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Happy TMI Thursday, toots and tootettes!
OBLIGATORY ASIDE ABOUT “TOOT”: Next time a conversation gets too serious, clasp your hands together, furrow your brow slightly, and without blinking say the word “toot” with a straight face. That’s a little bonus LRC-adventure for ya. You’re welcome.
For today’s TMI Thursday I will share some Things About Flatulence with you, in bullet form.
- Now that I have an intern in my office (literally, she’s in my office. Like, sits-across-from-me-at-my-desk-and-I-can’t-read-tumblr-when-she’s-here-because-there-are-too-many-nipples-oh-and-by-the-way-have-you-been-reading-my-tumblr?), I, uh… can’t fart like I want to. I was so ready to just let one rip earlier today until I realized, yeah hi, there’s another person—a person I’m supposed to be setting a positive example for—in my office. Oh, but when she leaves? It’s a regular C&C Fart Factory in here.
- This morning, I was lying in bed with my Lawyerman. I was telling him how crappy I felt and that I just wanted to lie in bed with him all day. “You know what always makes me feel better?” he said. “What, baby?” I asked. “BRRRRONK!!!!!!!!!” Yep, he farted. Of course. I forgot about it for a minute because I didn’t smell anything (also, he farts about every thirteen seconds so it’s not like this was a rare occurrence) and we went back to chatting. I reached down and playfully snapped the elastic on his boxers. Guess what happened? Yep. Residual fart went directly in my face. Awesome.
- I was already aware of the fact that asparagus is supposed to make your pee smell funny, but until recently I had no idea it would give you pungent, unceasing gas as well. The other night, Lawyerman and I had dinner at my house, and it was quite a lovely meal indeed. Within the half hour, however, I was producing Old-Man-Post-Baked-Bean-Dinner-quality farts with alarming frequency. I was even able to fart on command, punctuating my sentences with the beautiful music of my anus (Gloria Estefan was right—the rhythm is, indeed, going to get you. Gloria Estefan joke courtesy Chandler Bing). After one particularly fragrant bunghole emission, Lawyerman even had to leave the room. Yep. Lawyerman, a 6′1″, 240-lb. grown-ass man was outdone by a 5′3″ (nice try, I’m not telling you my weight) leetle woman. I’ve never been more proud of my digestive tract.
