Because sometimes a status update just isn't enough.

Because sometimes a status update just isn't enough.

23 August 2012

The more you toot, the better you feel...

I don't know how to say this delicately, but for the past three weeks I've been passing gas with the regularity of an old, farting Rottweiler. 

(I use "Rottweiler" because years ago, I had one.  Her name was Coco and she farted like no man's business, but she wouldn't own it.  She'd blast a shot from her back door, looked startled, whip her head around, stare at her ass, then growl at it.  Then she'd look at us, like, "WTF?  Who fired that shot?  Was it... you?" and then repeat the performance 5 minutes later.  I'm using her as a role model these days for "How To Respond When You Can't Hold In A Fart."  I've been practicing the startled look of confusion followed by the accusatory glance at someone else in front of the mirror.)

"What do you mean, 'The dog did it.'  Whatchoo talkin' bout, Willis?"

The problem, of course, is the High Octane diet I've inadvertantly put myself on.  Do you ever go through phases where you're like, "You know what sounds good?  Bean burritos..." and then you eat them every day for like three weeks?

*long pause*

Okay, so just me, then?

Anyway, while we were in the process of packing and moving, the quickest and easiest thing I could think of to make myself were bean burritos.  I went all healthy and bought fat free refried beans, natural salsa, whole wheat tortillas, yada yada yada, and would scarf down one or two while I was packing and sorting and cleaning.

Mmmmm, bean burritos....

When we were done moving, I still had 564856 cans of fat free refried beans and a boatload of whole wheat tortillas.  And lotsa salsa.  And they sounded good.

So I'd spruce 'em up with tomatoes, lettuce, brown rice, whatever, and lunch it up California style, completely ignoring the part where everyone around me would potentially end up paying for my All Beans, All The Time Burrito Extravaganza.

However, recently it's become such an issue that I can't ignore it anymore.

I don't like farting in front of people, including my husband. 

Confession:  I'm a fart stifler.

No really, I am.

I will sit there, hunched over in pain, and mentally try to re-absorb the fart.

Dan is convinced this will kill me one day.  (He never holds in a fart.  Ever.)  He says things like, "It's bad to hold in a fart!  It can kill you!"

I asked him to show me one example of a person who suffered Death By Fart Stifling but he can't seem to come up with anyone.

(With my luck, I'll be the first.)

Loud explosions will turn my intestines into a war zone, but I will sit there and try to talk a little louder, just to camoflage the racket coming from my general direction while looking questionably at any other person in the room, as if to say, "Is that YOU?  How embarrassing... I'll talk louder so that no one will notice.  Because I'm a giver."

When I'm by myself, all bets are off:  all the held-in farts will be released into the wild, while I pray that no one comes back into the room for at least 10 minutes.  (You know how it is when you sneak out a fart when you're by yourself, like when you're waiting for a pelvic exam and your feet are in the stirrups and you know that when the doctor comes in and pushes on your belly, all hell will break loose in her face so you fart while you're waiting by yourself, alone and vulnerable in a badly fitting paper gown, and for some reason, it smells like yesterday's road kill and literally 2 seconds later the doctor comes in and even though no one says anything you both know you just farted.)

(Word:  You ALWAYS have to fart at the gyno.  Always.  It is written.)

Meanwhile, my ability to stifle is fading, probably because of the amount of gas that has built up in my colon (or wherever gas comes from) because of my unfortunate legume habit.  Add the high fiber whole wheat tortilla, the vegetables that I'm dumping into the mix, the fact that I may or may not have eaten an entire half a pound of homegrown grape tomatoes by myself yesterday, and a genetic tendency towards gassiness (thanks, MOTHER), things have come to a head.

When I stand up and walk, silent but deadly farts propel me forward.  More and more often Dan will ask, "WHAT is that smell?" and I will respond, "I don't smell anything... maybe one of the dogs farted" and he's becoming suspicious.

Yesterday, I accompanied Dan to his doctor's appointment and while he was waiting I (naturally) needed to pee.  (I'm a Fart Stifler and a Pee-er.  Winning Combination, yo.)  The second my butt hit the porcelaine, my ass produced a symphony of such volume and clarity that there is no way the lab techs waiting behind the stupid little latched cubby in the wall where you put your pee samples could not have been impressed.

My anononymity was shattered when I emerged from the john, only to be confronted by the curious and amused faces of the lab techs who'd just been treated to my impromptu (and free) performance.

I hate you, nosy lab techs.

The last straw came this morning.  I am babysitting my nieces, both of whom are deaf and can hear very little without the benefit of hearing aids (and even with them, most of their conversations go like this:  Me:  "Girls, could you come here?"  *dead silence*  Me:  *louder*  "GIRLS, CAN YOU COME HERE?"  *dead silence*  Me:  *standing right in front of them and shouting*  "GIRLS!!!  COME HERE!"  Them:  *looking at me as if they've never seen me before*  "Huh?")

Anyway.  They were sitting, sans hearing aids, in the livingroom watching (of all things) The Dick Van Dyke Show.  (Don't get me wrong... I love Dick.  I was just surprised that THEY like it.)  They were totally engrossed in the antics of Rob and Sally and Buddy and Laura as I toodled around them, picking up the cups and napkins from their breakfast.  Not so silently, a little teensy tiny fart bubble eked it's way out and made a slight "POP!"  They both whipped their heads towards me and in unison said, "WHAT was THAT?"

Me:  *nonchalantly*  "What was what?"

Jessie, the 9 year old, who can never tell a lie:  "That fart!"

Me:  *because I'm determined to maintain my dignity*  "I didn't fart."

Tori, the 14 year old, who shall be renamed Captain Obvious:  "Yes you did!  You did too fart!  I heard you!  Jessie and me heard you!  You farted!"


