Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Puttin' Gas In Your Car
Did you ever fart in your car? Let's see a show of hands.
There you are, driving down the street, and Mr. Methane comes-a-calling. "What the hell?" you think, "I'm alone. Who can I offend?" So you let 'er rip. And it's so nasty, you actually offend yourself. You roll down the driver's window to get rid of it, but all you do is create a "fart toronado" in your car, where it swirls around and around the interior and won't leave. In order to obey the laws of physics, you then open the passenger window to create a breeze through the car. But by now, you're gagging and having trouble keeping your eyes open. You open the back windows - thank God for powered windows - and by taking short breaths, you manage to get your Zyklon B fart out of the car, with only some minor residual brain damage.
So, when you see some frantic idiot, driving around in really hot or really cold weather with all his windows down, you now know why.
Anyway, you're finally able to roll your windows back up and breathe normally. You reach your destination, and shift around in your seat to shut off your car and get out. That's when you find out that there was a trapped pocket of fart under your ass. It releases, and you're scrambling to get the door open. You climb out, then do that thing where you stand outside and swing the door back and forth like a giant fan on hinges.
Finally, it's all clear. You lock up, go in the house, and forget the whole horrible affair. That is, until your wife goes out later to use the car. It's then that you learn that you only thought you got rid of it that first time. It has a half-life very close to that of plutonium, it's still in there, and you're in trouble.
Not that I know. I'm just thinkin' out loud here.
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There you are, driving down the street, and Mr. Methane comes-a-calling. "What the hell?" you think, "I'm alone. Who can I offend?" So you let 'er rip. And it's so nasty, you actually offend yourself. You roll down the driver's window to get rid of it, but all you do is create a "fart toronado" in your car, where it swirls around and around the interior and won't leave. In order to obey the laws of physics, you then open the passenger window to create a breeze through the car. But by now, you're gagging and having trouble keeping your eyes open. You open the back windows - thank God for powered windows - and by taking short breaths, you manage to get your Zyklon B fart out of the car, with only some minor residual brain damage.
So, when you see some frantic idiot, driving around in really hot or really cold weather with all his windows down, you now know why.
Anyway, you're finally able to roll your windows back up and breathe normally. You reach your destination, and shift around in your seat to shut off your car and get out. That's when you find out that there was a trapped pocket of fart under your ass. It releases, and you're scrambling to get the door open. You climb out, then do that thing where you stand outside and swing the door back and forth like a giant fan on hinges.
Finally, it's all clear. You lock up, go in the house, and forget the whole horrible affair. That is, until your wife goes out later to use the car. It's then that you learn that you only thought you got rid of it that first time. It has a half-life very close to that of plutonium, it's still in there, and you're in trouble.
Not that I know. I'm just thinkin' out loud here.
