Women toot.
We do. This is a fact.
Let us observe a moment of silence as this realization sinks in.
…………………you okay? Good.
I know there are a lot of men out there that prefer to live in the fantasy land where women are soft and squishy creatures that smell sweet as rose water and frolic about, completely oblivious to any call of nature (if you get my drift.) But I am here to say…I may be soft and squishy in all the right places…but honey, it ain’t all roses. Not ALL the time anyway.
Now with that being said, I think there is a distinct difference in the manner in which men and women answer the call.
Men have no shame or embarrassment in this arena. They are happy to trumpet away without regard to location, present company or the potential lethality of their flatulence. Now, there may be a modest few who blame the surprise toot on the ’chirping spider’ that has magically taken residence in the house but I have found that more often that not, men not only take pride when they let a good one rip…but they take great humor in it as well.
Ladies….Dutch Oven. Need I say more?
Women on the other hand, are more what I would call opportunistic tooters. Common decency usually prohibits us from partaking in the happy-go-lucky release the men so enjoy. Though there is the exception of the occasional escape toot…but even then we generally have the decency to blame it on a squeaky floor or noisy chair.
In our quest to be discrete…women have mastered the art of the silent toot. And if it backfires on us (no pun intended), and threatens to rat us out…we are resourceful enough to initiate ‘Operation Crop Dusting’ in hopes that the distribution will weaken the evidence and work in our favor.
Antics aside, I suppose in the end it boils down to this…perhaps the truth is that we really don’t want you to know we toot anymore than YOU want to know we do it. So for now let‘s just agree that it’s time to head back and smell the roses…
8 comments:
OMG. if anyone EVER gave me the dtuch oven, our relationship would effectively be over.
There is nothing more fun than saving your farts and doing them on your partner. Fact.
I recently went camping with four girls and as soon as we got there, one girl declared that she has a lot of gas (good thing we were all sleeping in the same tent). Then it was like that comment triggered everyone to admit that they too fart all the time. Yes free farts flew around the whole weekend. I kept mine to myself. Actually I felt guilty that I didn't have more gas to share.
In description of men you forgot the old "Pull My Finger" ploy and "That Damn Frog".
My husband has never actually tooted in front of me. I know, hard to believe. I've heard him like once while he was sleeping. That is it. He still won't let one go when I'm in the room after 10 years!
But strangely, I'm often quite impressed by the sheer verocity of the farts that come out of my boyfriend's arse. It's a point I never thought I'd get to with another.
haha this post is hilarious :) I've dated men who were unabashful about anything, and in turn made me feel much more at ease with my body and its various (very natural, I might add) functions. And then there were a couple who seemed embarrassed about the whole thing, which made me more uncomfortable ...
In the end, I definitely prefer the ones who are open!
Definitely too much information here.
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