Tag Archives: women

The joys of wind and women….

The joy of offending

It is fair to say that few very few things have the capacity to impact on an individuals’ status more than a fart.

Sometimes this can be a good thing. After all, if one is in the company of a group of lads out on the lash the ability to let one go -especially if accompanied by an odour with the capacity to strip wallpaper- can quickly elevate you to legendary status.

In most other social settings however, it is not a quality to be admired and therefore it is vital that farting etiquette is both understood and observed.

However, before we dive into the ‘do’s, don’ts and how to’s’ we should examine just why the two sexes react so differently to flatulence because it is fundamental to pretty much every aspect of this section if not the entire book.

As I have already stated, I love farting and to be honest, so does pretty much every male I know. There is nothing quite like the feeling of brewing up and the satisfaction of letting one go is frankly, unrivalled.

In fact, given that the vast majority if not all of people reading this book will be male and will be doing so because they too have an appreciation of the anal art form, do I really need to spend time explaining why we love it? After all, you will already know pretty much everything I can ever say or write if not a great deal more!

Women however, are a different beast entirely and if ever there was a subject that confirms the belief that we are indeed from two different planets, it is the subject of farting.

Or does it?

After all, women fart. I know that might come as a shock to some of you but they do. All of them. That gas has to be removed somehow and it’s certainly not taken away in the dead of night by fairies using Tupperware pots. Therefore it stands to reason that it is ejected in one of only two ways, one of which is fart form. And occasionally they smell. Not like Pot Pourri either.

Yet generally speaking, the vast majority of the gentler sex would have us men believe that they regard farting as nothing more than a basic bodily function and a disgusting one at that. Yes, I am well aware that there are exceptions to this and I know a couple of females who are more than capable of clearing a

Fart on mens faces for money
The stuff of nightmares!

room if the mood takes them. Furthermore, as the father of two daughters I am also well aware that in private there are plenty of women who enjoy a good gruff just as much as most men even though they might feign embarrassment if overheard or one slips out by accident. So why do the so-called gentler sex seem to have such a problem understanding why we males are able to derive such humour from farting?

Well to me, the answer to that question is fairly obvious when you think about it. It’s because we enjoy it.

Yes, that’s right. It might come as something of a shock to discover that women don’t actually like men to have fun doing something which doesn’t involve them. Why else do you think so many of them have started tagging along to football? It’s not because they enjoy it, it’s because they want to make sure we don’t!

However, since unlike football, farting is an activity that we can enjoy on our own they are forced to try and discourage us from partaking by brainwashing us. A tactic they do by repeatedly telling us from very early on in our lives that we only do it because we aren’t clever enough to find humour in anything else or that it is ‘disgusting’. It’s bog standard word association hypnosis: Oven = hot = burn, road = traffic = death, fart = bad =stroppy woman.

But the primary tool employed by women as a brainwashing tool to discourage the enjoyment of anal activity is the suggestion that it is childish. The key weapon used here is the phrase ‘grow up’.

This expression is important for many reasons and it is vital that all men understand why. Because it is fundamental to the acknowledged truth that when a woman gets her claws into a man, her primary goal is to mould him into the ‘man’ she actually desired as opposed to the one she ended up with. Central to this is the modification of his behaviour and the separation from both his past and especially his mates. Hence the concerted efforts to discourage any behaviour which might be perceived as being either ‘childish’ or ‘blokey’.

The sad fact is that it is women who are missing out. Not just because a happy bloke is obviously going to be far more fun to be around than an empty shell of a ‘new man’ but because they are unable to enjoy one of the natural wonders of life.

Indeed, it is my belief that women are secretly jealous of us in our love of the anal art form but having backed themselves into a corner, they dare not admit it because that would mean admitting that they have been wrong all along. And we all know what a problem that is for women.

Ironically, they had the perfect opportunity to do just that when the so-called ‘Ladette’ culture took hold back in the 90’s. For that period in our great nations history provided the female with the ideal point to embrace what I regard as being quite possibly the greatest of all human habits.

Yet instead, they blew it. Preferring instead to adopt the delights of getting shit faced, swearing in public and thinking shagging anything that moved was a good idea. All things which they had spent decades slagging us off for and which most blokes eventually grow out of anyway!

