Tuesday, January 19, 2010

Doug Part II

Of course you knew what Doug’s other talent would be, so turn away now if you don’t have the stomach for it.

It happened one day in November. It was early on a rainy morning. Classroom seating was arranged by last name. Doug’s last name placed him in the geographic center of the room.

Doug was known to fart on occasion. He’d do it when the nun was writing on the board and then he’d shout out something like, “Oh, Frankie, that was disgusting!” The nun would turn around to see a dumbfounded Frankie sitting there. Sister Vivian would say to Frankie, “Mr. Hasbrook, you are excused, please leave the room.” Which meant, go to the Boy’s Room and don’t come back until you’ve purged yourself.

Doug would do this several times in a row expelling several people from the room and the nun never put it together that each incident sounded pretty much the same and that it was always Doug calling out the names of the false perpetrators. Doug pointed at people randomly. There were 18 of us in class so he had a fresh crop every day. He even pointed the finger at girls and everybody knows that girls don’t fart…ever.

Doug was a gassy kid. He was very adept at expelling gas from every orifice in his being. One day he revealed the true genius of his craft. It was the sixth grade. It was that rainy morning in November. We were working on Arithmetic when suddenly the thin wooden laminated seat under Doug’s butt started to resonate. It was further amplified the metal enclosure under the seat that was used for book storage. This wasn’t just an ordinary fart, but rather one that went on and on. It was a John Coltrane sax solo, totally out in a room full of Bee Bop.

After ten seconds of the same note Doug started playing with the pitch. By then nearly every jaw had dropped. This thing just wasn’t stopping. Doug had a look of pleasure and relief on his face, along with a side of “At this point I wouldn’t stop it if I could.”

Finally after around 45 seconds Doug’s symphony came to an end, but still amazed, the class was frozen in a stunned condition, even Sister Vivian was at a loss.

Have you ever been a witness to someone putting Sea Marker into a river? This is a chemical dye that is used to show currents or leaks in an underwater pipe. All I could say is that the odor of Doug spread through the room quicker than Sea Marker in a swimming pool. It was like the concussion an atomic bomb. Suddenly the room was full of the screams of sixth graders. Everyone ran either for the door or to one of the four classroom windows thrusting their heads outside gulping at air like a goldfish in a bowl of stagnant water.

It took a while but I looked around and saw that the only person still seated at their desk was Doug. Finally Sister Vivian piped in and said, ““Mr. Grant, you are excused, please leave the room.” Doug looked at her and actually said, “What?” Sister Vivian replied “Get out!”

Doug headed for the door, but being the true professional that he was, he flashed a particularly toothy smile as he let out another short blast as he exited the room. We were done learning for the day.


Blogger Tango said...


6:01 AM  
Anonymous Astoriadude said...

Thats really funny what talent doug had

6:12 AM  
Blogger Auntie said...

You've outdone yourself today :)

6:30 AM  
Blogger darev2005 said...

Hee hee hee! A true professional indeed. Such things legends are made of. I have a coworker who is in his 30's and still refining his gastrointestinal skills. He serenades us daily and makes sure nobody spends too much time in the office.

veri word: rahstach- a klingon love ballad

6:49 AM  
Anonymous Ann Samuelson said...

I had a horse that I made it to the state fair with, he was allergic to hay, so I had to feed him alfalfa pellets. At the state fair he got into another horses hay, I went out into the arena for the english equitation class....he started out on the wrong lead in the figure 8, put his nose down, threw his tail up (which hit me in the back of the head, almost knocking off my derby), and let out what felt like an atomic bomb. I was sure I had been assasinated, I heard it hit every beam in the pavillion, nothing before or since has been as humbling as that moment....proof that gas can change your life!

8:45 AM  
Blogger selkie said...

well hell, i fart all the time. is that not normal?

10:12 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

the topics that will get me to comment. One time I was in the mensroom at a local restutant purging my self and the doors started flaping on all the stalls and someone walked in didn't what hit him I stayed holed until the coast was clear when I reentered the dining room I paused for a moment then the burst of laughfter gave the intruder away there was a lot of cunfused looks

10:38 AM  
Blogger richpix said...

"It's not the smell, it's the burning of my eyes."

VW--pantem: A sexy feline.

12:19 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

My husband could rival Doug. His friends still talk about the toxic cloud he released on the L-O-N-G elevator ride up the St.Louis arch.

Even though he can dish out room clearers with great enjoyment he can't take it. An SBD released by a dog or a little womanly poof from me and he's running for the ceiling fan.

Columbia Critter

8:06 PM  
Blogger The Guy Who Writes This said...

Tango, right you are.

Astoriadude, so funny the rest of us had a hard time focusing for the rest of the day

Auntie, I wonder what you consider my previous best was?

Darev, You could stop him. I know you carry a lighter.

Ann, the funny thing about horses is that they lift their tails before they fart, kind of like Doug lifting one cheek.

Selkie, no,you're a freak ; )

Papa,You can't get away with anything in a small town, but at least you were in the appropriate room at the time and not at the table or walking by several tables.

Rich, it's bad when your eyes start to burn. Oh man, that can't possibly come from humans, can it?

Critter, oh and that is a long ride, too. I wonder if they have a bucket of sawdust at the top for such incidents (see my next post).

5:33 AM  
Blogger Deke said...

What my wife leaves out is that the trip up the St. Louis Arch was on a late afternoon on a March 18th. This means I'd been gut-loaded with numerous pints of Guinness and a hearty serving of corned beef and cabbage the evening prior.

I was at my best and it was absolute acrid.

I later had the opportunity to introduce my wife two of my friend that made the road trip from Cincinnati to St. Louis. They both immediately attempted to relate this story to her. It has to rank (sorry) as one of the most epic farts in history!

8:35 PM  
Blogger The Guy Who Writes This said...

Deke, You don't have to explain it to me. Did you attend school in 1964 in Mahwah NJ? And what's this I hear that you run at the slightest whiff of a dog fart?

5:25 AM  
Blogger Mom of Three said...

Once we were in Wal Mart and SH let out one that started at aisle 4 and didn't stop rumbling until aisle 8. People just stopped as we walked by, stunned.

2:58 PM  
Blogger The Guy Who Writes This said...

I believe you called it a Gut Bomb at the time. And I doubt anyone at Walmart was surprised.

5:37 AM  

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