Don’t Fart Under The Covers

I have to admit recently my farts have been smelling absolutely horrendous, and that’s coming from the guy who brewed them himself. I never noticed they were smelling so bad until one night I tried to roll over and go to sleep and was smacked in the face with a wave of all my bodily exhaust vapors and poop particles. It disgusted me, for a moment… Then I realized how bad it truly was, easily one of my stinkiest ones ever, and quickly grew fond of it. Basking in my own ambiance saying, “Everyone loves their own brand.” like Fat Bastard from Austin Powers. “Wafting, Wafting, Wafting”

Before I fell asleep that night peacefully and proud with my head in my pillows I made sure to breath it all in before it was gone. That night I had one of the weirdest dreams I’ve ever had. After admiring until I fell asleep, I then spent the night dreaming about it like that episode of Spongebob like it was some sort of green gas lingering oozing out of me and all around town. It was wild but it nauseated and disgusted me.

I woke up the next morning still smiling and dignified still adoring my fart from the night before. When I got out of bed and walked to my bathroom that morning, I didn’t recognize the man I saw in the mirror. My fart was so bad last night it gave me two pink eyes and designated part of my eyebrows… Not one but both of my eyes looked like I spent the night sleeping on a pillow made entirely of fart gases. My eyebrows I hide and fix with a sharpie but there was no hiding two pink eyes. I didn’t know what to do, I started splashing water on my eyes, I put soap in my eyes, hand cream, hoping that something would help it subside knowing damn well none of it would work. I gave myself pink eyes.

I haven’t farted under the covers since. I’ve been sleeping on my side now with my ass hanging out from under the sheets. It’s only precautionary, just in case I ever fart in the middle of the night I want to make sure that I can push it as far away from me as possible. I became scared of my own ass. I wouldn’t fart unless I had somewhere to push it. I even stopped farting on all the chairs in my apartment and in the car because I knew what they could do. I didn’t want to feel their wrath ever again. I thought that every time I scratched my butt, even over my pants, or accidentally brushed my hand on my chair and touched my face I would give myself pink eyes again. I’ve started washing my hands more now than when this whole pandemic thing started. I stopped keeping my wallet and my phone in my back pocket because I was scared to touch them or raise it to my face to answer phone calls. I was mortified that it would be close enough to give me pink eyes again.

I have this new found phobia of accidentally giving myself pink eye… again. My hands are constantly down my pants itching my balls or scratching my ass and I had to stop. Now I can’t do any of that without making my worst nightmare come true, waking up with pink eye… from myself. Having pink eyes is embarrassing enough, now imagine giving it to yourself. I used all my PTO and sick days until they went away.

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