MARRIAGE STINKS
The Unconscious Farting Virtuoso That is my Wife
And I, the maestro, will bring it to the world!
My wife farted so loudly in her sleep last night that I was both shocked and jealous.
The decibel level of this eruption dwarfed any previous gaseous outburst I’ve ever generated. Moreover, it had character and depth to it. There was much more going on than a simple expulsion of gas, but the hint of something substantial serving as the foundation — an inspiring stimulus of solid, or perhaps semi-solid, formulation roiling beneath, and within, the flatulous tones.
It sounded like a marching band with food poisoning falling down a flight of stairs.
I’ve found a new muse!
I’ve decided to capitalize on my wife’s new-found talent by sneaking an audio recorder into bed. With some skillful auto-tuning, I’m confident my wife’s farts can be made even more melodious and will appeal to a wide range of music lovers, both sophisticated in-ear like Bach fans and excruciatingly unrefined in-ear like Justin Bieber fans.
Work on my first opus has already begun.
It will either be called “Upon the Fields Doth the Vapors Gust” or “The Tooting…
