In my family, we prayed a lot and we had a lot of gas. We had a living room rule that we were to go to the door and fart into the dining room, so as not to choke out the family while watching TV. We usually made a production of it, cribbing the door frame and forcing one out with a nice long rip. Always so satisfying!! Almost as good as those loud farts that wake you from your sleep (wink).
I also used my gas as a weapon. My standard operating procedure for winning a fight was to pin my opponent down, namely one of my siblings, by placing my knees along their rib cage, with my large ass in my cordory rubbed bare at the thigh navy blue uniform right on their faces; arms on their legs so they couldn't kick up and I would force one out! They were best when I was on my dairy kick and I had real warm smelly farts that would make the paint weep.
One of my all time favorite moments was my 7th grade year. I had Sister Catherine, the year before she became a Mother, we were gathered in the corner west facing classroom on the top floor... Incredible view! We were listening to Bill Cosby tell the story of Noah. We were all squeezed so tight around the record player, just laughing so much at how awesome his telling of the story was. He made it very enjoyable. I was kneeling on my chair, like a good praying boy, but my elbows were on my desk so my ass was up in the air, poised for a great sound off. We had had chili that day at lunch and I had felt a gas bubble building and I really wanted to go to the hall and fart in my locker, but the story was TOO funny to leave so I kept holding my little rosebud tighter and tighter.... My laughing and nervousness about having to fart was making my cheeks all red, my feathered-parted-down-the-middle hair stick to my face, my bucked tooth cackle quiver and my rosebud weaken.... Out of the depths of my ass came THE LOUDEST AND LONGEST FART I HAD EVER HEARD!!!! It seriously went on and on and my laughing made it worse and caused me to snap a few more out. Everyone was in laughter! Well, not Sister Catherine. She lifts the needle off of the record, grabs me by my ear (I'm not joking) and yanked me into the hall. While out there she leaned into me, her breath smelling stale and like face powder, her faint mustache quivering above her angry tight lips as she told me how sinful I had been to fart like that in public. She reminded me that I am a terrible young man and that I always fail at being a positive role model. I'd heard it all before, since kindergarten really. My punishment was that I had to move my desk to be right next to hers in class and I had to sit on the floor next to her log when we were on the carpet for other studies and singing practice. I was by her side for weeks. It began to feel so natural being at her side, observing the class from that point of view. I kind of liked it.
Anyway(ssssss), one day, while we were sitting on the carpet practicing 'Prepare Ye the Way' for mass; I'm seated at Sister Catherine's left, couldn't be her right because that is reserved for God, and out of the corner of my eye I notice her oh so gingerly lift her left cheek off of her stump and she let out a silent but deadly one on me!!!! I looked at my friend, Kim, sitting to my left to see if she caught what had just happened and there was no avoiding it because you could smell it! I giggled, made a little scene and she blamed it on me! Sent me to the hall! That was that, all farts would always be blamed on me since I had so publicly displayed my skills.
It got me nervous. I didn't want to be known as the farter, chub rub Davis was bad enough ( it's because my big chubby thighs rubbed together and made a great sound with the cords I wore for my uniform.) I asked one of the girls in my neighborhood how she controlled her farts. She told me that her mom made her wear a cork up her butt to hold them in. I just knew a fart could never hold mine in! I had force, just ask anyone.
A few years later, the year in 1987, I'm in my first yoga class at good ol CCC, Harvard on the Hill; we are doing cat/cow and an older lady next to me totally farts, ripping nice and loud in the gym. I started giggling so bad I had to leave the room. Namaste.
As a gay man, I can't keep my hole tight enough to keep those farts away from potential dates. I will never forget the morning after my first time of being with a man.... I was sitting on the futon visiting with two of my girlfriends, smoking cigarettes and laughing at how fun the party had been and they wanted details because I had had my tongue down some guys throat all night. We were all laughter and good times and my laughter couldn't keep my sore hole closed and out came the loudest and wettest ky fart EVER. I was so humiliated, and yet, it is one of my favorite stories to tell. It is a great ice breaker... Which always leads to deal breaker. No wonder I can't get a date!
From that moment on, I lived in fear of my farts. Sleeping over with a fella was never relaxing, can't relax I may fart. It's my special spot, nothing nasty can come out of it! I'm perfect! NOT! During the night I would just edge my ass off the side and lift the covers to prevent a Dutch oven effect and pray for it to be silent on the way out.
Silly really. We all fart. I always found such pleasure in them . I still do while I'm driving or in bed or in the shower. I have a circle of friends that I am comfortable farting around. I don't use it as a weapon any more. However, in 1997, I took over my dad's former job at Star, although I could never replace Mister D, I went as Mister Marco, and he told me one of his favorite things to do was to walk through groups of kids gathered in the halls and leave a silent one and watch them fight over who just farted. I learned from the best.
It may be considered a filthy thing, but farting has always been something that makes me happy. I don't think it is a sin. I don't think it should make me undatable. In 2006, I choreographed an entire dance based on farting and the actions and reactions farting may cause. I do not sniff my own farts or think I'm smug from the act of farting. I just think it is natural, I'm going to own it when I drop it and I will, probably, always giggle on the inside when it does happen. I'm for sure not going to hell for farting! 
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