Look, farts are hilarious. You know it, and I know it. They can be memorable, exciting even, and I have in my brain a list of the most hilarious farts at which I have had the honor to be present. There was that one girl on the Metro that caused the whole car to snap to attention and then awkwardly pretend like nothing had happened. There was the epic fart of 2002. Just last night we were all seated at the dining room table having a birthday dinner for my mother-in-law, when my son decided to take action. We were discussing my post from yesterday, and everyone was trying to get him to correctly state our names. Instead he called his sister “Ruby Farty,” which I grant you was not nice. But then, giggling away somewhat maniacally, he launched into a name for her that was well over 40 syllables long, and went something like “Your name is Rubyoobyfweefwahhangybangyoopydoopydingydangywiggybiggylalalalalalalalatwangybanger…” And then, with perfect comic timing, he punctuated this name with a joyous fart that sounded just like a final syllable. My wife and I were laughing way too hard to chastise him. My mother-in-law was somewhat more composed.
The point is, farts are funny. BUT! (butt?) My wife has informed me of the Rule of Farts, which must be strictly observed. The Rule of Farts is as follows:
Only the loud ones are funny, not the smelly ones.
This is a very important distinction. Nobody wants their jovial hilarity befouled by a vile odor. Is there anything worse then drawing in breath to laugh, only to choke on the very air you were planning to use for mirth? No, once that stench gets around it is no longer funny. Especially in an elevator or small car or blanket fort. If you are planning on making an amusing fart to please your friends, please ensure that it contains only the audio.
A long and loud trumpet blast, a sneaky squeaker, or a startling explosion, comic flatulence comes in many varieties. Just please follow the Rule of Farts to ensure everyone’s safety and comfort. Thank you, and happy tooting!