Contrary to popular belief, I do not save up my gas to sadistically torture my caregivers.
I smile when I break wind because I always have. Like any eight-year-old boy, and some little girls, I find bodily functions hilarious. My family was so poor, that our main source of entertainment was each other. When you eat commodities, you get powdered eggs, powdered milk, and a humongous chunk of fart-producing, fake cheese.
A quiet night in front of the tube, was, invariably, interrupted by an SBD, or a ripper. What is an SBD? An insidious noxious cloud that explodes inside the nostrils, inspiring either retreat or battle stations. Within our family, it was battle or die.
You may be thinking that this was a mere pastime among siblings; you would be wrong to exclude the parental units. Dad was a sneak attacker, waiting until us kids were mesmermized by a television show... Rrrrrrrip! We'd get an aromatic flutterblast right at eye level. Mom wasn't quite so disgusting but neither was she blameless.
It was agreed that I was the reigning champion by the time I left home. I'm not sure how but I managed to marry another champion despite hiding my, er skillset. And somehow, we spawned an adorable grand champion. I still recall, in great detail, the day she acquired invisible stink.
It was a typical, temperate, southern California day, in the Von's parking lot. We had just packed the car with groceries, her father and I, when both of us smelled a God-awful stench. I looked, accusingly, at her father. He shook his head, no. He inclined his head toward me, asking if it was me. I shook my head negative. We looked down at the chattering, little, golden-haired cherub in her carseat. We were so proud.
In the latter years of my life, I learned the secret to my success. Lactose-intolerance and a dogged adherence to a diet rich in cheese, milk, and yogurt! From that point, dairy got substituted with soy-based products, soy lattes, Silk, almond milk, and vegan cheeses.
Now I'm lying in my hospice bed, attended to by caregivers. I lay in this bed 24/7, getting weaker by the day. I've ceased being abstinent from dairy. I eat whatever I can, chocolate, macaroni and cheese, sushi, whatever I can manage. I'm steadily losing weight, thus whatever makes a calorie. Unfortunately, since I'm paralyzed, I cannot shift to the side to manage a one-cheek-sneak.
So now you know why I pass gas, break wind, and blast ass, when you roll me over. I cannot do it without you.
I smile when I break wind because I always have. Like any eight-year-old boy, and some little girls, I find bodily functions hilarious. My family was so poor, that our main source of entertainment was each other. When you eat commodities, you get powdered eggs, powdered milk, and a humongous chunk of fart-producing, fake cheese.
A quiet night in front of the tube, was, invariably, interrupted by an SBD, or a ripper. What is an SBD? An insidious noxious cloud that explodes inside the nostrils, inspiring either retreat or battle stations. Within our family, it was battle or die.
You may be thinking that this was a mere pastime among siblings; you would be wrong to exclude the parental units. Dad was a sneak attacker, waiting until us kids were mesmermized by a television show... Rrrrrrrip! We'd get an aromatic flutterblast right at eye level. Mom wasn't quite so disgusting but neither was she blameless.
It was agreed that I was the reigning champion by the time I left home. I'm not sure how but I managed to marry another champion despite hiding my, er skillset. And somehow, we spawned an adorable grand champion. I still recall, in great detail, the day she acquired invisible stink.
It was a typical, temperate, southern California day, in the Von's parking lot. We had just packed the car with groceries, her father and I, when both of us smelled a God-awful stench. I looked, accusingly, at her father. He shook his head, no. He inclined his head toward me, asking if it was me. I shook my head negative. We looked down at the chattering, little, golden-haired cherub in her carseat. We were so proud.
In the latter years of my life, I learned the secret to my success. Lactose-intolerance and a dogged adherence to a diet rich in cheese, milk, and yogurt! From that point, dairy got substituted with soy-based products, soy lattes, Silk, almond milk, and vegan cheeses.
Now I'm lying in my hospice bed, attended to by caregivers. I lay in this bed 24/7, getting weaker by the day. I've ceased being abstinent from dairy. I eat whatever I can, chocolate, macaroni and cheese, sushi, whatever I can manage. I'm steadily losing weight, thus whatever makes a calorie. Unfortunately, since I'm paralyzed, I cannot shift to the side to manage a one-cheek-sneak.
So now you know why I pass gas, break wind, and blast ass, when you roll me over. I cannot do it without you.
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