Who would like to take bets on what the conversational topic will be when Gramma gets home?

Who would like to take bets on the odds that Aunt Dani will lie her ass off?



  1. I have always been gassy. I don't like to fart in front of people either. It's not because I'm feminine, it's just because I think it's rude. So at work I'll run to the bathroom, but sometimes I only make it to the hall. One time I did it in the elevator and when the doors opened some poor lady stepped in. What are you gonna do?

    The worst are the night ones that I get from dinner. I was really happy when I was dating the loud snorer so he didn't hear them. *shaking head* I really think I shouldn't have the chili dog for dinner I was going to before my date tonight. Damn you delicious beans!

    1. My mother is the worse farter in the world, seriously. Which is funny because she's also incredibly prim and proper. So we heard her fart alllll the time. On the other hand, I honestly don't think I EVER heard my dad fart. Ever.

      I get my stifling from him.


  2. HAHAHAHAHA! I always seem to get gassy at work. Thank god I work for a company that has lots of noisy diesel trucks and other equipment. I can sneak outside and wait for a truck or pump or something to fire up so I can let one rip and mask it with the sound of heavy machinery.

    1. Working with kids with severe autism was also a good cover. Not that I'd EVER blame a hideous fart on an innocent child...


  3. I am attributing the gas pains from two days ago to drinking with a straw all day! Not sure what I will blame the next round on, but I am in decent company in this far from modest house...just once in awhile it would be nice to eat dinner with some level of civility though! Try aunt puts it in her baked beans!

    1. Oh Lord... my sons and husband are forbidden from farting at the table. For. Bid. Den.

      Not that they care, of course. I've tried beano and it actually doesn't seem to make a difference for me. Beans don't usually give me gas, if I eat them within reason. It's when I eat them every day for three weeks that it becomes a problem. Last night I had such bad gas cramps I decided I was probably going to fulfill Dan's prophecy and die from fart stifling.

      I'm not eating beans today. I swear.

  4. Lurv you. Just Lurv you. Have you ever done the pull one ass cheek up hoping to help produce a nice silent vapor, which admittedly works...99% of the time.. It's that 1% that will get you into trouble, and helps cause a near sonic explosion that rips off wallpaper and the ears off of the neighbors' dog. Having to go gluten free due to the Celiac helped immensely with the gas, once I finally got better. It didn't eliminate it, but it helped. ALOT. I was a gassy girl there for awhile, and I'm a closet farter too. I can't fart in front of anyone, except the closest of the close to me.

    1. Yesss!! And also the "laugh super hard and fart" routine. I hate that. HATE. I'll burst out laughing and the little fart I've been barely holding in all night will burst from my nether regions with a loud POP!! And so I cough and try to camoflage it...

  5. When I was dating my hubs, way back in the stone age, we were in a room, completely alone, completely silent, and sitting on the floor. We had just had lunch and the gasses were churning. Before I could do ANYTHING, one just snuck right out and made a nice PFFFFFFFTTTTTT sound. There was nobody to blame it on. My then-bf/now hubs just laughed, but I was mortified. I guess I realized then that it was true love. If you can let one rip and your lover thinks it's adorable? Total keeper.


      Worse dating story ever: I was on a first date with a super cute guy and we went out for pizza and beer. One of my friends showed up and we were sitting around talking and laughing and I had one of those inadvertant "laugh/fart" moments. I thought I'd covered it up real well, because my friend claimed afterword that she didn't hear it (because she's a LYING ASS) but when I talked to the Cute Boy the next day he said, AND I QUOTE, "For such a little girl, you can sure let 'em rip."

      I didn't date him again.

  6. Once I farted in my bedroom and my husband walked in (like 5 mins later). He proceeded to yell at me for stinking up the room and told me to "take it to the bathroom and shit already." Then he told me to call him when "it stopped smelling like the asshole of a dead skunk."

    Needless to say, he slept on the couch that night.



    1. "The asshole of a dead skunk." I'm going to cross stitch that on a sampler and give it to my husband for Christmas.

      Beautiful... your husband is a poet!!

    2. Bwahahahaha. This sounds like me and my husband except he's the one who farts in the bedroom just before I come to bed. I totally need to steal that "asshole of a dead skunk" line.

  7. I have nothing clever to add here today. I just wanted to thank you for the laugh that I so desperately needed today.

    1. Oh, Mandi... well you came and you gave without takingggg...


  8. I nearly died reading this because I began to laugh so hard at the whole story about the doctors office and I choked on my cheeto lol!

  9. I can so totally relate to this... The bad part is that I work in a cubicle. People all around. So if it's too soon after I... ah... you know, let one out, and someone walks by, they kid of do this little stumble, like they almost fainted, and pointedly do not look at me as they speed away.

    Luckily I work right underneath one of the intake vents, so the smell is pulled away almost immediately. I like to imagine there is some guy stuck in an office on the second floor that gets the brunt of this. I am jealous of private offices.

  10. I'm usually pretty good about getting to the bathroom when I have terrible gas.

    But then there's yoga . . . I am just POSITIVE that one day I'm going to let one rip during yoga class.

  11. Okay, first time visitor (found you on Oh, Noa since I click on every link because I am guaranteed funny) and just laughed really hard through that entire story. Seriously funny stuff, only the more so because I feel like I could've written it from exactly the same perspective, although hard pressed to be as funny. Thank you so much for the early morning guffaws...

  12. Oh Dani, your nieces are totally going to out you.

  13. I cried and almost wet my pants - Thanks Dani!!

  14. Sometimes I am suddenly paralyzed with fear in the morning, after a moment of indiscretion, and then I remember that my boyfriend didn't sleep-over last night and I relish in the confidence that I can continue to lord my perfection over him just a little longer...


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