So, women here in the states have tried to outlaw farting in their presence. It's true. Not through the legislature or court system, but by bitching, moaning, hitting, cursing, and just outright, plain, pure ass mean-ness directed towards the poor "fart-ee", or is that "fart-er"? Ostracization also can be brought into the mixture of punishments meted out for your sweet-smelling transgressions. "Go sleep with the goddamned dog if you're going to do that you jerk!" being an oft heard, late night, bitch from an American lass.
You do know of course that American women DON'T FART. American women really aren't big fatsos, they're just all puffed up like zeppelins from the accumulated natural gas deposits they've been holding in all their lives. And now they're turning the U.S. male into a bunch of lying chickenshit farters, blaming all and sundry, instead of proudly proclaiming their wonderful earth-shaking explosions of flatulence. Shame, oh the shame of it. We've lost our balls, and the right and pride to claim what is rightfully ours.
I remember back in the 1950's when a guy (not just kids either) was proud of his farts. Alas, this is no more. The past few decades have seen a sad decline in the stature of the U.S. male, and the U.S. has become a rather fartless society. Sad indeed, I know.
"What's this have to do with anything, Cent?" you say. "What the hell are you going on about?"
Well, this is the reason I asked my Thai lass to marry me. (Just joking darling. Pssssst, hey dear reader, don't ever tell the wife I told you this if we ever meet, please. Okay?)
Let me explain. You know how, the first few months or year that you are seeing a lady, how you try not to fart in her presence, right? It just isn't done during the first trimester of courting if it can be helped at all. It can, at times, put a serious damper on an intimate moment, and even cause a lady to reconsider what the heck she is doing with a slob such as yourself. Well, in the states I mean anyway, and, being a brain-washed American male I've always tried to follow this un-written Yank law while in other countries, including Thailand.
"Yummy!" I say.
"Let's get a couple of ducks and bring them back to the condo to eat later on, darling." I suggest to my lass.
Well, she just wrinkles up what little nose she has at this suggestion, and, with a look of disgust, proclaims, "Me no like duck! Duck hom mi dee. Smell no good!"
Hmmmmm, what's this about now? This is the only thing, besides beef, I'd found in all that time that the lass wouldn't stuff into her pretty face.
"Me no like duck." she said again, and pulled me on down the street, leaving the delicious looking fowl behind.
Later on, during a later trip over, we were in a hotel room in Bangkok watching TV after just returning from the Bourbon Street Restaurant, where I'd stuffed myself with the beef burritos and nachos. I felt a bit of rumbling in my belly, and got off the bed to go to the hong nam (bathroom) to ... errrr ... relieve the pressure as it were. All of a sudden, with no real warning, I let rip, quite by accident, with a wall shattering fahhht! In Boston we don't fart, we faht.
Whoops! I looked at her, smiled, and did my best Rodney Dangerfield imitation. You know, the scene from the movie 'Caddy Shack' I think it was where Rodney cuts one while at a posh party and, looking around with his googly eyes and upturned palms, exclaims, "What? Did someone step on a duck or something?"
"Waaaaaaaaaaahhhhh!" she cries, covering her nose, and starts laughing herself silly. "She... she... she's laughing." I thought to myself in utter surprise and shock. Then, when the smell finally hits me too, I exclaim, "Wow! Smells like a duck too," while waving my arms about. This strikes her as even funnier, and, getting a whiff of this herself, in between gales of laughter, she agrees, laughing uproariously and saying, "Smells like duck too. Hahahahahahahahehehehehehehahaha."
Well, seeing as she thought that one so funny, I let rip another wall paper peeling 'Quuuuuuaaaaacccccckkkk' and exclaimed, "Hey. There must be TWO ducks in here. Call management." Which had her rolling on the bed in tears, and holding her sides and cracking (or quacking) her own joke, yelling, "TOO MANY DUCKS IN THAILAND! ME NO LIKE DUCKS." and laughing so hard I thought she would hurt herself. We both started giggling and laughing to beat the band, tears in our eyes and sides aching, and chuckled all night through whenever we'd glance at each other.
Actually you could say we, 'Quacked up.' You could, I won't.
I was stunned and amazed, a woman who thinks farts are funny. At that moment I knew I was in love, utterly and hopelessly in love with the lass, and I asked her to marry me the next night.
So from now on here is fair warning. If you hear my lady say something about 'Too many ducks in Thailand!' ... clear the room. Because once again I can be proud of my farts, and will loudly proclaim and claim mine with glee, chortling and chuckling and reveling in its 'hang time' and ducky aroma.
Farts are funny. I knew it all along.
Later, you little stinkers.
(The Central Scrutinizer)
© Cent. All rights reserved by the author.