I heart to fart. I heart him too.

Disclaimer: Bodily functions discussed in this post. If you don’t like it, don’t read it.

I’ve found a candidate for an SO (aka Significant Other) who may be around for…a long time. I don’t say things like “forever” because I think it’s silly to make plans with “forever” in mind. I mean, you should consider that your “forever” may develop schizophrenia in its 20’s. And lots of “forevers” die of malaria. And some “forevers” have unfortunate bungee jumping experiences. And lions and bears sometimes eat “forevers.” Makes you rethink “forever” a bit, doesn’t it?

So anyways, a long-time SO – I think I’ve found one.

“Gasp! How can you say such things, oh great Blogger?!” you ask.

Well, because. It’s all very logical you see. I happen to have a crappy colon (Teehee, pun intended.), which the all-knowing M.D.s have all-knowingly dubbed “IBS,” i.e. “You have a crappy colon that doesn’t function correctly and we don’t know why but we’ll blame stress.” So, if I may be frank, I’m quite the gassy individual. And a good fart to me is like good sssssssssstrawberry shortcake (Gotcha with that one, didn’t I?).

“OK, all-knowing Blogger, where is the logic?” you ask.

Simple: I can fart around this long-time SO candidate. And I’m not talking dainty, girly farts smelling of roses and butterflies, I’m talking a fart of mass-destructive powers; farts that clear the room every time, and clear the room for at least 20 – 30 minutes, minimum; farts that could bring down Zeus. Yeah, they’re serious. And I decided awhile back I shouldn't waste my time with an SO who I couldn’t comfortably fart around; because, honestly, if I had to hold them in I think my guts would spontaneously combust (There’s a reason that stuff needs to leave your body.).

And, really, if you’re going to shoot for almost-forever, a fart-tolerator is much more practical than a flower-buyer. Because flowers die way before forever, but as long as my crappy colon stays with me (which I’m guessing will be forever in all ways relevant to my earthly existence), I’m pretty sure my awesome farts will accompany me on all of my dates. Plus I think inappropriate bodily functions are funny; and I like an SO I can laugh with.

So, it’s settled, I can fart big nasty farts while sitting next to him and he just makes a you’re-so-gross face and then we make out. Yes, prime candidate.