My dad is a Fartist. He is a fart artist. The force is stronger with my brother but it all began with my dad. Saturday we were watching basketball at the Breslin Center. I asked if he needed anything. Just some way of removing all the gas from his ass. I said dad "just walk up to the concourse and walk back down... Do some crop dusting." He is 77 so he may not have been in a fart trusting mood.

I posted this to my Facebook Saturday. It's been awhile since I laughed this hard. Even my dad was tearing up at some of the responses.

(You may have to log on to Facebook and click the comments section to see all the gold, Jerry!)

When you sit at a venue all day, eating hot dogs and ice cream sandwiches, by the end of the day it feels like you are setting on a roll of quarters. When everyone gets up from sitting all day. It's a regular FARTFEST. There is a cloud when you leave.


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