Tuesday, September 05, 2006

Turlit Delusions

This woman did not fart within her lifetime. It is also unlikely that she ever had a bowel movement. She did not secrete noxious bodily fluids of any type, ever. The cultural phenomenon responsible for this oddity is alive and well today, though thankfully not in my neighborhood.

Year: 1979 (Final year of High School)
Place: Evening shift at the brass factory.
Event: Mandatory shift meeting.
First item on agenda: Shift manager announces that the people (yes, plural) responsible for plugging the sinks in the women's restroom and then filling them with urine will be terminated when caught.
Crowd Reaction: Randomly dispersed high-pitched giggling.

From the beginning, the “purity of womanhood” myth was aggressively instilled in my southern Christian psyche. We were expected to carry this myth to our grave. Southern women were expected to reinforce the myth by never providing evidence that any bodily function had ever originated from their person, ever!

The thought of a female being dry-docked and scraped for barnacles was not only subversive, it was preposterous. The image of a female lifting a cheek would never cross the mind of a southern gentleman because it simply didn’t happen.
In an unquestioned act of faith, I accepted the premise that those angels of purity could somehow complete their biological functions without splatter, gaseous emission or any of the dangers associated with the use of wood-pulp based “cleaning” supplies. As I grew older, logic indicated a more realistic approach. While the concept of the immaculate “evacuation” required occasional revision, I foresaw no event that might pose a serious threat to this tradition. The spiritual separation between those hallowed givers-of-life and the undesirable byproducts of life would endure. Now here I was, confronted with disturbing evidence to the contrary.

Years before, I had watched Santa’s sleigh go down in flames. I was not concerned. The Easter bunny laid its last egg. I could not have cared less. My parents rutting like farm animals? That was a tough one but I got over it pretty quick. One by one those ridiculous cultural oddities fell, including the myths of divine benevolence and the trust between father and son. A short sermon, throw some dirt in the grave and move on. No big deal. The “purity of womanhood” myth was going down hard and I was confused by my reaction. Who were these women stuffing toilet paper in the sink drain, hiking their asses over the edge and pissing, one after another, until the sink was full? Maybe it was the organized nature of the incidents, in which multiple sinks were allegedly topped off, that threw me for a loop. The fact that I would have gladly helped them fill those sinks if they had asked didn’t make my reaction any more comprehensible or less ironic.

These days, I am happy to live in a world where women can rip one off and laugh about it, and they are no longer expected to endure the unscratched itch. The proverbial pedestal is in ruins, an artifact from a dark age of ignorance, and we men are free to leave the toilet seat in whatever position that suited our last bodily function. I say good riddance to chivalry and long live equality.


Blogger Dazza McTrazza said...


As an interesting sidenote, did you know that part of the reason that men in English society would retire to the smoking room after dinner was so that the women would at last have a chance to perform their daily ablutions? I can just imagine the line of prim and proper English ladies standing outside the toilets unfastening their girdles ready for the big moment.

And I've neevr understood the whole toilet seat debacle. Although I am biased (being male) it does seem to me that gravity favours putting an up toilet seat down rather than a down toilet seat up. Is Newton to blame for this or is nature inherently mysoginistic?

4:09 PM, September 05, 2006  
Blogger Kara said...

Most of those women died from Urinary Tract Infections...caused by holding it in. A fact that is most mysteriously missing from your average text book. That could be because I just made it up, but then again...it's a logical answer. More logical than...say...rabies or something.

5:25 PM, September 05, 2006  
Blogger slaghammer said...

Hi Dazza,
I had no idea.
Where I was raised, the traditional division of the sexes, after meals or during social events, was an unquestioned tradition. It all makes sense to me now. I had always assumed it was because everybody hated each other’s guts. What an epiphany! That still doesn't explain going to town "country style", where the men rode in the front seat and the women in the back.
Regarding the toilet seat up/down mystery, we did it that way because the punishment for failure-to-comply was just too painful to do otherwise. The origin of that miserable rule is lost to history I am sure.

