Date A Guy Who Farts

Duane Weller

Date a guy who farts. Find him in class just after lunch where someone is dropping serious bombs, or through one of his friends; they’ve exhausted everyone else at this point. Wherever you find him, just find him…filling every room with aromatic ass-blasts.

Date a guy who farts. Accept his initiation to dinner. Smile as he orders enchiladas with black beans and cheese Enjoy the way he moves. Don’t laugh when you notice him trying to hide the pinching of his buns on the hard plastic booth. Cry later, tears of joy, when you remember how he couldn’t hold it any longer, as he let one go for the whole restaurant. For now, tend to the small Mexican baby who needs CPR because of the fusty fumes.

Date a guy who farts. Go to his place. Bring Yankee Candles, an oil reed diffuser and potpourri. Offer them as gifts. Say you always give flowery things to the ones you’re really interested in. Watch a guy who farts smile, broadly, since he hasn’t heard that in so long. Feel your heart break. Feel the wind breaking. Imagine being part of a photo shoot or a music video where your hair dramatically and beautifully flows.

Stay overnight with a guy who farts. Wake every few hours from a comforting rumble, an earthquake of love. Wake up in the morning and smooch. Smooch the poop away. Go to the bathroom but brace yourself. Now hear, for the first time, the full extent of his powers. And know he is God, awful.

Accept his proposal of marriage. Watch as a guy who farts gets up from his knee and rips one from the place that is as tight as the diamond you now have on your finger. Put your other finger on his lips as he tries to say sorry. Squeeze him like a whoopee cushion. You have one all your own now.

Marry a guy who farts. He’ll do his best for you. Tell him the other girls were crazy for not liking the way he cut his cheese. Gouda, provolone, stilton. Enjoy, always, the balmy bouquet.

Go on a honeymoon with a guy who farts. Give him your blanket. Ask for more blankets from the stewardess. Steal blankets from small children if you must. Cover your guy who farts in blankets. Use the energy a guy who farts releases into those blankets to fuel the plane on the way back. Save money.

Start a family with a guy who farts. Be happy he’s there with you in the birthing room. Cry tears of happiness when he sees you’ve pooped but he loves you so much he releases that which covers all other smells in the room. See in the air, like notes, the tender odorous overtures.

Never cheat on a guy who farts with a guy who doesn’t fart. A guy who doesn’t fart is too controlled, too predictable. He doesn’t lift one leg while wearing whitey-tighties in the kitchen after a good meal. He doesn’t roll the windows down in winter because a crime was committed in the car. He doesn’t say “whoopsie” after he’s pushed out his fetid funk for you. A guy who doesn’t fart doesn’t know to love.

Grow old with a guy who farts. Appreciate that your children are resilient, with tough skins protecting them against the fouler aspects of the world. They are X-Men now.

Cherish memories with a guy who farts. Look through photo albums starring the two of you, redolent of so much redolence.

Spend last moments with a guy who farts. Hold his hand as he squeezes one eye. He’s about to pass on to the next world. Know he is only passing gas.

Bury a guy who farts. Weep as the pastor gives the eulogy then smile as everyone in the room covers their nose. Look around. See how they’re unsure of what that smell is. Know exactly what it is, and smile again, ever wider.

Watch as they lower a guy who farts in the ground. Throw a rose on his final resting place. See that rose wither before it reaches the casket. His last gift, a familiar suffocating air. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

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