And so when it comes to women and farting, we are where we are and it is unlikely that things will ever change at least where they are concerned. However, the fact of the matter is that it is not our fault, it is theirs. They after all are the ones missing out because there is nothing wrong with enjoying farting. It should be celebrated as a sign of confidence but above all, of honesty. If you take nothing else from this book, take that simple truth because it will change your life.

After all, as the legendary rapper P. Diddy once said, “you can’t trust a woman until she farts in front of you” and that says it all.

 

fart sex love anal "bodily functions"
The Art of Fart - Bargain!

 

The above was a full extract from my latest book The Art of Fart which is available to download for just £1.14 at http://www.amazon.co.uk/Art-Fart-Joy-Flatulence-ebook/dp/B006MISNFI/ or $1.81 at http://www.amazon.com/Art-Fart-Joy-Flatulence-ebook/dp/B006MISNFI/

It is also available via iTunes and all online retailers.

Dougie Brimson – The New Gok Wan?

Mutton dressed as er... mutton

In every list or article written by a male about relationships with the opposite sex, there is one issue which will inevitably receive a mention. It is best described as entrapment.

I don’t mean entrapment in the sense of her trying to find out if you’re having an affair or have actually been out with your mates when you’ve told her you’re at work, I’m talking the really serious stuff. Primarily the stuff about HER! Those questions which are designed to trap you into saying the wrong thing and attracting trouble. The most dangerous of which is the dreaded ‘how does this look?’

Now any bloke with half a brain knows that if a woman asks that question, it doesn’t matter what he responds because it will inevitably be wrong. If we pay a compliment it’s ‘you’re only saying that’ and if we say anything negative…. well, best not to do that anyway. And even if it isn’t wrong at that moment in time, it will almost certainly be wrong later on at which point you will get the blame because ‘you should have said something’.

Worst of all is when this question is posed when we’ve been ‘taken’ shopping.  Never mind the fact that most men hate shopping with a passion and being dragged around the underwear department of Marks & Spencers is the single most evil thing a woman can inflict on her man, our reluctance to show any desire to provide comment on anything from ball gowns to handbags means we are considered either useless or boring or both. All of which adds to the ‘fun’ of course. 

I mention this here because the other day, whilst mulling over what would constitute my perfect job, I finally came up with the answer. You see I actually quite like wandering around shopping malls (it’s a people watching thing) and I certainly like women so it seemed reasonable to think of a way to combine the two activities. So in short, I’d like to be employed as the bloke who passes impartial and honest comment on what women are either trying on or already wearing.

Don’t get me wrong, I am not nor ever could be considered, fashionable. I wear clothes which do not suit me, have a body profile which defies any description other than lardy and am as far removed from Gok Wan as it is humanly possible to get (and on that note, if you want to spend all your life dressing women and acting like a woman, why not just get a bloody sex change and have done with it?) but I do have three things going for me. I am a bloke, I know what looks good on women and just as importantly, I know what doesn’t.

Kill me please.

And having sat outside more changing rooms than I care to recall and watched a succession of fashion disasters appear only be told by their long-suffering and bored shitless partners that they look fabulous, would it not be better to have an honest opinion from an impartial male on tap? After all, wouldn’t a woman rather be told that she looks like a pig wrapped in some old pub curtains before she goes to that wedding as opposed to realising it herself when she receives the photo’s afterwards?

But equally, I’d like to be able to tell a woman that she looks beyond awesome. Indeed, I’d encourage any bloke to do that once in a while anyway. I have and trust me, you have no idea of the impact paying a random comment can have, especially at 08.45 on the Piccadilly Line.

The other attraction is that I’d also be able to walk up to a woman and tell that at 50 plus, she shouldn’t have pink hair or a nose piercing because they make her look slightly sad or tell that 25 year-old that men don’t actually find the sight of an exposed KFC fuelled muffin-top particularly attractive.

The more I think about it, the more I think that I’m definitely onto something here. After all, if honesty really is the best policy, let’s apply it where it is most needed, at the proverbial coal face. But equally, think how many cold and frosty nights I could save for my fellow males?

Anyone got a number for John Lewis?