5:29 PM, September 05, 2006  
Blogger slaghammer said...

Hilarious. You had my gills flapping on that one. I bet they did have to deal with some serious bloating being all bound up like that.

5:35 PM, September 05, 2006  
Blogger Agent Kitten said...

I am crazy for you slaghammer, I have never read words so stimulating as yours. Who ARE you? (And do you sell your pottery?)

6:44 PM, September 05, 2006  
Blogger Lucia said...

A fine bit o' writing. But, heavens, dear! Women don't fart! Better they explode by holding it in.

8:21 PM, September 05, 2006  
Blogger ian said...

I must needs dispute Lucia's comment. Women do fart. My daughter is quite proud of her "froggies", and she can belch better than most fratboys I've met. My wife sometimes blows one in her sleep, and you know it's love when you feel that hot breath on your leg under the covers and you don't leap from the bed in horror.


9:57 PM, September 05, 2006  
Blogger Cheesy said...

We gurlies don't fart.. we fluffer... poof...lol... And if you believe that... Pull my Finger!! [Isn't that precious!]

11:55 PM, September 05, 2006  
Blogger slaghammer said...

Agent Kitten,
I’m afraid this is further evidence of the wretched state of your soul. I see heroin in your future if you don’t pull yourself together. Take a deep breath and back away from the edge. Wow! That was a close call.
I do trade my babies for money on occasion. I always feel dirty afterwards and I wonder about them. I mostly do commission work. Maybe someday I will shut down my day job and stop bathing. An artist must build up a powerful stink if he is to convince the world that he is crazy enough to be inspired. I should have a website up in a couple of weeks with samples of my offspring. The alleged URL is still to be determined but I will post it when it happens. Thanks for the compliments. By the way, if you haven’t stopped bathing yet, I don’t recommend that you go direction. Your work appears to stand on it’s own without the need for cheep tricks.

Is that you Aunt Esmeralda? I thought so and it is too late. I have taken the fruit from the tree of knowledge and there is no going back.

Nobody ever said enlightenment was going to be easy. Your story is a stirring testament to the triumph of will. You are a lucky man.

Hold that finger high and let those cheeks flutter like a flag in a hurricane. It is your birthright.

1:31 AM, September 06, 2006  
Blogger R2K said...


9:03 AM, September 06, 2006  
Blogger slaghammer said...

Alex, the truth can be ugly.

2:01 PM, September 06, 2006  
Blogger The Special Sauce said...

"Emaculate Evacuation" Ha! freakin classic! my sister becky farts and giggles like an idiot. I feel bad for her husband at night. I've found him on the couch on more thatn one ocassion. (not because they were fighting)

6:11 PM, September 06, 2006  
Blogger Agent Kitten said...

I can't wait to see those lovely pieces of work, and I hope to purchase one of your children someday, that is, if that awful heroin addiction doesn't get the better of me. Otherwise, I'll have to use the money for my fix, but you understand.

8:17 PM, September 06, 2006  
Blogger Newsandseduction said...

interesting blog.

9:10 PM, September 06, 2006  
Blogger slaghammer said...

Hey Special Sauce, that name is all sticky and I can’t get it off my hands and now it’s all over my damn keyboard and shit, what the hell is that stuff? It’s like mayonnaise and ketchup with little chunks of pickle and it leaks through the sack and it looks like some junky with syphilis has been jacking off all over my blue crushed-velour bucket seats. I guess I’ll just have to wait till it dries and scrape it off tomorrow.
What were we talking about? Your sister, I think your brother-in-law is a lucky dude. A girl who laughs at her own farts is a girl who creates her own happiness. If he really wants to keep her, he is going to have to learn to love all of her.

Agent Kitten, if it has to be something, and I guess it does have to be something, make it high dollar tequila and cheap Mexican beer, and thank you for your kind words.

Newsandseduction, wasn’t there an old Chinese curse that goes, “may you lead an interesting life”. Hmmm, interesting.

12:24 AM, September 07, 2006  
Blogger Melanie said...

