You know what is hard? Being funny is hard. Entertaining people for FREE is hard. Rocks are hard. Trying to be kind to assholes is hard. Life is hard. Parenting is hard. For some, shutting their nasty pie hole is hard. Not gagging when I wipe my kids’ butt or when I brush my teeth is hard. Surviving this last week of summer vacation is hard.
You know what isn’t too difficult? Laughing. Being nice. Scrolling on by something you don’t like. Making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Pouring and drinking a glass of wine. Dancing to a great song. Wasting the day away on Facebook. Watching a Johnny Depp movie. Being nice. (This one is so easy I had to mention it twice)
My dad always told me that opinions are like assholes because everyone has one. Most people wouldn’t sit down in a five-star restaurant and rip an earth-shattering fart because it just isn’t appropriate. While it may hurt like hell to hold in that fart, it just isn’t done. You clinch your cheeks and you pray that nothing escapes before you make it to a more appropriate fart-ripping venue. Once you are in the comfort of your own gaseous bubble, you let that baby flow and you sigh in relief.
These interwebs have made us more open to farting in public. Except we do it verbally and verbal farts are by far the worst. More disgusting than the ones that come after eating onion rings with a side of deviled eggs. Their smell is revolting and they have a tendency to linger for days. They can take the most wonderful post about babies and rainbows and unicorns and turn it into a post about religion and politics and gun control. Before you know it, that one verbal gassing has spread and it forces others to start releasing their own juices and before you know it, the entire post smells worse than a fraternity house after a two-day kegger leaving an unsuspecting house-mother in its wake.
It takes hours to clean up the mess and days to air out the house. The house-mother can often be found in tears constantly dousing herself in Lysol wondering why in the hell she took this job. The pay sucks and the rewards are few and far between. Yet she stays. She learns to breathe through her mouth and to stay locked in her room on the weekends. She stays because she loves it. She adores the conversations, the company, sometimes she even joins in and farts with the best of them. When it’s right to do so.
I’m not gonna argue with you, sometimes it just feels good to fart. It feels good to let it out and to share it with those around you. It is refreshing and damn it, you just feel better when all is said and done. It doesn’t mean that those around you enjoy it. That they want to take a deep breath and inhale your aroma. That they enjoy your gas as much as you do. That it is the right place and right time to let one fly. Unless you ARE at a kegger, then by all means….let em rip. Most people would never even know.
What in the hell was I talking about? Right, opinions. It’s normal to have them. It’s also normal to want to share them. It’s just common courtesy to not be an asshole about it. It’s easy to do, just squeeze your cheeks.