Sunday, January 30, 2005
The Fart Machine
I keep thinking that I need to make a new anonymous blog that is dedicated to the things that I either *am* too embarassed to post about or things that I *should be* too embarassed to post about. But in the meantime, here it is. A confession to how unclassy I really am, right? ;-)
So... my family is obsessed with bathroom humor. I should explain that for starters.
My very prim and proper sister is dating an appropriately professional and clean-cut gentleman who just happens to own a fart machine. Yes, that is a link to farts.com on my blog! Yikes! Anyway...
Now, I had never heard of a fart machine prior to a phone call with my sister Karen this evening. Apparently, it is a small device that emits an array of fart noises and is operated by a remote control.
So my sister borrowed the said device from her polite and proper boyfriend Jason and decided to use it the next time my parents came to visit. Apparently, the remote control operates as far as 50 feet away. So she went upstairs, leaving my parents alone in the living room and triggered the device. Fortunately, she remained within eaershot of the conversation that ensued.
Mom: Edgar, can't you do that in the bathroom? Or at least say excuse me!
Dad: What? I didn't do it!
Mom (laughing to herself): Cripes! You old man, you're starting to lose it. Now you can't even remember when you farted even a moment later.
Dad (giving her "the look"): I know you did it. That's why you're laughing.
Mom: I did not! If I had farted, I would have felt it.
[another fart goes off]
Mom (now frightened): Ahhh! What is it? It's coming from over there. [She points to a vacant chair]. Is it a mouse? Edgar, go look! There is someone else in the house with us.
Of course, my sister finally disclosed the source of the farts. But she continued to laugh for another half an hour. She enjoyed torturing my parents so much, she decided to set the fart machine out when a couple of her friends came by for a blind date. The device was safely hidden behind the couch; the remote was warm in her pocket. But the plan didn't go as expected. As she sat down, she accidentally hit the remote. Matt (her friend Robin's date) looked at her while Robin threw Matt a nasty look. And then Jason (my sister's date who was in on the joke) looked seriously at Matt and simply said, "Dude," inferring enough meaning in a single word.
Matt: What? I didn't do it. I thought it was Karen, but I didn't want to embarass her by pointing it out.
My sister Karen told me about the first time her date Jason showed her his new toy. They were out on a date at a restaurant. Jason put the device in his pocket and let Karen carry the remote control. As they walked across the parking lot to their car after dinner, another couple was walking by.
Karen explained on the phone with me, "I couldn't resist - I hit the remote! I was so impressed, though. Jason just looked at the couple and said, 'Pardon me. Beans for dinner.' How could I wish for a better boyfriend? He was so graceful about allowing me the pleasure of torturing him with a fart machine. AND he likes body function humor, too!"
I fear for their future children. :-)
Though I have to admit, I laughed to the point of tears for about fifteen minutes as my sister shared each of these stories with me. I do wonder if an enjoyment of bathroom humor is possibly genetic. Though it may also be contagious. C hates bathroom humor and has been very distressed that her sister MC has picked up some amusement in it from the years of spending time with me.
So... my family is obsessed with bathroom humor. I should explain that for starters.
My very prim and proper sister is dating an appropriately professional and clean-cut gentleman who just happens to own a fart machine. Yes, that is a link to farts.com on my blog! Yikes! Anyway...
Now, I had never heard of a fart machine prior to a phone call with my sister Karen this evening. Apparently, it is a small device that emits an array of fart noises and is operated by a remote control.
So my sister borrowed the said device from her polite and proper boyfriend Jason and decided to use it the next time my parents came to visit. Apparently, the remote control operates as far as 50 feet away. So she went upstairs, leaving my parents alone in the living room and triggered the device. Fortunately, she remained within eaershot of the conversation that ensued.
Mom: Edgar, can't you do that in the bathroom? Or at least say excuse me!
Dad: What? I didn't do it!
Mom (laughing to herself): Cripes! You old man, you're starting to lose it. Now you can't even remember when you farted even a moment later.
Dad (giving her "the look"): I know you did it. That's why you're laughing.
Mom: I did not! If I had farted, I would have felt it.
[another fart goes off]
Mom (now frightened): Ahhh! What is it? It's coming from over there. [She points to a vacant chair]. Is it a mouse? Edgar, go look! There is someone else in the house with us.
Of course, my sister finally disclosed the source of the farts. But she continued to laugh for another half an hour. She enjoyed torturing my parents so much, she decided to set the fart machine out when a couple of her friends came by for a blind date. The device was safely hidden behind the couch; the remote was warm in her pocket. But the plan didn't go as expected. As she sat down, she accidentally hit the remote. Matt (her friend Robin's date) looked at her while Robin threw Matt a nasty look. And then Jason (my sister's date who was in on the joke) looked seriously at Matt and simply said, "Dude," inferring enough meaning in a single word.
Matt: What? I didn't do it. I thought it was Karen, but I didn't want to embarass her by pointing it out.
My sister Karen told me about the first time her date Jason showed her his new toy. They were out on a date at a restaurant. Jason put the device in his pocket and let Karen carry the remote control. As they walked across the parking lot to their car after dinner, another couple was walking by.
Karen explained on the phone with me, "I couldn't resist - I hit the remote! I was so impressed, though. Jason just looked at the couple and said, 'Pardon me. Beans for dinner.' How could I wish for a better boyfriend? He was so graceful about allowing me the pleasure of torturing him with a fart machine. AND he likes body function humor, too!"
I fear for their future children. :-)
Though I have to admit, I laughed to the point of tears for about fifteen minutes as my sister shared each of these stories with me. I do wonder if an enjoyment of bathroom humor is possibly genetic. Though it may also be contagious. C hates bathroom humor and has been very distressed that her sister MC has picked up some amusement in it from the years of spending time with me.
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