I blame the new anti-smoking laws introduced into bars and clubs by the Victorian Government earlier this year. Underneath the thick blanket of tobacco and hash smoke, the highly stomach churning fumes emitted from between the cheeks used to be covered up and remained undetected. But now, this is no longer the case and we’re all victims of copping a slap to the face when someone decides to lay a wind loaf.
Now of course, I am not some prude who says they never fart because I do but there are some limits as to when and where you can sing the anal anthem such as in bed with your partner while playing Dutch ovens. Everyone likes their own brand and coupled with the human instinct of curiosity, one is always interested in their own quality. But there are limits!
One guy I know loves letting one rip and doesn’t necessarily care where he drops them much to our detriment. Unluckily for us he considers a club the best place to drop them in multiple, quick succession. And it couldn’t be anymore disturbing as we are dancing on a packed dancefloor when suddenly one of us senses the free floating anal vapor. Our noses will twitch, we’ll turn away or casually dance off to another area as quickly as possible. All the while he will continue to dance as if nothing happened. And since July, this has been far more evident since the cloud of smoke no longer exists to cover it up.
And it doesn’t stop there. He’ll let rip at least 30 times over the course of a night. Not so much fun when you’re trying to enjoy yourself, cruise the cute boy to your left in a packed club. You might be seen by others as the one who played the trouser tuba… not a good look!
Although a few of us have said something to him immediately after, he finds the situation hilarious with his rip roaring laughter which most likely will be followed up with another stink burger. Unfortunately he doesn’t realise that it is quite off-putting and not as funny as he thinks it is. I think as much as we will tell him that it is not acceptable and we are not at that level of friendship, he will continue to burn rubber in front of us while out. Great.
But club crop dusting seems to be prevalent as this weekend I was in one of Melbourne’s busiest, most popular and largest nightclubs, CQ, dancing to the retro hits of the 80’s with some friends when I smelt a couple of F-Bombs wafting over our way from a tall, lanky guy in business gear. He cut the cheese so damned fast no one had time to prepare for it. But it didn’t stop, he let rip with a couple more which my friends noticed and our faces reacted in a spasmodic twitch it was as if we’d been hit with Agent Orange.
So I guess since these new anti-smoking laws have come into effect, we will all now be susceptible to high toxic turd honking from people who not only love their own brand, but want to swathe in it whenever they’re out. Military gas masks look to sell out! Get ‘em while they’re in stock!