Friday, October 12, 2007
Great Balls of Blue Fire!
Everyone has a fart story. One of these days, I will get off of my procrastinatin' butt and go around asking for people's fart stories so that I can get it published as a compilation (one of my "better" get-rich-quick schemes, I'm sorry to say).
I used to think that lighting your passed gas on fire was just a myth, one of those urban legends or something. Chris G. proved that it was true, in the boys' dressing room of the theme park gig we were working, in Japan.
He offered to demonstrate for us, which in itself was funny to the other male dancers, so we were already laughing. He may have thought our laughter meant that we weren't taking him seriously. He changed into his spandex swimsuit briefs, "because, you know, you can accidentally burn skin and/or hair while setting your flatulence a-flame," as Chris had previously learned, the hard way.
Chris grabbed a book of matches from our bathroom and sat himself down on the floor, trying to balance himself in an awkward sitting position with his legs in the air, and with his hands free to strike a match. Our dressing room had no windows, so with the door shut and the lights turned out, it was pitch black. We waited in the dark, anticipating the assault to both ears and nostrils.
Unexpectedly, blue flames flared up in the pitch black, near the floor. The flames were freakin' blue. We all lost it, completely, tears streaming from our eyes and stomachs cramping up from laughing too hard. So, this is what was meant by "LMAO ROTF" (I had to have that explained to me, this year).
If you ever need an honest-to-goodness gut-wrenching laugh, especially to help cure the blues, get a willing friend to light her or his flatulence ablaze--bathing suit, optional.
Everyone has a fart story. What's your fart story?