Spring Break
Sexcapades: Cutting the cheese at home
Gregory Westcott
Issue date: 10/22/08 Section: Sexcapades
"I'll give you $100 if you fart in front of me right now."
There was no quiver in her voice or even a smile on her face. She was dead serious. The shock of the statement knocked me back into confusion.
And this is where all my troubles began: With a fart.
Well, not only a fart, but a lack of one too.
Last week, my girlfriend and I were watching "America's Next Top Model." I mean, "Ultimate Fighting Championship." Yeah, that's right, we were sitting on our couch watching two men pummel each other furiously when my girl faced me with an indescribable intensity and presented a proposition that would eventually change my life.
Was I capable? Could I produce a release from my bowels on command and change our relationship as we knew it?
No, I couldn't. Not even the image of being handed a crisp Benjamin Franklin and wafting the air with it could entice my bowels to release some gas.
Why would my girl want to issue this challenge?
I guess she just wanted to know who I truly was.
Unfortunately, that wasn't possible, because throughout the duration of our relationship, I've been holding something back. In the four years that we have dated, she has never known the sound, or scent, that comes from my intestines. I've never slipped. I've never "hot-boxed" or given her a "Dutch-oven." Nothing - not even once.
Joe Spada, a film major, has had experiences in the world of gastronomical confusion.
"I was with a girl for a year and a half and never did anything like that in front of her. I was kind of fooling around with this one girl for a couple weeks and she was right up front, like, farted in front of me first," Spada said.
His reaction?
"I busted up laughing because I didn't expect that."
Let me interject, in the name of manliness, that I do fart. In fact, the average person cuts the cheese at least 10 to 14 times a day, said Dr. Billy Goldberg on bodyodd.msnbc.com. He also goes on to say that men and women produce the same amount of gas.
I'll admit that I'm a little delicate. I hate even saying the word because it mimics the actual action.
Air fills up your mouth as you emphasize the friction between your lips so the "f" sound latches on your guttural word: FART. Even the "t" is a statement declaring that attention shall be made to the bearer. It's a gross word. I avoid saying it if I can.
Now, to understand what I hoped to avoid, you must know what flatulence is. Not to get scientific on you, but smellypoop.com reports that "farting" is caused by gases - nitrogen, hydrogen, carbon dioxide, oxygen and methane - mixing in your digestive tract and the expulsion of said gasses from your vibrating anal sphincter.
Kessa Pellum, a public relations major, said the whole situation is a matter of comfort level. After describing her revenge fart in front her boyfriends' friends, you get the idea that it takes a certain personality trait to allow someone to be cool with flatulence. Here is this attractive co-ed who relives an event where she is letting go a fart in her boyfriend's face in response to one of his gas attacks. And she tells this story with a smile.
Although Pellum couldn't give an actual timeline for a relationship to be taken to that level, she did have an opinion on who usually casts the first stone.
"I think girls probably do it first more. Just because I think it almost gets to the point where we are more, maybe, more self-conscious about it that we do it accidentally because we are nervous," Pellum said.
I never reached that comfort level. A week after my inability to produce gas, my girlfriend and I decided to break up. Now, I know my relationship didn't end with a fart. I'm not an idiot. But there were strange coincidences. A few days after my failure to fart, my girlfriend ripped one.
It was sweet like sugar and I'm not talking about the smell because there wasn't any. The fart was escorted out of her bottom by two little translucent hummingbirds, which I'm pretty sure flew down from bird heaven for the task. She offered neither apologetic glances nor even a flinch of remorse. I could tell that she was proud of her conquest.
Am I supposed to be ashamed that I can't join the normal world of farting? I mean dogs smell each other's behinds; do they have something figured out that I don't? They also eat feces, but they don't get to choose from a large selection of gourmet meals either so I'm not going to blame them.
Have you also heard of pheromones? I sometimes forget that we are at Sacramento State and not Harvard. Pheromones are scents that mammals, insects and even plants give off to illicit a certain behavior in a similar species.
Chemical smells that change behavior. Sound familiar? Sounds like a fart.
So, as I pack up the last four years of my life, along with the shattered pieces of my heart, may my mind let tears fall, but gases stay where they are.
