Last night, in an evening meeting, times were tough. You see, I’ve been playing with my diet and have a strange intestinal weather system blowing through, and I’m not sure if there’ll be follow-through each time I fart. I can honestly say that I’ve never sharted* in my entire life, and last night was not the time to break new ground.

So, here I am, in the midst of a group of guys I would gladly fart around (even in a meeting, just for a quick laugh), but I’m pinching like the dickens because I don’t want to cause a spill and really derail the proceedings. So, I just sat there, pinched, pinched some more, went to the can during breaks to safely relieve the pressure, and just kept on pinching. I never thought I’d miss underwear-friendly farting so much!

* – half fart, half sh**, occuring while wearing clothes; not on purpose

Fart-Meter:

• Stink factor: 0/10 (0 farts)
• Volume: 0/10
• Characteristics: classic “it might be the end of my credibility” shart alert
• Trip to the John solved it: not yet; hopefully soon
• Fart Fuel: milk (after 2 months of trying a reduced-dairy diet)
• Casualties: farting freedom