The first thing I did this morning before even getting up was stretch in my bed and sure enough while in mid-stretch, fart number one came a calling. I’d have to say that this fart was fitting for being my number one fart of the day. It played out like a loud alarm clock and reminded me of a time when I was a kid in church camp (scary thought me being in church camp - right? For some reason church came and me just don't seem like two things that would go together). My cousin was letting out these huge farts all night long at chruch camp - I guess he was bloated at the time. The next day everyone was laughing as they told him how he had been playing the butt trumpet all night long. I wasn’t even out of bed yet and the butt trumpet had sounded - we’re off to a good start.

Every morning I take a shower. I hate to admit this but I’m a sweater, not as in one of those ugly Christmas things your grandmother knits for you and expects you to wear even though you look like a dumbass in it. I’m a sweater in that no matter what I do I start to sweat. If I eat spicy food, sweat will be running down my face before I finish. If it’s over 90 degrees outside I’ll be drenched in sweat - not a good thing when you live in Vegas and 90 degree days are the cool days of summer. Well, I’m ok with the fact that I’m a sweater and have accepted that part of me. In doing so, I know that no matter how late I am for work or whatever I will take a shower. It’s a known fact that when you sweat you release pheromones that attract the opposite sex and I just don’t want to go to work dripping in pheromones attracting the women I work with, not that they’re bad looking women or anything like that, but with the exception of one person, the thought of having sex with a co-worker makes me throw up a little in my mouth.

So, I’m taking my shower singing a Beatles song, “You say you want a revolution well you know we all want to change the world…you talk about destruction … “ and then all of a sudden my butt cheeks start flapping and a loud “bwwwpopoomp” echoes throughout the bathroom. It was so loud and unexpected that I even scared myself. I physically jumped up and almost slipped in the shower giving myself a concussion. Once I gained my composure I couldn’t help but smile at fart number two because it was a good one and one any man would be proud to claim as his own... then it started to smell real bad and I had to get out of the restroom quickly before the fart smell stuck to me.

So, I’m at work and the boss wants to talk to me and just as I go in her office I feel that little rumble in my stomach and I know there is one more - hey if the facts are correct, I still have ten more farts for the day. I’m standing there listening to what she has to say and I feel it. I feel that little bit of gas rumbling around in my stomach wanting to escape. I can’t let one in my bosses office as she’s talking to me - she would know it was me, so I squeeze my ass cheeks together real tight, hoping my boss doesn’t notice that I’m standing in front of her desk with a strange look on my face, sweat beads forming on my hairline, and my ass clutched so tightly that nothing is getting out of there, not even one of those high pitched farts that sound like a little kid crying in the distance. Finally, after what seems like four days my boss finishes telling me whatever it was she was telling me - something about doing this or not doing this - I don’t remember because all my concentration was focused on keeping my ass cheeks tightly squeezed. I backed out of her office taking little, baby steps so as not to relax my ass cheeks and let out fart number three of the day.

Once I was outside her office I felt a silent one slip out. “Pfffffffffftt”  Just like that. All that clutching of my ass cheeks and it slips out like nothing. Very little noise and no smell - at least not that I can smell at the time, but I wasn’t sticking around to see if there was a smell. I look around, no one is in the hallway, so I’m safe.The closest person to fart ground zero is The Tough Guy of the clinic and I figure if anyone says anything I’ll discreetly blame it on The Tough Guy. Whose going to argue with The Though Guy about his farts? No one ‘cause he’s The Tough Guy and even Tough Guys fart.

At lunch time I decide that I’m going to walk over to the main building and get a turkey sandwich. As I’m walking there is a weird “Thrrrrrrrptptptptptptflpflpflpflpflprrrrrrttttoot” following me. I look back, didn’t see anything and realize that I’m fart walking or crop dusting and for some reason this makes me laugh which makes the gas come out faster. “Thrrrrrrrptptptptptptflpflpflpflpflprrrrrrttttoot” and then there were three stragglers that came with each step I took “Pop. Pop. Pop.“ In the walk to the cafeteria I had to have let out at least seven more farts - so, if you’re still with me through this post, which I feel not everyone has continued reading this, then you’ll see that I’ve made it up to ten farts in the day and the day is only half way through. I feel like I’m doing good here - and I’m not feeling so bloated anymore.

I was ok for the rest of the day, no passage of gas, unless one slipped out that I didn’t notice, but if it did then it’s not even worth posting about. After work my nephew wanted to go to the toy store to buy some batman toy he saw advertised on television that will be played with for about three minutes and then forgotten like all his other toys. I had promised him a trip to the store though, so we head to the toy store with the windows rolled down - just in case. We’re walking down the action figure isle looking at the Star Wars, Star Trek, Battlestar Galactica, and Ben 10 toys when that familiar rumbling started in my stomach. I grab my nephew by the shoulder and pushed him in front of me and said, “Keep walking in front of me. I think someone behind me is farting.”

He looked up at me and said, “that’s disgusting. Let’s get out of here.”

I started to tell him that we fart on average 14 times a day, but figured he didn’t want to know that information. We quickly walked to another area of the store that was fart free. “PTHBTH. PTHBTH. PTHBTH. PTHBTH.” all four in a row and with that I wanted to jump up and celebrate - it took the whole day but it’s true, you really do fart 14 times a day.

“pffffffffffttt” Make that 13 times a day.