mynutsitch.com

Seriously.

Normally it isn’t like this.

Today my farts smelled like waffles.  The homemade kind, not the factory-assembled frozen ones.  With a hint of butter and even, occasionally, a lingering nuttiness as if I had forgone the traditional syrup and instead boldly chosen to accompany them with peanut butter or perhaps even Nutella.

You may be saying to yourself “Well damn dude…that actually sounds quite pleasant!”….and you’d be entirely correct if the particular waffles in question didn’t have the distinct aroma of a heaping helping of creamy poo topping.  But they do.  Or at least they would if the poo-waffle scent actually originated from actual waffles.

I haven’t eaten waffles in weeks, which is why I’m so puzzled.

Why is this a blogworthy issue?

Because I’m on “vacation” this week and so far have pretty much stayed at home.  I ended up canceling my trip to Texas for various reasons and, as a result, I am now left with 2 choices:

1. Leave my apartment nearly sealed and bathe in the glory of my asswaffles.

2. Open a window, unleashing the wondrous aromas on the unsuspecting world outside.

Now, like most people I have no issues with appreciating the products of my own ass.  It’s gross when other people do it, but mine are fucking fantastic.  The problem lies in the fact that I’m actually starting to get a little tired of this particular bouquet that I have managed to manufacture.  It keeps making me hungry for waffles, and quite frankly it’s starting to piss me off.  I love waffles and I’m afraid that my waffle obsession may become degraded over time if I continue to be exposed to these levels of wafflerific aromas, possibly even to the point of *gasp* disliking waffles altogether.

Even more troubling is that, if this continues for much longer, I am beginning to fear that the myriad of porous surfaces within these walls (and possibly including the actual walls themselves) will start to actually store the odors that I am producing, resulting in some sort of horrific omnipresent time-release air freshener from hell that could last far beyond the capabilities of my own body to produce this particular scent.

Opening a window would likely reduce the chances of that happening, as well as probably providing me (and my brain) some obviously much-needed oxygen.  The issue is that once the asswaffle cloud begins to escape, there is a very good chance that it will viciously attack the nostrils of anyone who happens to be nearby.  Namely my neighbors.

I don’t need anyone thinking I decided to whip up a batch of delicious waffles and then, so dismayed by discovering that I have no suitable toppings within my cupboards, I could only drop my trousers and hop up on the kitchen counter, squatting over a bowl and calmly squeeze out a creamy, soft-serve-ice-cream-like swirl of assy goodness, only to gleefully grab a butter knife and spread it seductively all over my fresh, buttery waffles.

It’s not like I have much of a reputation to protect, but I really don’t need people thinking that.  They might stop smiling and waving at me, afraid that I may return the wave and flash a literal shit-eating grin.

Also, the potential for hungry, unwanted wildlife to begin converging on my apartment complex is somewhat disturbing.

Now, if I were not taking a “vacation” and were at work this week it would not be a problem.  My place of employment actually has entire rooms designed to take care of even the nastiest anal blasts that may sneak up on you during working hours!

This is how it works:

There are rows upon rows of these filtration racks, and the air is forced up through the ventilated floor, whisked through the racks and heated up, and therefore rises up through the vented ceiling out of harm’s way.

Just like this:

I think that the units within the racks also double as some sort of computing equipment as well, so it’s actually a model of extreme efficiency.  They run practically our entire company using those boxes in addition to quickly evacuating offensive odors from our immediate surroundings.

But alas I am at home, where I have no ventilated floors and rather poor air circulation by comparison.

Due to my recent rash of medical issues, it does make me wonder if I have some sort of rare medical condition.  I decided to investigate, but sadly WebMD was not useful.

That’s totally useless advice for me, since I haven’t shoved any waffles up my ass for at least a few weeks now and I’m nearly positive I got them all out.

So here I sit, waffling back and forth between the possible solutions to my little debacle here.  Any suggestions?

Hey…at least I didn’t climb on an airplane.  I’m pretty sure this could have become a drastically more serious situation at 30,000 feet.  Hell, I could be facing terrorism charges right now.