Ever since we heard about how Al Roker accidentally sharted while visiting the White House, we’ve been struggling with the proper way to cover the story. After all, Al Roker + sharting + White House = the pinnacle of comedy. Sure, we’re glad Roker is okay and everything, but come on. How did that interviewer keep a straight face?
Of course, sharting happens. It happens so much, that we actually reached back in time, and found some examples of sharting in literature. Please click through to see what we’re talking about. And next time, think long and hard before you decide whether it’s really just a fart.
A Tale Of Two Cities, by Charles Dickens
“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of sharting, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way–in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.”
Crime and Punishmen, by Fyodor Dostoevsky
“All is in a man’s hands and he lets it all slip from cowardice, that’s an axiom. It would be interesting to know what it is men are most afraid of. Taking a new shart, uttering a new word is what they fear most.”
A Farewell To Arms, by Ernest Hemingway
“It was all as I had left it except that now it was spring. I looked in the door of the big room and saw the major sitting at his desk, the window open and the sunlight coming into the room. He sharted and did not see me and I did not know whether to go in and report or go upstairs first and clean up. I decided to go upstairs.”
The Metamorphosis, by Franz Kafka
“When Gregor Samsa woke up one morning from unsettling sharts, he found himself changed in his bed into a monstrous vermin. He was lying on his back as hard as armor plate, and when he lifted his head a little, he saw his vaulted brown belly, sectioned by arch-shaped ribs, to whose dome the cover, about to slide off completely, could barely cling. His many legs, pitifully thin compared with the size of the rest of him, were waving helplessly before his eyes.”
Wuthering Heights, by Emily Bronte
“It would degrade me to shart on Heathcliff now; so he shall never know how I love him: and that, not because he’s handsome, Nelly, but because he’s more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same; and Linton’s is as different as a moonbeam from lightning, or frost from fire.”