As promised, a Fart Joke:
This one is fairly old, and I’ve heard it from a multitude of cultures… the joke, and the farts themselves, LOL!
There once was a young man who was courting a lovely maiden. He really wanted to impress her, as well as her parents. So one evening he had dinner with the family, a repast which consisted of several Celtic delicacies: boiled cabbage, brussels sprouts, navy beans, onions, and garlic. So much garlic! He was not of Celtic descent, so all of this gassy food had a bad affect on him. The dinner was churning around in his stomach. He desperately needed to let a fart, but he did not want to embarrass himself in front of his lady fair, nor her Mam & Da’. The young man knew that he’d be judged harshly for passing gas in front of the womenfolk.
After supper, the young gentleman came into their parlor, where his intended was playing the piano. Mam and Da’ sat down to enjoy some after-dinner coffee, but the young man was squirming in his chair, thinking to himself, “I really must cut a fart. If I can’t relieve myself of this awful gas pretty darn soon, I might explode!”
Just then, the family’s elderly dog waddled into the room. It was a Plott Hound, a breed known for hunting bears, loyalty, and well, also for having really stinky farts. This doggy was ancient, and fat, with grey around his muzzle. The old hound meandered over to the young guy, and flopped down underneath his chair. “Aha!” thought the man. “I could let go a fart, and blame it on the dog! The family will never know that it was me.”
The young lady was still playing the piano, the mother was sipping her coffee, the father was talking about sports. The young gentleman leaned slightly to one side, and let a small, yet noisy fart. It was pretty smelly, as well. Da’ looked up, and said, “Rover, get on out’a here!”
“Ha,” thought the guy, “it’s working. I successfully blamed my fart on the old dog! They’ll never know that it was me.” So he let fly with another one. This fart was even louder, and smelled like rotting garbage on a hot day. The father looks over at the elderly hound laying beneath the suitor’s chair, and yells, “Go on, Rover, get out’a here, right now!”
Nonplussed, the young lady continued playing the piano. Her mother delicately took a sip of her coffee. The father continued talking about the local sports team. And the suitor felt a churning in his guts. All of that cabbage, the beans, and the garlic was making its presence known. The young gentlemen leaned over to one side, and released the noisiest, most rancid, rumbling noxious fart ever in the history of all mankind. The varnish began to peel off the chair. A picture fell off the wall. Flies were circling. The young man was relieved, for not only had he released the pressure within his bowels, he’d successfully made the old dog the scapegoat for it. Or so he thought.
Then the father hollered, “Rover! Get the hell out of here, before this guy craps all over you!”