64 lines
3.5 KiB
Plaintext
64 lines
3.5 KiB
Plaintext
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..on Farting
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By Someone who might be embarassed if the world found out who wrote it.
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(yeah, yeah, it's Bosk and you know it)
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There's nothing like an irrepressible case of the Farts. I mean, the
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ones that attack you for an hour straight, leaving you limp and deflated.
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Everybody's used to a little social discomfort here and there, though.
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Some people have fart repression mastered. Especially women. Their muscle
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control withstands the siege of oncoming gas, and no one can tell. They may
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wait minutes, no, hours before they relax and let it out. This is the primary
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cause of paint blistering and peeling.
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But today is yet another exercise of a masochistic ritual: of drinking
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milk along with some technologically developed protein weight-gain powder. Milk
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on its own would make a norman man squirm in his seat after an hour or so. When
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taken with this techno-powder, however, it tests the very core of his being.
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Today I drank one of these concoctions before coming to school. My first
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class had an exam, another gas factor. Upon leaving the classroom I emitted
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much more than a sigh of relief. As I walked across campus, scores of farts
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hissed out. Oh, that I had eyes on the back of my head to view the expressions
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of those behind me! The whole trick was to do it in such a manner as to disap-
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pear after it happened.
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Quite a few rules must be observed here, and I will go into greater detail
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in my next article. Here are a few. For example, if you are walking ahead of
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a group, and no one else is near, don't fart (unless they are a school of soro-
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rity land sharks, in which case it's ok). It will be obvious who did it. But
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if you are in the same situation and a cross-wind comes, let loose. Don't fart
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in an elevator unless you plan to get off on the next floor. Or, fart in the
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elevator and look at the person next to you the second you hear it. They'll
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think she did it.
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After walking around for a while, I decided to plop down on the grass.
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Since it was still damp, I had to sit on my folder. This makes it a little
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harder to muffle a poot. I was on top of a small hill, virtually alone. Every-
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one else (in this case two people) was either asleep or lost in study. From
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time to time I would lean over imperceptibly and phhht! The breeze swooped it
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away like a knight on a white horse. This happened a few more times. A certain
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special touch had to be developed so that it wouldn't awaken anybody.
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Another side-effect of this protein powder was that it made my bowels
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soften almost to the point of liquidity. To the inexperienced practitioner, a
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watery bowel movement could escape under the guise of a hisser, and by the time
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he found out it would be too late.
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Luckily, I am an experienced practitioner. I leaned over once again to
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release my aroma. I clenched my sphincter the second it came out. It was a
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half-and-half fart: part air, part liquid. A prelude to a real gurgly shit.
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Very slowly and calmly I packed up and headed for the john. Cheeks were at
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full clench to provide maximum seepage protection. I had to work later, and
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could not afford any stinky splotch-marks on my draws!
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To my relief there was an open stall. I undid the buttons on my jeans and
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pulled down pants and underwear in one motion. Not a single mark. I was safe.
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A few wipes revealed that only a tiny amount made it out. I didn't feel like
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taking a shit, so I buttoned up and left the men's to walk around campus some
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more.
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