The title says it all. About what’s in this post, anyways. Below is what Nils originally wrote 1,000 years ago, before the fire, before the pumpkins, before, well, yeah. I’ll yakkayakkayakka about all that later, when I’m in more of The Writing MoOd, as they say. But for now, I’d like to ensharize with you a recording that I did special for all y’allz today: It’s ESRX (Ed Shepp Radio Experiment)-stil, meaning that it could’ve made it into the show when I was doing it. It’s from What the Nose Knows: The Science of Scent in Everyday Life, by Avery Gilbert. Chapter 2, pp. 28-30, and the title of the passage is Hey Beavis, Pull My Finger. It’s about the science of farting. Specifically, the science of olfaction as it relates to farts. Fair use, y’all. Anyway, here’s it is, if you wants to download:
Hey Beavis, Pull My Finger
And now Nils’s original entry, entitled Let the Farting Begin!
Let the Farting Begin!
When do I fart in presence of my beloved? That is the question I get the most. Well, allow me to quote Paula Deen: There’s no better time than RIGHT NOW! Let the farting begin! Don’t be ashamed-it’s spiritual. (A fart i the spirit of a real poop.) It has many names:
German: Furz, Pups, Pupser
In these times of St. Patrick’s Day (Ed’s note: I guess this was written around March. Feel the chagrin.) , Irish: Yes, fart.
Portugese: Dasintestinal, or Pum
And a vulgar way to say it in Croatian would be: Prdnuti
See? Spring is here; so is giving wind. Fart might be the new black. Still, though, I’m not as liberated yet. Maybe only in my sleep. By pure and ladylike accident, of course. So this is not a post with a Sex and the City-type confession: I farted! (giggle, giggle) No, this is about ED being liberated in front of me. A great progress in a relationship, I think. So whatever you call it, fart away! As long as no one forces me to do it in public. Because I never do.