At least, until I'm alone.
Greg Westcott can be reached at gwestcott@statehornet.com
There was no quiver in her voice or even a smile on her face. She was dead serious. The shock of the statement knocked me back into confusion.
And this is where all my troubles began: With a fart.
Well, not only a fart, but a lack of one too.
Last week, my girlfriend and I were watching "America's Next Top Model." I mean, "Ultimate Fighting Championship." Yeah, that's right, we were sitting on our couch watching two men pummel each other furiously when my girl faced me with an indescribable intensity and presented a proposition that would eventually change my life.
Was I capable? Could I produce a release from my bowels on command and change our relationship as we knew it?
No, I couldn't. Not even the image of being handed a crisp Benjamin Franklin and wafting the air with it could entice my bowels to release some gas.
Why would my girl want to issue this challenge?
I guess she just wanted to know who I truly was.
Unfortunately, that wasn't possible, because throughout the duration of our relationship, I've been holding something back. In the four years that we have dated, she has never known the sound, or scent, that comes from my intestines. I've never slipped. I've never "hot-boxed" or given her a "Dutch-oven." Nothing - not even once.
Joe Spada, a film major, has had experiences in the world of gastronomical confusion.
"I was with a girl for a year and a half and never did anything like that in front of her. I was kind of fooling around with this one girl for a couple weeks and she was right up front, like, farted in front of me first," Spada said.
His reaction?
"I busted up laughing because I didn't expect that."
Let me interject, in the name of manliness, that I do fart. In fact, the average person cuts the cheese at least 10 to 14 times a day, said Dr. Billy Goldberg on bodyodd.msnbc.com. He also goes on to say that men and women produce the same amount of gas.
I'll admit that I'm a little delicate. I hate even saying the word because it mimics the actual action.
Air fills up your mouth as you emphasize the friction between your lips so the "f" sound latches on your guttural word: FART. Even the "t" is a statement declaring that attention shall be made to the bearer. It's a gross word. I avoid saying it if I can.
Now, to understand what I hoped to avoid, you must know what flatulence is. Not to get scientific on you, but smellypoop.com reports that "farting" is caused by gases - nitrogen, hydrogen, carbon dioxide, oxygen and methane - mixing in your digestive tract and the expulsion of said gasses from your vibrating anal sphincter.
Kessa Pellum, a public relations major, said the whole situation is a matter of comfort level. After describing her revenge fart in front her boyfriends' friends, you get the idea that it takes a certain personality trait to allow someone to be cool with flatulence. Here is this attractive co-ed who relives an event where she is letting go a fart in her boyfriend's face in response to one of his gas attacks. And she tells this story with a smile.
Although Pellum couldn't give an actual timeline for a relationship to be taken to that level, she did have an opinion on who usually casts the first stone.
"I think girls probably do it first more. Just because I think it almost gets to the point where we are more, maybe, more self-conscious about it that we do it accidentally because we are nervous," Pellum said.
I never reached that comfort level. A week after my inability to produce gas, my girlfriend and I decided to break up. Now, I know my relationship didn't end with a fart. I'm not an idiot. But there were strange coincidences. A few days after my failure to fart, my girlfriend ripped one.
It was sweet like sugar and I'm not talking about the smell because there wasn't any. The fart was escorted out of her bottom by two little translucent hummingbirds, which I'm pretty sure flew down from bird heaven for the task. She offered neither apologetic glances nor even a flinch of remorse. I could tell that she was proud of her conquest.
Am I supposed to be ashamed that I can't join the normal world of farting? I mean dogs smell each other's behinds; do they have something figured out that I don't? They also eat feces, but they don't get to choose from a large selection of gourmet meals either so I'm not going to blame them.
Have you also heard of pheromones? I sometimes forget that we are at Sacramento State and not Harvard. Pheromones are scents that mammals, insects and even plants give off to illicit a certain behavior in a similar species.
Chemical smells that change behavior. Sound familiar? Sounds like a fart.
So, as I pack up the last four years of my life, along with the shattered pieces of my heart, may my mind let tears fall, but gases stay where they are.
At least, until I'm alone.
Greg Westcott can be reached at gwestcott@statehornet.com
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