Wednesday, May 13, 2009

The Miraculous Ceiling Fan

Have you ever heard of Godwin's Law? Basically, it states that all forms of internet debate will eventually deteriorate into referencing Hilter and Nazi Germany. I have my own theory, The Confused Dildo's Supposition, which asseverates that any person talking about their relationship with their significant other will eventually focus on flatulence.

It's a reality that is grim, but one we must all face. The bright side of this is that farts are always funny.

My Little Honey (tm) is a wonderful man and I love him dearly. He is a brilliant urban planner, an incredibly talented musician and a wonderful father. He is also a stinky farter. His farts are just plain ridiculous.

A few months ago, I was so thrilled when he read that having too much soy in your diet could be unhealthy, for up to this point the man's snack of choice was edamame. I don't want to rain on my Little Honey's (tm) parade, but there was nothing worse than being in the same room with him after he downed a bowl of soybeans. It probably smells better living next door to a paper plant than being in the room with him..... I would rather not clean the litterbox for three days than having to smell him after soybeans. It's wretched and he is so proud, proving that for some, their farts can do no wrong. One day after the Little Honey blasted some air biscuits while watching the Bengals game, the neighbor came over, exclaimed "smells like toots in here", and hastily left.

They are that bad.

Last night, as I lay in bed dozing off to sleep with the cool night breeze coming in through the window, I could smell the wonderful scents of nature; lilacs, grass, pine, fresh rain. I conceded to the fragrant air as it began to carry me away from the doldrums of everyday life and transcend me into dreamland. I was floating on a white, puffy cloud until a hot, spoiled egg, with an under note of onion, gas creeped into my subconscious and violently hurled me back into reality. The Little Honey was busy creating a dutch oven that could overpower small children and it was starting to leak out from underneath the sheets in an effort to bring evil and darkness onto the Earth.

This gas smelled like the ugly, olive green that people used to decorate their kitchens with in the 1970's. This gas was staining the bed and with every move I made to escape it, it clobbered me back into submission. The Little Honey (tm) tried to play possum, a feat he failed miserably, as he lay there giggling like an idiot. When I started to gasp, choke, and complain he declared that he would fix this awful situation he created and jumped up to right the wrongs of his ways............. In other words, he turned on the ceiling fan.

A ceiling fan that is not made of artificial wooden vinyl, but crafted from golden and magic, with the force of seventy gazillion ocean breezes that can banish any loathsome, repulsive aromas into Siberia.


That odor lingered all night long. The gas was the Kato Kalin to my Brentwood manner, and it would not just fuck off and dissipate. The next morning, I had to change the sheets, stuff the comforter in the dryer with a scented sheet, and Febreeze bomb the mattress pad.


This is the man who holds my heart and whom I am going to marry.

I'm a lucky gal.


  1. Ok that sounds SOOOO much worse than my boyo's problem. Although one night it was so bad that I snuck into the bathroom to get away from it and when I checked to see if the coast was clear he was awake and thought it had been me (since I was the one peeking out of the bathroom). I had to laugh! It was so bad that he woke himself up!

    However... it's been a while... they're generally just annoying and not deadly. You must REALLY love him.

  2. I am wetting myself, cracking up!

    I am raising a boy, and I think they come prepackaged with smelly farts!

    LOL! Great post!

  3. That, Katy, was very well written.

    For the record though, no avacado
    green adorned our family kitchen:)

    :) Congratulations on your
    upcoming marriage, sincerely.

    I have to say, although definitely not a prude, and living with 3 of
    them, farts to me, are just not

    However, your writing was so descriptive, and I actually had
    to laugh at your perfect descriptive wording. Well done!

    (not too shabby for an old lady).

    Cassandra - oh yes, Kato Katlin, haven't
    heard that name since way back
    in 94.:)

    verification word is puncho.

    How appropro. Sounds like you're in love. Now that is definitely
    not a drag as you continue to
    grow old with your farter;)
    (couldn't resist) just put gas
    mask on your bridal registry, k ?

    will have to read on :)


  4. Great read, Kate!

  5. k, um I'm here. . . a little confused and now I'm not here. back to writing.

  6. just win already...hahaha

  7. Sheesh ! Tell him to eat a hamburger already.

  8. This was awesome! Thanks for the laugh . . . and for using a word like asseverates. Very clever.

  9. Katy,
    This is brilliantly funny. My son would adore your husband. Really hope you win this time.

  10. Oh my goodness...I had tears in my eyes I was laughing so hard. My husband eats alot of soy products and he is very very rank. I feel your pain:)

  11. Funny! Makes me think of the time a bunch of us went to see in a packed movie house "Raging Bull" and someone let out one of those eye watering farts that would literally gag a rat and nobody dared utter a sound for fear that they might be suspected of dealing it. Whoever did it was in some serious pain gastro-wise I figure. Later on, after the incident had been forgotten (somehow) when we were walking to our cars discussing our favorite parts, George asked "How did you guys like the part in movie where I farted"?
    Too freakin much man. He was a better man than me for admitting that one.

  12. Hahaha funny!! but i cant figure out this one "This gas smelled like the ugly, olive green that people used to decorate their kitchens with in the 1970's" My parents start construction of my body system at early 80's..