Yesterday, Amelia gifted me a book that she knew would be everything to me. The Fart Tootorial: Farting Fundamentals, Master Blaster Techniques, & The Complete Toot Taxonomy was all that and more. I learned just about every fun fact there is to know about gas — from which foods make your farts smell the worst (cauliflower and cheese) to why your own toots don’t smell bad to you (because it reminds you of the smell of your mother). Of particular interest to me were the farting release techniques. While it was helpful to learn how to do the Downward Floating Fog or the Power Squat, I felt that many of these techniques were male-centric (probably because the book was written by two men). But what of us female farters? We deserve gas releasing techniques that are right for us. Here are a few I enjoy…
The Frisky HQ is under construction for the next couple of days so I was planning on working from home. Then yesterday, my internet crapped out and I found myself running to the local coffee shop in my pajamas. Six hours later, I was still sitting in my pajamas. It was an interesting day. There was a blind date that I eavesdropped on for a while. I thought that would be the subject of this week’s Dating Don’ts. Then the Boston Marathon bombing happened and the mood turned dark. I sat in silence for a while, watching CNN. My roommate was next to me, because she had the day off of work to study for a grad school exam. She eventually interrupted the silence to confess that she’s been watching that new show “Ready For Love.” Someone needed to cut the tension.
I laughed. But she was like, “Don’t laugh! They had this whole bit about how you should never say the word ‘fart’ on a date. It was interesting.” Then we got into an in-depth discussion about bodily functions and dating. Because these are the things that people sometimes talk about when terrible things happen in the world. Keep reading »
Dear 38-Year-Old Anonymous Man,
You must be dying of embarrassment right now after receiving a five-page, formal letter of reprimand from your employer accusing you of “uncontrollable flatulence” that is creating an “intolerable” and “hostile” environment for coworkers. OUCH.
Apparently, you told your supervisor that you suffered from “some medical conditions,” but he or she isn’t buying it. Your manager stated that “nothing that you have submitted has indicated that you would have uncontrollable flatulence. It is my belief that you can control this condition.” Keep reading »
Allow me to be all at once bold and competitive: I’ve got the worst gas of anyone you’ve ever met. If society was somehow different, and my … gift, let’s call it, was better valued, I would be your Queen of Farts. I would command attention, take down armies. I would redraw the lines of femininity. I would be worshiped and adored. None of this is likely to happen, though, is it? So here I am, in this world, in this society, in which (I dislike the words “gassy” and “farty”) a gastrointestinally-challenged woman has a tough row to hoe. Consider the sheer, exhausting effort that goes into covering up your scent. My plight: I’ve got an ass like a machine gun, people. And it’s on a mission to ruin my life. Keep reading »
Meet “So Incredibly Humiliated,” a woman whose relationship threatens to collapse on its shaky foundations thanks to the most vile and villainous transgression of them all: farting. Yes, that’s right, “So Incredibly Humiliated” wrote Slate advice columnist “Dear Prudence” because it seems she might have accidentally farted a couple of times in front of her boyfriend – in her sleep! — and now she’s afraid he may never speak to her again. Read on… Keep reading »
I am writing to express my admiration for the recent Ebay auction of your REAL Fart In A Jar. We all know what kind of havoc joining a gym and eating healthy food can wreak on one’s digestive system. Brussels sprouts and broccoli are particularly brutal on mine. Instead of keeping your “harsh smelling gas” a secret like most of us would, you decided to do something bold, something brave. You decided to “Sell That Shit” (as suggested by your brother upon smelling your gas). Keep reading »
There are so many ways to measure a year. As the musical “Rent” asks, how do you measure in 525,600 minutes? In daylights? In sunsets? In midnights? In cups of coffee? I prefer to measure it in farts. As it turns out, 2011 was a good year for gas. Click through to recall some of the best fart moments of the year.
The best farting moments are ones that A) occur at inappropriate moments (like when Claire Danes is talking about identity), B) are acknowledged by the farter, and C) are referred to as something cute like “blowing a little frog out of there.” Congrats, Whoopi Goldberg, you may have just achieved best fart of the year. [Buzzfeed]
There are plenty of things men don’t understand about women. Like why you insist on leaving the toilet seat down. Or buy candles that smell like food. Or give pointers on pooping etiquette. Or analyze the gender politics of bowel movements. Would somebody please explain the allure of gloomy teenage vampires dry humping? To be fair, there are plenty of things women don’t understand about men. Like why we find flatulence so amusing. In the interest of gender relations, I will explain this. Keep reading »
Poor Nancy Grace is having a tough go of it on “Dancing With The Stars.” First her nipple slipped out of her dress and now she’s being accused of letting one rip after waltzing to “Moon River.” Naturally, she’s not owning up to her gassy gaffe. She claims she was framed and is launching an investigation to see whose butt was really talking. Yeah, she also denied that nip slip, but we all saw her aureola. Just own it, Nancy! Nothing to be ashamed of. [ONTD]
Keep clicking for more farting female celebrities.Keep clicking for more farting female celebrities.