Men are Assholes

The longest relationship I have had was 6.5 years. He was a loud mouthed rugby head and was loads of fun.  We met through a mutual friend and would party together every weekend.  After about three months of friendship we went on our first date and after six months, we moved in together.

This man, who I call my ‘significant ex’, had me hooked on him and therefore knew he could reveal his real asshole self with no significant repercussions.  I would be innocently watching TV, reading a book, eating dinner or just doing any activity that put my face approximately at ass level. My significant ex would walk past me all preoccupied and innocent looking.  Just at the right moment he’d tip his ass towards my face and would let rip a massive fart square in my face.  It would literally make my hair blow in his wind.  It would happen so quickly and unexpectedly, there was never anything I could do, except completely ignore the occurrence as if I didn’t notice a thing.

After about a year of enduring this behaviour, ‘The Day of Glory’ happened upon me… Now, listen closely ladies – What I am saying is that I have the answer on how to stop this behaviour.  I know, I know, I know – you think it’s impossible. You’ve tried crying and saying how much it upsets you.  You’ve tried yelling and saying you’ll leave.  You’ve even tried leaving, haven’t you?  These tactics don’t work.  At the end of the day, it’s funny as hell – to him, to his friends, and to your friends.  If you leave, you’ll just be single and isolated.  When you try to talk to your friends about how much of an asshole your man was, and you think you deserve better than him, they will just nod sympathetically and wish you luck in finding a ‘decent man’.

The Day of Glory came when my significant ex and I were living in Melbourne.  We were play fighting on our bed.  He was lying on his back and being all tickly and playful.  I slid on top of him and was being all cute and tickly back. After pretending to kiss him and then playfully pulling away, I swung around so his head was level with my ass – this was a very valuable position to be in.  To his detriment, he had forgotten his own ‘ass/head’ rule.  This was the first time since we met, that I had ever been able to have the ‘ass/head’ power.

He was shaking his head side to side and growling like a little puppy. I did a little wiggle back which made him open his mouth and growl louder, as though he was a puppy wanting to play tug of war.  It was at this very moment that I filled hot air, straight from the inside of my butter chicken filled intestine, into his mouth, nostrils and down his throat.  The shock of the situation and the weight of my body meant he was pinned down for a good 10 seconds before his arms and legs started flailing.

He never farted in my face again.

I believe the reason men dutch oven, waft, fart in faces and wind the window up after farting in the car, is because they themselves really like the smell.  They want their loved ones to be a part of their happy memory making. They want everyone to sit amongst the glorious stench, breath it in and make comments on it.

I think this noteworthy phenomenon is due to survival behaviours straight out of the Stone Age.  When men were out hunting, they would be in groups and they would cover their entire bodies with mammoth shit to hide their odour from the prey they were hunting.  All they did all day was wait for hours with their mates.  Once their pray walked into their trap, they would jump from their hiding place and make their kill. Killing the animal would take a matter of minutes

On returning to their cave, their women would see them walking in from the horizon with a massive sabre toothed lion slung over their shoulders. The women would be so very excited of this sight as it meant they wouldn’t be getting clubbed over the head and wake up pregnant.  The women were exhausted from gathering, tending to the children, making the fire, cooking food, making clothes, tools and housing structures, and performing surgery on their birthing women and elderly men. Even so, they would rush towards the men with arms out wide.  They would tell them they are so strong and brave and oooh you smell like a real man!  Come to my hearth and lay with me by the fire.

Happiest day of a man’s life: sitting around all day with their mates, smelling like shit, killing an animal, coming home to a cave all warm and comfortable and then getting laid.

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