Farts

Farts are funny, right?

I mean, I know you're an adult, and bodily function humor is beneath you, right?  Beneath you as in coming out of your ass...

I couldn't remember what the blog topic I was going to write about.  Then the FP farted, and then I farted shortly after.  So, I thought, let's write about pass flatus.  That's what my mom always called it.  

My family always laughed about farts.  Especially my dad's, which were the loudest.  Now, he just leaks out motorboat farts and I guess because he's hard of hearing he thinks their silent.  Either that or he doesn't care.  It's weird to hear him farting for several seconds and not be able to say anything or laugh, and have other people ignore it.

At work, I don't really fart too much.  I don't eat too much at work, not like at other jobs where I might be constantly shoving a dessert, or cheese, or a steak end, or risotto in my pie hole.  Oh, and I don't drink as much.  Not going in to work all hungover with soft stool really helps matters.  

But, it's almost a shame I don't have to fart too much at work.  I am boiling and peeling eggs almost every day.  And as you know, eggs smell like the ultimate fart smell.  So, the chef always makes jokes and asks me if I'm farting.  So, I answer, well yeah, that's why I boiled the eggs, so I can cover up the smell.

The FP came in yesterday and sat at the bar for about an hour.  He said that someone kept farting, like crop dusting right by him.  So, he wanted to make a disclaimer, that it wasn't him farting.  But that would make him seem guilty, and it would call out whoever was actually farting.  So he didn't say anything.  But he didn't want anyone to think it was him.

The funniest fart incident probably on record though, was in college.  My BFF and I were sitting in our dorm room farting.  A lot.  Just stinking up the room.  The combo of cigarette smoke and fart must have been quite a smell.  So, this girl from down the hall comes in.  I'm pretty sure we had guilty looks on our faces.  She asks, "what's that smell?"  And we just both bust a gut ROTFL.....

If Beauty Is Skin Deep, I'm Hideous!

So, on top of being sick, I got some skin issues going on.  This is part of the trade of moving to the southeast.  My skin hates heat and humidity.  It actually loves dry warm climates... like San Diego.

So, I spent several days in the sun, an there it is, my old nemisis - heat rash.  It always first appears on my arms halfway up my forearms to halfway up my biceps (or lack thereof).  If I'm constantly exposed to humid heat, say like in a commercial kitchen, then my neck will get it too.  That's the worst, really.  In fact, if I ever get a job, and I start to get heat rash on my neck, then the hair is going to have to be chopped off, hair buyer or not.

So, right now, I just have the heat rash on my arms.  I guess I'm going to have to shower more frequently, with cooler water.  Ugh!  When I do take showers, every few days or so, I like long hot showers.  But, I can't afford myself that luxury, unless I want to have skin the texture of pimply plastered walls like in my childhood bedroom.

But, that's not my only problem.  I also get mosquito bites on my legs - thighs to calf.  If I walk outside anytime between 4pm and 10 pm at all, there is a good chance that I will be sucked of my delicious blood by those pesky little vampiric insects.  And those bites are so itchy.  When we were in Lakeland this summer, my friend Ignodeath said that his mom always taught him to make an x mark on the bite, so as to release the poison faster, or something like that.  It's bullshit.  Just some weird thing moms make up to occupy kids so they don't scratch as much.  I used to make those x marks on my bites as a kid.  I would make them so deep that I would get pretty close to breaking skin.

And then, as if that were not enough plague to my delicate epidermis (which is, in fact showing), there's the fleas in the grass.  Luckily, they have not hitched their way into the house, yet.  So, sometimes when I walk into the grass, all of a sudden, there's all these bites on my feet and ankles.  The only reason I think it's fleas is because one day I saw one on my leg, but the little bugger was of course too fast for me.  It had hopped back off me, before I even thought to raise my hand and smash it to death.

Last night, I was itchy all over, heat rash, mosquito bites and flea bites were inflamed.  Luckily, I found the cortisone cream easy enough.  I slathered it on like the way they slather the mayo on those italian sandwiches at that Miami Subs.

But, as of right now, I'm still going to say it's worth it.  I mean, our house is so cute, and we live 3 miles from the beach where kitties and chickens and raccoons and foxes (the FP saw 2 foxes yesterday) all live.


Some of the best bodily release/issue resolving feelings ever:


Scratching an itch

Soothing an itch with cortisone

Farting when you have bloaty pent up gas (even better if you subject a loved one to the bouquet that your digestive system has developed)

Peeing or pooing when you've been holding it in for so long that you think you're going to mess yourself. (Or cleaning it up after you mess yourself)

Sneezing after it's been building up, and it's really wet and mucusy and you spit everywhere from the pressure, but you feel like you blew out everything out of the nasal cavity.  (Some say it's orgasmic?!?)

Sometimes just a good old fashioned vomit when you feel sick. (And then you can get back to drinkin again!)

Oh, yeah, and orgasms too - but that's kind of a given.  (Kind of like saying the best steak au poivre I ever had was at this quaint little bistro in gay Paree with the best bottle of Bordeaux from a small little wine and cheese making village in... Bordeaux.)  No doy.