Wow!I had no clue that that's the way it seems.Just like some blogs more than the others and thus told the owners so.
But interesting theories, banana peel,heart attack...made me smile!

cya around.

1:15 AM, September 07, 2006  
Blogger slaghammer said...

Melanie, we all have our little tricks to get by in life.

8:48 AM, September 07, 2006  
Blogger ChrisWoznitza said...

Hi ich bin Chriswab aus Bottrop. Viele Grüsse !!

6:02 PM, September 07, 2006  
Blogger slaghammer said...

Hallo Chris, spreche ich nicht Deutsches, also benutze ich einen Internet-Übersetzer. Ich habe keine Weise des Wissens, wenn der Übersetzer genau produziert, was ich ihm zu erkläre. Ich entschuldige mich, wenn es nicht sinnvoll ist. Ich tat die ganze dieses gerade, also kann ich sagen, dude, haben Sie eine Menge blogs. Ich habe kaum Zeit für eine. Wann haben Sie Zeit zu essen oder zu schlafen?
Auf Wiedersehen blog Nachbar.

9:30 PM, September 07, 2006  
Blogger GhostRose said...

[Quote]I can just imagine the line of prim and proper English ladies standing outside the toilets unfastening their girdles ready for the big moment.[/Quote]

There's a story in that somewhere, Dazza. Thanks ever so for putting it in my head! :-)

Slaghammer, who is that woman in the picture? Is it someone famous or is it just some 18th century slut? :-) Good luck with your pottery website as well. I know how you feel about them being your 'offspring'(the pots, not the website although that's pretty special too).

3:07 AM, September 08, 2006  
Blogger Kara said...

Ok, after 20 comments I'm impatient for a new post. Really, the anticipation is killing me. I'm pacing here. Well, I'm sitting...but my mind is pacing. Well, that's not true either, but you get my point.

10:12 AM, September 08, 2006  
Blogger slaghammer said...

I just can’t picture those paragons of propriety lined up outside some skanky outhouse. I’m guessing chamber pots with handmaidens attending the more distasteful operations.
The person in the picture is a girl I dated in high school. She ruptured in 1982 and perished shortly thereafter. Her story serves as a testament to the dangers of excess humility. Your assessment of her character was accurate.
As for the website, it is a beast that haunts me in my waking hours and torments me in my dreams. It clings to my leg like a velcro monkey, screeching for attention. I hate it. I wish it would crawl under the neighbor’s house and die.

I’m getting performance anxiety. I can’t work under these conditions! Somebody get my agent on the phone!

5:23 PM, September 08, 2006  
Blogger Dr. Blogstein said...

Do hot girls fart too? How about celebrities? I would so watch a VH-1 special covering flatulant moments from famous asses like J-Lo and Beyonce. Am I mentally ill?

8:43 PM, September 08, 2006  
Blogger slaghammer said...

Hi doc, hot girls shunt their excess gas from a valve located on the back of their heads. It doesn't have the same affect, so, no VH1 special.

Are you mentally ill?
If I saw you standing on the corner with a "please give" sign, I would give you money. For me to give money like that, you pretty much have to be naked and talking to your own feces. So the answer is yes.

2:54 AM, September 09, 2006  
Blogger Dr. Blogstein said...

Thank you for the diagnosis. Unfortunatly it just confirms every other opinion I've gotten. I might as well just embrace my mental illness and really enjoy it.

10:06 AM, September 09, 2006  
Blogger Donna Piranha said...

I might love you. This is great. I once made bumper stickers as a joke that said "Everybody Farts" and "Fart Outloud!", but I admit I was embarrassed when a friend put one on my car.
Thanks for the fun blog.

3:11 PM, September 13, 2006  
Blogger slaghammer said...

Hi Donna Piranha,
A perfect illustration of the disparity between “preach and practice”. Nobody is immune to it. There is no question that the fart is a funny thing. If it were not for that uncomfortable stigma still attached to it, who knows.

4:59 PM, September 13, 2006  

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