This page best viewed with

A Book By CM. Click To Get A Copy

OnePlusYou Quizzes and Widgets
Created by OnePlusYou

No Rights Reserved. Take Anything You Want, But If You Steal Any Text Link To Here.

Send Your Hate Mail To


Sloth:Very High

Take the Seven Deadly Sins Quiz

King Gambrinus - Patron Saint of beer.

Friday, December 08, 2006


Yesterday we all learned about the ideal gas law, and what it means to your intestines. So today I would like to start off with a little 100% true story.

It was the summer of 2004. I was hanging out with a friend of mine who had traveled to many places (London, Prague, Dresden, Berlin, Vienna, Salzburg, and so on). Anyway, in conversation it was revealed that she had never gone to Las Vegas. Well shit, I had gone there once! So here was someone who had gone overseas to all sorts of exotic places, but had never gone to Las Vegas?

You can probably see where this is going. On an impulse we booked a non-stop flight from MIA to LAS and scored a room at the Tropicana for a few days.

On travel day we got a ride to the airport, did the self check-in thing for American Airlines (nobody had bags to check), and got beyond security. When the boarding announcement was made, I was ready to get on that plane. I knew it was going to directly to Vegas.

It was in the loading bridge that I knew I was in trouble. You see, I am fully aware that Miami is at sea level. Not that I am complaining about being near sea level, it makes it easy to get my boat to the bay! Perks are where you find them. I also knew that the aircraft was going to have a cabin pressure lower than sea level. I know about the relationship between pressure and gas volume. And I knew I had to let one rip. And it was going to be foul. I could feel bubbling and churning and stuff. Yes, this was going to be a gas terror attack.

Thoughts of molecules bouncing around filled my head. All the chemistry classes I had taken were thrown into active memory, in vivid detail. I knew what had to be done. I made a plan.

So here is the situation. I am in the loading bridge. Let one rip here and there is a very high
chance I will get busted. And the people who would be exposed to the foulness would be the same people I had to spend the next 4 or 5 hours with. So I could not let it out just yet. It would be rude.

But I knew I had to do something before the plane reached flight level pressure. I know this happens rather quickly after the door shuts. And I knew I had to get rid of the gas before I got to my seat, because I was going to have to remain there for several hours. I did not want people around me giving me "the look" for the entire flight.

There was only one thing to do. I was flying coach class. I was one of the last to board the aircraft. I had to walk through the first class section. Here were all these people, in the larger seats, with their hot towels, looking all smug and crap. Like they were better than me or something. It was like they were thinking "I wish all these schleppers would get to the back of the plane where they belong and stop breathing my first class air!".

Well that was it! Ill show you first class air you elitist hot towel using thinking you are better than the people sitting right behind a crappy cheap curtain S.O.B.!

I released my gas attack right there in first class. Either by luck or skill, it was a "silent but violent" variety. I started about 1/2 way through the first class section, and was done by the time got to the curtain thing. As I passed the point that divides first class from coach class, the flight attendant sealed off first class with the curtain - trapping the gas behind me. Oh yea, it was vile. I caught a whiff, and it was not good.

Nobody I had to sit with knew what I had done. As for the people in first class - who cares! I did not have to sit with them. And they exit the aircraft first, so I had better odds of winning big at a slot machine than I had of running into them ever again. And even if I did encounter them in Vegas, would they remember me? Would I remember them?

No. No chance at all.

And if by chance you were on that afternoon non-stop American Airlines flight from Miami to Las Vegas that left gate E-6 on July 2nd or 3rd 2004 - how did you like that first class air? The air in the coach cabin was minty fresh and quite nice.


Blogger Ed Abbey said...

Up here, we call that approach laying landmines. It is also very effective in grocery store situations before you have to stand in the check out lines. I usually prefer to mine the healthfood section.

Blogger The Lazy Iguana said...

I reserve the term "land mines" for dog poop in the yard.

Blogger Fuzz said...

This sounds like some of that stinkin' "class warfare".

Remember, "It's better to fart and suffer shame,
Than never to fart and suffer pain."

Blogger The Lazy Iguana said...

Man is powerless in the face of the primal raw power of nature.

It was either let it out or explode. And explosions on an aircraft are a HUGE NO-NO!!

Anonymous Anonymous said...

The perfect Crime!

Anonymous Anonymous said...

You are like Robin Hood...stealing farts from the poor and giving them to the rich.

Blogger The Lazy Iguana said...

The Republican Robin Hood. I steal from the poor and give to the rich. I like it.

Anonymous Bush Farts said...

EL OH EL. good job.

Anonymous Anonymous said...

The only thing that equals a good fart story is a good poop story. If you haven't been to, it is a must in intellectual, highbrow reading!


Post a Comment

<< Home