The Fart Tape

The fart is a social outcast. It is scorned and avoided in public, it is shunned, fanned, criticized, and sprayed. Never talked about, less frequently read about, the gas we all emit is kept in the bathroom like a filthy, embarrassing house guest.

For as long as I can remember, my older brother and I have always maintained a different relationship with farts. Farts were not dirty secrets to us—they were hilarious and needed to be shared and enjoyed by everyone.  They were gifts from within and were often a crude yet effective means of communication. When you sleep on twin beds in the same room, a verbal “good morning” is not necessary; your butts have already done the talking. Our farts were greetings.

Over 20 years ago I created a “Fart Tape” for David when he was leaving home for college. It was the best going-away present I could offer as an immature freshman in high school.

I researched foods that would make me gassy, and expelled dozens and dozens of farts into the microphone of my boom box during a lively three days of recording. (I would thank a high school friend here but he may wish to distance himself from such hijinks now that we’re adults.)

The finished tape became legendary. My high school soccer team listened to it before our games for inspiration; my brother and his friends played it as background music during drinking games in their dorm rooms. Inexplicably, someone stole it from him one night and we never heard the Fart Tape again. I like to imagine that it was adopted by a special type of person who enjoyed it all these years and maybe even passed it down to his twisted little children.

Though disgusting and taboo, farts are a secret amusement for most guys. That is why I decided to recreate the tape for David’s birthday this year. As a grown man with a wife and young son, farting into a computer feels undeniably crass.  Alas, a man must sometimes sacrifice his very dignity in deference to artistic expression. The final product contains 23 selections with names like, “Chainsaw Massacre,” “Rev the Motorcycle,” and “Saturday Morning Workshop.”

Below are a few tracks for your listening pleasure. All selections are authentically ass-produced. You, Lunaphyte visitor, now have a chance to enjoy the CD for yourself should you need a novelty gift for a birthday or over the holidays. The CD costs $7.99 plus $2 for shipping and handling. Email to place an order. (PayPal coming soon!) $1 of every order will go to environmental charities.

Click here for samples:

Chainsaw Massacre

Rev the Motorcycle

Deterioration in C Minor


4 Responses to “The Fart Tape”

  1. Sitting in my office wiping the tears away. Awesome!!!

    Your flatulance is truly legendary

    • The Kid! I like to think that you had your office door open and your coworkers assumed you ate some bad tacos. It thrills me to know that the Fart Tape was a part of your work day!

  2. I must admit, I had the fart tape on que & would play it when people came in my office.

    Chainsaw Massacre is pure gold.

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