Hairless Methane Factories

Let’s face it. All men are big methane factories packaged into hairy bodies. Or in my son’s case…hairless bodies.

I don’t understand. He has never eaten chili beans, White Castle, or drank beer. What gives? Does Similac fall into the category of “You will need an extra pair of underpants to take to work” foods?

And why does he always insist on sharting when he is sitting on my lap? It must be payback. That is the only conclusion I can come to. When mom isn’t around I just let them rip (well, ok….also when she is around.) Is he paying me back for all those times I burned his nostrils? All of those damn barking frog jokes? I have noticed that he smiles every time he releases an air biscuit. He enjoys toasting my olfactories…

How can so much gas and poo come out of such a sweet little baby? Looks like I’ve got some competition!

I will leave you with this tid bit of wisdom:

There once was a man from Rangoon
Whose farts could be heard on the moon
When you’d least expect ’em
They’d burst from his rectum
With the force of a raging typhoon!!

Find more fart ryhmes, riddles, and worplay here.

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