|WEEK IN CRAIG: LET'S GET SCATTY.|
|By Amy Blair||
Last week I wrote about the Boston Red Sox -- a team that I considered inherently and universally amusing -- and learned a valuable lesson apparently not everyone finds humor in the fact that the Red Sox haven't won a World Series since 1918. Apparently people take this stuff pretty seriously.
Like, shiiiiiiiit, I had no idea.
So, this week I thought I'd write about a topic with more universal appeal. I looked deep within my heart, and asked myself, "Blair, what's the one thing that makes everyone laugh, regardless of what baseball team they support?" The inspiration struck me faster than a bout of early morning diarrhea after a night of drinking $2 cans of Pabst Blue Ribbon.
People like poop and farts.
Unlike Red Sox jokes, everyone -- young and old alike -- loves a good poop or fart joke. And, after last week's death threats began arriving, I'm feeling eager to please.
So, consider my mouth zipped when it comes to the Red Sox. It's all about pooping and farting from here on out. The people have spoken, and I'm giving them what they want.
Let's get scatty!
I'm not sure, but I think I may have accidentally crapped my pants. I'm too scared to go to the bathroom and check.
I find this post verrry troublesome. If it is to be taken seriously, the most obviously perplexing part is why, for the love of God, would your first reaction upon crapping your pants be to post about it on craigslist? If, God forbid, I ever crap my pants, I'm fairly certain that my first instinct will not involve the Internet in any way.
However, more troubling is the fact that I'm beginning to think that crapping oneself is a far more frequent occurrence than I ever imagined possible. I've been under the impression that only toddlers, senior citizens, homeless people and those experiencing heroin withdrawal crapped their pants. I hate it that this thought has even crept into my mind, but I'm actually beginning to think that regular people poop themselves, too.
I personally know of two people who have shat themselves as adults. And, if two people have admitted to crapping themselves, there have to be at least a few more who just haven't felt the need to make pooping their pants public knowledge.
Up until this point, I have pretty much taken it for granted that shitting myself wasn't something I had to worry about. I felt pretty safe with that presumption. Have I just been naïve all these years? Is pooping yourself something that could really happen? Don't we New Yorkers have enough things to be neurotic about? Now we have to worry about crapping our pants out of the blue? Is there no justice in this world?
I'm disgusted. Let's move onto farting.
How do you people do it? Does anyone else have this problem? I go through almost my entire day walking funny because there is no place, save my apartment, that is safe to let off a toot. I mean, on the street there is always someone walking behind you, in the office my cube is too near everyone else's, I swear I am wearing a pair of size-too-big pants because of the bloated feeling I get every afternoon after lunch. I often find myself daydreaming about cabbing it to Central Park during lunch to find a secluded spot in the park to just fart to my little heart's content. Whew, well it feels a little better to get this rant off my chest, but not as good as it would feel to... well, you know.
OK, is it just me, or is this the most inane question you've ever read? I mean, for God's sake, woman -- you need to fart? Next time instead of daydreaming about taking a cab to Central Park, just go in the bathroom, close the door and toot your horn to your heart's content. Just don't forget the Lysol.
Of course, the obvious is never good enough on craigslist.
I figured it out on the way into work this AM... on the subway platform as the train is pulling in or out... enough noise and wind to keep you anonymous...
Ah, just what New York needs: more people farting en masse on the subway platforms. I can't decide whether this is brilliant or repulsive. Well, at least it might mean less people farting in the crowded, windowless subway cars. I do declare, fart away, friends, as the trains roll in!
I know this is a horrible thing to do, and that is why I took time out of my day to apologize. I am a secretive serial farter. Most of you have nothing to worry about. You will not be blamed for my farts.
As part of my apology, I will give insight to my methods. I use discretion when I fart on the subway. I will wait until someone somewhat trashier or uglier is within smelling distance before blowing my bowels (silently, of course, or else this technique would not work). My thoughts are that those around me will not assume I was the farter, but rather the other less-put-together person(s). This technique has been tested repeatedly on the G train with Polish blue-collar workers. It has also been used on the L train with scuzzy-looking hipsters. I feel that this works, but just to be sure, I'll give a slight glare in the direction of the "culprit." Also, it is sometimes advantageous to slide away from the "culprit" as well. I have yet to be caught.
I have poor eating habits, which could explain my horrible ass smells. However, this is no reason to fart and blame it on others. For that, I say...
"Blowing my bowels" is the most disgusting phrase I've ever heard. But, other than that, this poster has struck pure farting gold. Nothing funnier than an S.B.D. blamed on someone else. Tried and true since Kindergarten.
And there you have it: 1,000 words on pooping and pooting. But, hey, at least I didn't talk about the Red Sox again, right?
Amy Blair is eager to be called horrible names on Craig's List. Bring it.