PEOPLE LOVE FARTS! Not, you know, enduring them. But they love hearing them and hearing about them: fart jokes will probably be with us until Sheldon Cooper’s dreams of our brains being moved to non-tissue bodies are realized. If someone turns their nose up at a fart joke, you’re probably wasting your time in any kind of conversation with that person. God only knows what would happen if you told them a poopie joke!
And apparently, people love reading about farts: My article “Those Legendary Oatmeal Farts Are Real!” surpassed my piece on my beautiful cousin, supermodel Colleen Corby, as the most widely read post on this blog. I was surprised that Colleen was so popular but even more surprised when an article on dietary fiber and digestion proved more popular.
If you ever turn to the internet for fart jokes, good luck. There is a wide array of options, including adult fart jokes, kids fart jokes, literary fart jokes, sophisticated fart jokes, and, of course, Alexa fart jokes. Frankly, most of them stink.
Or, maybe I should say they don’t stink.
This half-length portrait of Robert Burns by Alexander Nasmyth has become the most well-known and widely reproduced image of the famous Scottish poet. He is shown fashionably dressed against a landscape, evoking his rural background in Alloway, Ayrshire, Scotland. (Wikipedia)
Where ere ye be
When my brothers, sister, and I were young, my maternal grandmother moved in with us. Possessing the bowels of an ancient, her passing of gas was loud and frequent. This stoop in opposition to our parents, who rarely if ever farted in the presence of their children.
When we laughed at Gramma’s farts, she responded by telling us, “Where ere you be, let your wind flow free.” For years, we thought this was a kernel of family wisdom. It wasn’t until the internet made research so easy that I looked it up.
Lo and behold, it can be traced to one Robert “Rabbie” Burns, also known as the Bard of Ayrshire and the Ploughman Poet. Among his many works is this admonition: “Where ere ye be, let yer wind gang free.” I could suppose that this indicates that Gramma read poetry.
As I needed to flesh this article out a bit, I remembered a joke that I had saved on my computer years ago.
Are you ready?
The photo at the top of this page is of the Canadian near Jasper, Alberta, with the gorgeous Rocky Mountains in the background.
The blanket
A man and a woman who had never met before found themselves assigned to the same sleeping room on a lengthy train trip. Initially, they were both uneasy about sharing a room and the breaches of privacy that it would require. But they were both very tired and they were, after all, both adults.
Gentlemanly, he offered her choice of berths. She chose the lower, so he climbed into the upper one.
They snuggled into their covers and quickly fell asleep.
At 1:00 AM, the man leaned down and to ask the woman for a favor. As he looked at her sleeping face, he realized how lovely she was. He gently woke her and said, “Pardon me. I’m sorry to bother you, but would you reach into the closet to get me a second blanket? I’m awfully cold.”
She opened her eyes and looked up at him, thinking. “I have a better idea,” she replied. “Just for tonight, let’s pretend that we’re married.”
He smiled. “That’s a great idea!”
“Good,” she replied. “Get your own fucking blanket.”
After a moment of silence, he said, “As you wish.” He then turned over, farted loudly, and went back to sleep.
