Running Makes Me Have to Fart

Good Afternoon Poppets,

I thought I would change it up by blogging in the afternoon. I just spent three hours of my life swimming in the mess that is my room. And let me just tell you...after going through all my clothes, I am extremely surprised that I EVER had friends. We'll just say I found platform shoes, a "Mommy's Favorite Girl" shirt, and a belt that looked like it could have been seen as a prop on the Jerry Springer show I watched yesterday.

But this morning, mother, father, Jenny (the girl who knows why men have nipples), and I went to the YMCA for a morning workout. Brother, Eric, slept on the couch in our dining room that now smells like fish guts, vicks vapor rub, and Cheetos because he is an asthmatic fisherman who loves to eat, and he has taken over the room. So mother and I treadmilled while fater and Jen swam. Let's just talk about fathers in bathing suits really quick. It's quite traumatic when your dad has bigger boobs than you, but you have longer hair on your legs (I had a really busy week okay?)

Anyways, I realized the only awful thing about running today. Running makes me have to fart. And they aren't nice "2 seconds of stink" farts...o no...they are "linger til your eyes water" farts. They aren't a problem when I am solo, but there are usually people there. So I have developed a concept that I am trying to patent. It's called "The Art of Farting While on the Tread Mill." The first, and possibly most important, step is to find a tread mill beside someone who looks like they could be a stinky farter. That way everyone around you will think it's them. I chose the old man who sweats like a banshee. Secondly, make sure you remove your head phones or turn down your IPod when releasing the gas. Farting conspicuously is difficult when people can hear it...so make sure you don't RIP it when you can't hear whether it is loud. And thirdly, once the stinky fart has permeated the air, scrunch up your nose a little and kind of look around like you want to know who did it (just make sure you don't fall off the tread mill...I learned the hard way that this is the hardest step to master.) If you look like you want to know who did it, the little old woman on the stationary bike behind you will assume the stinky old man beside you is the one who made the weight room smell like a rotten pizza buffet in a nursing home bathroom. I believe I have mastered this skill, but now that I have revealed my secrets...I guess everyone knows I'm the stinky one...so if you work out at the YMCA and it's really stinky and I'm there...YES..IT WAS ME..woooh..now I feel so much better.

Well everyone...it's time for dinner...well almost...peanut butter and banana sandwich and a sweet potato..YUMMM

Keep Letting It Be,
Em