being to muster all the strength that I could find in order to launch that thing. As I exploded out to throw the ball, there was another explosion that took place instead. The sound freaked me out and caught me so off guard that I dropped the ball and tripped over the metal ring on the floor (designed to keep you in bounds etc). As embarrassed as I was, I was hoping that the guy would just ignore what had happened and just move on, but nooooooo, that was not the case. After I picked myself up off the floor, the following exchange ensued:

Guy: What was that noise?
Me: I don't know, I didn't hear anything.
Guy: No, I heard something when you were throwing the shot put.
Me: Really? I guess I must have ripped my pants or something.
Guy: No your pants are fine.
Me: Maybe I hit the metal ring before I fell down.
Guy (starts hitting metal ring with his shoe): Nope, that wasn't the noise I heard.
Me: Maybe I just stepped on a ROCK THEN!
Guy: Yeah, I guess.

I should've just said: "Dude let it go! I farted ok? Is that what you want to hear?"

One time I was at the movies with a couple of friends. We had gone to watch the Pirates of the Carribean. We were about to go to the theatre when my friend, let's call her "A", decided that she needed to go to the bathroom first. We all waited outside. A couple of seconds later, I too decided to go to the bathroom so that I wouldn't have to go during the movie. I walked into the bathroom, and wondered where my friend was. I didn't want to shout out her name in the crowded bathroom, so I just picked any stall and got down to business. I had been feeling especially gassy that day so I went to town in there. I mean, if not in the bathroom then where else can you really let it all out? Anyway, I finished my concierto and proceeded to wash my hands and leave the bathroom. I hadn't seen my friend while I was in there, so I wondered what had happened to her when I walked back outside and saw that she wasn't with our friends yet. They asked me if I had seen her and I said, no, I didn't see her in there. We were just about to go back in and look for her when she suddenly appeared from the bathroom. Her face was rumpled and she seemed very upset.

Us: Hey, what happened to you? We thought you fell in the toilet, we were about to go rescue you.
A: Ugh! I was trying to go #2, but I can't go when I have distractions and loud people.
Us: Why? What happened?
A: This loud woman came into the stall next to mine and started farting up a storm!
I thought she was dying in there with all the ruckus she had going on! It totally broke my concentration! She was farting so loudly!

At this point you can imagine that I am doubled over with laughter. I was cracking up so hard that immediately my friend realized that I was the concierto culprit. To this day, I still crack up when I think of that.

One time I was in my small, closed and confined office and I let an especially stinky one out (you know, silent but deadly). Since I was the only one there, I figured that it was ok. As soon as I caught a whiff of the offensive odor, I decided that I needed to take more decisive action and head to the bathroom. Besides, I didn't want to be anywhere near the premises in case the smell should spread to the rest of the office. Just as I got up to leave, someone came right into my office to discuss something. I wanted to die. I tried to keep on walking so that she would follow me out of the office, but alas, it was no use. There we both stood in my office enjoying the fresh scent that I had just delivered. We both knew what had happened, but no one said anything. At least she didn't do what the shotput guy did: "What's that smell?".

Do you have any funny flatulence tales to tell? Come on...don't be shy.


Blogger Adeleida said...

Oh, this is soooo funny - I'm cracking up! Followed your comment from Tertia's blog, by the way (the link is broken, but I found it anyway). All I'm saying is: get a dog. You can blame anything on the dog, especially the silent/deadly

4:42 AM  

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