There are many different kinds of farts in the world. I once had a book (or what passes in my house as a reference manual) called The Fart Book that detailed a great many of them. For example, there was the Mud Sucker Fart, a fart that emulates the sound that occurs when you get your shoe stuck in the mud and slowly have to pull it out. I've pulled this one off a few times, and after each one I then had to A) Check my pants to ensure that I didn't shit myself, and B) Went and wiped my ass just to make sure.
This also causes the phenomenon I like to call the Phantom Shit. When some soldiers get their limbs blown off in battle, they often still feel the lost arm twitching and moving. Such is the case with the Phantom Shit, where your brain tricks you into thinking the shit is there, though that isn't the case. But you always check to make sure.
Now, the different types of farts chronicled in that book largely had to do with the kind of noise the fart made. Whereas I, on the other hand, prefer to go strictly by aroma and the food the inspired them. I am a sommelier, if you will, of expelled gas. And this week I found a vintage that really, really caught my fancy.
Now there are standard food-induced farts that we are all familiar with. For example, there is the Mexican Food Fart, which ends up smelling like scrambled eggs for no real reason. A huevos asscheros, if you will. Then there is the Chinese Food Fart, which smells exactly like Chinese food itself. This makes sense, since most takeout Chinese food is glazed with an industrial polymer so strong, it defies even the meanest bile and stomach acid. General Tso in = General Tso out.
Anyone who reads this site is no doubt familiar with the Beer Fart, which smells like a turd that's been marinating overnight in ammonia and vinegar. And, of course, there is the Turkey Fart, a holiday staple as old as plum pudding itself. I farted so much over Thanksgiving, my wife wouldn't speak to me by the end of the night. By morning, the stench of the farts had actually embedded itself in our couch, like some sort of invisible stain. We flipped the cushions.
Well now, I have found a champion among specific-food-induced farts, and it goes by the title of...
The Zucchini Bread Fart.
A couple weeks ago, Mrs. Drew made some zucchini bread. Why? I don't know. This is not exactly the world's most scintillating foodstuff. Zucchini bread is like carrot cake without the nuts or cream cheese frosting (Note: when eating carrot cake, I eat ONLY the cream cheese frosting). It's hardly exciting. But I make it a strict policy in life to eat and drink anything that happens to be around. So I ate it.
Oh, the smell. Like someone came up behind you and strangled you to within an inch of your life, only without the odd sexual gratification. It was brutal. I almost called a gastroenterologist. I'd eaten half the loaf before I'd realized what I had done. What the fuck is in zucchini bread that's so lethal? When I eat zucchini regularly, I don't produce anal discharge that could kill the entire Kurdish population. Some sort of chemical reaction had turned this shit into straight-up Butt Plutonium. It's as nasty as a Lennox Lewis uppercut. And nowhere near as queer. So be warned: Avoid the zucchini bread.
Your Meast of the Week is Deuce McAllister of the Saints.
You know the deal here. Got a lot of yards, brought 14 Eagles into the end zone with him. When the Saints drafted Reggie Bush, the Deuce didn't bitch. He just went out and got fucking better. That's measty behavior, Deuce. I can think of no better person (and no better-named person) to gift-wrap that last half of the zucchini bread to.
NOTE: Your favorites farts are welcome in the comments. Why not stay and make a day of it?