Talking Out Your Ass

I discovered at 4:30 this morning that I was bilingual. After several hours of reflection, I’m still not convinced that’s a good thing.

You see, I was rudely awakened by a rumbly in my tumbly that immediately made me think of Pooh (as in the bear). I knew what was initiating the conflict. However, it wasn’t hunger. It was the dreaded nightgas mixture… FaRt2.

Now, I’m not your average husband. I prefer not to fart in front of my wife, even if she’s asleep. Someone told a story here about how he farted in the middle of the night and his wife sat bolt upright, reached over and grabbed the phone and started saying “Hello? Hello?” I cherish my wife. I’ll only ask her to endure so much.

So I took my polite self downstairs and laid on the couch, drew a blanket up close but carefully provided a flap for ventilation, and proceeded to initiate a fartstorm of substantial proportions. Had Jill Brown been there to weather my gusts, she could have drawn an impressive array of isobars around my port o’ call. Problem was, these bursts were loud. Loud to the point where I was scared my wife was going to hear them all the way upstairs. So I tried an experiment.

You let the air out of a balloon all at once and you get a big “Blllaaaarrrppp”. However, if you let it eek out without the lips flapping, then the rudeness factor is severly constrained. Hmmmm…

So laying on my side, I kinda lift the top cheek with one hand and initiate decompression. I hear a pleasant rush of air in a tolerable pfffffffff until all of a sudden my ass talked to me. Strange as it may seem, my butt said “mama”. :eek:

I laid there for a second trying to convince myself I’d really heard that. Remember near the end of Planet Of The Apes where Taylor and Dr. Zeius are in the cave and Nova drops that doll and it says “mama”? It sounded just like that and the look of shock on Nova’s face matched mine exactly.

What’s still kinda freaking me is that my little 'un turns two this weekend and all the grandparents are coming in for the blessed event. I know we’re going to be eating tons. There’s a good chance I’ll be back on that couch round midnight Friday or Saturday. What if I’m expelling more FaRt2 and my sphincter leaks another “mama” out again? Either my wife or mother or mother-in-law might come running in to answer my urgent peal only to get whacked upside their head with a noxious cloud.

C’mon you butt, that’s no way to treat a mother.

Tums. Tums.

(Oh and if the fart voice starts telling you to do things, don’t listen to it.)

I didn’t need to know any of this. Serves me right of opening this thread.

*[sub]It should be noted that Waverly never has flatulence, embarrassing or otherwise. He is fascinated not just that so many or thusly afflicted, but more so that they are compelled to talk about it.[/sub]

Again with the bodily functions! Ohmygod, a talking butt! That is hilarious.

Oh, and I commend you on being a righteous dude and not fartin’ in front of the little lady. My husband’s farts have been known to trigger the movement of tectonic plates.

I ought to send you a case of “beano.”

I farted in front of my husband last night. It wasn’t smelly, but the noise terrified him. I feel rather proud of it. Loud and long.

I know there’s a big competition between parents as to who’s name will be mentioned first… mama’s or daddy’s. Admittedly, I’ve never heard a “d” come out of there before, not to imply that it’s impossible.

I just wanted the little mommies to know that they’ve won, you know, in hopes of warming their cockles.

I always knew you could talk out of your ass, lieu, I’ve read your posts. ::rimshot::

Aw c’mon, you knew somebody was going to say it. That one is just too easy.

Anyway, very impressive that your ass can talk. But can it type? We need to know damnit. How many words per minute? Can it do stenography? How about nice caligraphy suitable for Christmas cards? Err,… on second thought, maybe we don’t need to know that last one. I could do without the mental image.

note to self: never borrow a pen from lieu

Perhaps if you inserted two fingers into the blast hole next time the ensuing whistle will only make the dog come running. If any wives/mothers/mothers-in-law show up after, you will have someone to blame for the stench cloud.

Just trying to help…

:: hangs head in shame ::


This is the funniest thing I’ve read all day! Thank you, lieu!

Type? I dunno. Certainly it’s never been much on dictation.

I once farted Jingle Bells. It was very odd.

Laughing all the way?
I’d heard my butt yell out “Pete” before, actually several times, when I was jogging. It also is on a first name basis with “Weeb” as I discovered once when I was startled.

But “Mama”?

I sure hope you mean the song.

thats nothing,when you can leave a wet one on the bed(like a jetfighters afterburn)thats something to talk about

I’ve had a “Mama” type fart before, at a friends house while sleeping over. It woke him up, and he thought I said something…
Sometimes I fart while playing my drums, and it rattles the snares underneath to where it sounds rather like a drumroll.

What a scary thread. I’m still laughing though.

Maybe it is an encrypted message from Hell, waiting to be unleashed from your bung-hole to take over man kind.

It was said of St. Augustine that when he cut one, it smelled like roses. I expect the same thing will be said of Our Leader, someday. The Discreet Charm of the Bush Wazoo

I can tell from the cadence that mine are asking me questions…butt alass*, I don’t speak the language.
*[sub]::giant cane appears and yanks Dooku off the stage::[/sub]

I think it’s nearly time for lieu to be nominated as the patron saint of belly laughs… Or at least potty humor.

Bravo on yet another.

[sub]But if your ass laughs, I really don’t think I wanna know about it.[/sub]