Fart is related with art and I think it’s the shortcut for FABULOUS ART = F-ART.
To fart is not only a humanoid or carnivore topic, its also wellknown in the feline world (Morris, the cat of mom’s auntie can depopulate a room in zilch, when he had a bird for lunch. He is weird and eats the whole equipment). Also marine animals fart, that’s the reason for the bubbles in the water.
So farts are common for any forms of life. I’m a fartist and yesterday I had my great gig. Due to the cold temperatures I refused to manure my back yard, because my exhaust system was frozen. Many cardrivers know this problem, that’s the autoturnaround of Panta Rhei and I had a lot of backfires. My whole crib was an epedemic area and my mom pondered about gas masks for eventual visitors. She also removed the batteries of the doorbell, because she is selfish and wouldn’t share the scent of beef, green beans and carrots with their neighbors.
Beginners and puppys most fire their rear-torpedos as the whim takes them. And mostly they get caught in the act because they make noises like Pfffrrrzzzt! and Prooot!
Fartists like me use a silencer, so the noise is just like a Pffffffffft! or a Sssssst! and no one knows who is the culprit. In the evening I was under dad’s blanket as I noticed that something wants to leave the Weimaraner. I used my silencer and with a inaudible Pfffff! the torpedo was fired off.
I immediately left the crime scene and searched for asylum under mom’s blanket. Unfortunately my quick escape lifted the blanket a little and some of the chemical warfare agents were distributed. My dad who just opened a can with peanuts said: I think something is wrong with this nuts, they smell rotten. He offered the can to my mom that she should take a sniff on the nuts and thereby he lifted the blanket totally. The stank was overwhelming and even me covered my nose with my paws and I followed my mom as she opened the window to reanimate her nose and her lungs.
Back to life she called my dad a skunk and said the only rotten thing in the room is him and not the nuts.
He tried to start a counter offensive, but it was too late and this war was beyound recovery. He got caught red-butted, because the root of evil was on his side of the bed, so resistance was futile… or fartile?
Till 5am I set the bedroom on fire, than the eruptions in my 7 stomachs became a vulcanic outburst and I placed the beef, the beans and the carrots in my back yard. Today in the morning they were frozen and looked like the Mount Blanc…but that’s another kind of art, called “clay” modelling…
HAVE AN ARTY 2ND OF ADVENT ALL