As many of you can imagine, when I came from the wild, I had to relearn how to live as a human being. The most difficult thing that I had to learn – something that I still struggle with today – was basic etiquette. Humans have some of the most absurd rules and regulations of how to behave in front of other people that I have ever seen. In the panda world, it was as simple as look at each other, allow others to smell you to make sure you aren’t a threat, don’t steal their bamboo, and respect the mating rules (which is basically a combination of first come, first served, and a type of “seat-check” rule for genitals). But with humans, there seems to be a different set of rules for each and every different person and situation. Now, I won’t bore you with talking about all of them, but I will focus on one that affects literally every single person in the world: farting.
That’s right people, farting. You have some of the most absurd rules I’ve ever heard when it comes to farting. For pandas, we just simply fart. No special ceremony, no special behavior. We just let our asses flap in the wind. But ever since I’ve broken into the human world, I’ve been told, “You know, if you’re going to fart, you should really be going into the other room to do it. It’s only polite.” Every single time.
Now, there are a couple of different issues that I have with this sentiment. Number one, why should I leave the room to do something that everybody does? I fart, you fart, Obama farts, Glenn Beck farts. I’m fairly certain Sarah Palin does, but I’m not guaranteeing anything. Now, certainly I don’t mean to be saying that just because there is something everyone does that they should be able to do it wherever they want, but I’m just saying if it’s something everybody does and it doesn’t hurt anyone, why not? I mean, yeah, it will smell bad for a couple minutes, and that one person (depending on what they ate earlier) may have to go to the restroom just to double-check moisture levels, but on the other hand, everyone will have benefited from having giggled at least once that day.
Not only that, but imagine the time lost during the day from leaving one room to go fart in another. Imagine you are at a meeting at work, and you feel a poot slowly creeping it’s way down your colon, weaving in and out of clumped up fecal matter, and you have to get up to leave the room just so you can fart. Imagine if you missed something incredibly important, like which loopholes your company uses to not pay taxes, or the proper way to cook McDonald’s French fries, or the proper way to perform CPR on an infant (Seriously, do you have any idea how quickly your day can be ruined when your child dies, and you try to eat away the pain but they give fucking soggy fries?).
Not only that, but my main issue is where the hell are we supposed to go? The other room? Where the hell is this “other room?” The kitchen? The bathroom? The study or the billiards room? I don’t know about you, but what happens when you get to that other room? Obviously, yes, you fart, but then what? Do you just leave? Do you have any idea how horrifying it is to walk into a room where there isn’t a living soul and yet it smells like rancid ass? Sure, if it’s the bathroom, then whatever, it’s not a big deal. But when I walk into the kitchen, I don’t want to be met by a mysterious invisibly butt-cloud. And not only that, but what happens when you walk in on somebody farting? What’s the proper way to deal with that situation? Do you just act like it’s completely normal, like handwashing, and just start a conversation? Or is it like being at the urinal; no eye contact, no talking, period? Or is it like being walked in on during sex and you just kind of stare at the person trying to figure out something to say to them but at the same time you’re trying not to burst out laughing because that would offend the woman that is currently playing host to you, and thus you are just sitting there, speechless, until the other person leaves the room shaking his or her head. And what about when multiple people need to fart? Do you go one at a time, or if you’re good enough friends can you just hotbox that bitch?
Or maybe I have been duped this whole time? Perhaps it is just one of those secrets of the rich, that the phrase began because there is actually a room solely dedicated to farting in, but the rich are simply too snooty to actually say, “the farting room,” so they just say, “the other room.” And how convenient would that be? You could deck it out to be perfect for farting. You could have a super-high-powered ventilation system that whisks away all the irritating fumes, an oxygen bar in case you know it’s going to be a string of farts, a couple of lighters to light them on fire if you must, and a TV that has nothing on it except for a news crawl. It would also have it’s very own toilet because hey, you never know when a really clean fart will turn into something else.
Well, that’s all the hot air I’ve got for now.
Take it easy,