Pain At The Rump

I have a bit of a personal problem, and that problem is thus: Recently my employer purchased new leather office chairs to replace our old cloth chairs. Much like Ms. Babble, the old chairs were worn, unsightly, and riddled with a variety of unidentified stains. Here is a reasonable facsimile of my old chair:

And here is a hot-linked stock photo of my new chair:

Right now you're probably thinking, "So Dyckerson, what's the problem?? I would kill for an office chair like that!"

Well it's kind of a long story. I'll give you the long version. You see, thanks to a certain Sassy Blonde who shall remain nameless, I have acquired an addiction to fiber. A few months ago while seducing Her Sassiness online, we somehow got on the topic of bowel movements. It seems that the lovely Sassy shits at least seven or eight times per day, whereas at the time I was only shitting about once a month.

"DYCKIEPOO!!!" she exclaimed. "You're going to kill yourself! You must have more fiber!!! Fiber is key!!!!!!"

I immediately put down my laptop, pulled up my pants, and ran to the store. I stocked up on every kind of fiber product you could imagine. Fiber cereal, fiber breakfast bars, fiber powder, chewable fiber tablets, fiber brownies, fiber ice cream, fiber Doritos, fiber Coke, and fiber aspirin. Needless to say, my fecal output has skyrocketed. I am now shitting three or four times per hour. PER HOUR, people!!!

I have also become far more flatulent.

To say that my farts stink would be an understatement. My farts are vile, offensive, and downright unsavory. Imagine the aroma of fresh turds...combined with the odor of boiling cabbage...combined with the stench of a rotting skunk carcass in the middle of a country road on a hot summer morn. My farts have been known to make grown men weep. My farts could wilt the flowers on wallpaper. My farts could knock a buzzard off a shitwagon. My farts could strip the chrome off a '57 Chevy. My farts could knock a grown buzzard off a '57 shitwagon covered in chrome wallpaper.

Therein lies the problem: My gas attacks often strike me on the job. The pressure usually starts building up after my mid-morning fiber boost. I usually try to hold it in for a while, but by early afternoon, the force becomes unstoppable. I have no choice but to unleash my noxious fumes into the office via my anal orifice.

Being made of a somewhat porous fabric, my old chair was significantly more...how shall I put this?...more absorbent. In the old days, I could release a fart, and my chair would dutifully soak up a good 50 or 60% of the sound and the odor. By the time my old chair was retired, I estimate that it contained at least 75 pounds of foul flatulent funk.

Contrast that with my new chair. Nowadays when I let loose, the leather upholstery forms an inpenetrable shield, thereby rejecting my gaseous emissions and deflecting them back into the atmosphere where they can be experienced by all. And when the vibrations from my ass cheeks ricochet off the chair, the sound level is amplified greatly. What used to be silent but deadly is now deafening and fatal.

I have already tried a number of strategies to deal with this unfortunate circumstance. I have tried various Renuzit and Febreeze-like products...but they only add to the nasal assault. I have tried creating a diversion to mask the sound, such as slamming a desk drawer or clearing my throat...but these tactics fail to address the stank issue. I have tried walking around the building and cropdusting...but the stench always seems to follow me back to my desk.

People, I need solutions, and I need them NOW. It is only a matter of time before I am caught and outed by an offended co-worker. So tell me, how do you hide your farts???


Willo Keays said...

Oh! Your stinky self just got delisted from the stalking list!

Now ... since hubby had Cystic Fibrosis ... he too had a similar problem. His best friend became a product called "Ozone" - and they do happen to sell a travel size. {Of course ... I can't find a link to the web site for you. Sorry!}

Also, he found by stepping outside for a few minutes, he was able to take care of the problem with no one the wiser.

Mighty Dyckerson said...

So you're telling me I have Cystic Fibrosis??! Great, now I'm going to die!

don henley said...

Last thing I remember, I was
Running for the door
I had to find the passage back
To the place I was before

Sassy Blondie said...

Now Dyckie, NO ONE shits 7-8 times per day...stop exaggerating. I merely pointed out that a monthly dump is not normal.

Now stop your sissy ass whining and go get you some Gas X or something, you bloated piece!

Mighty Dyckerson said...

Don -
Well, I'm goin' down to the swamp river country someday
Gotta get away from the fast-movin' people some way
Gonna settle down with my woman on the bayou
Staying cool in the summer when the breeze blows

Sassy - First you get me hooked on fiber, now you're trying to get me hooked on Gas-X??! Pill pusher!!!

JMEPED said...

I tried fiber too. Just say no.... I found the monthly dump is much better than the twice a week the fiber was doing. All that gas is not sexy. You could get up to "sharpen you pencil" when the urge strikes. Just put on you wonder woman bracelet and put billy on your desk with a plant in it. People will be so distracted with the shine of you hairy wrist and garden decor they won't even notice. If they do tell them it's fertilizer from your plant.

OldHorsetailSnake said...

Gee, Dyck, this should be a no-brainer for you. What you tell the on-lookers (and nose-sniffers) is that you're practicing on how to fill a hot-air balloon when there is no hot-air in sight. I mean, that should be obvious.....

Mighty Dyckerson said...

JMEPED - You're such a wise lesbian. You always have all the answers! I wouldn't mind "sharpening my pencil" in you! ;)

Snake - But my farts don't float. If they did, I'd be on the moon by now.

puerileuwaite said...

Just a thought: you DO remember to extract the gerbil after you're done with it, right?

Mighty Dyckerson said...

P - You are banned.


Easy Dyck- Insert a large cork and leave it in during office hours.Just make sure that when you take it out, you're grounded to something.

The Middle Lifer said...

They are called Depends. They sell a scented brand now I think, try that. Great by product is not having to actually go in the bathroom too!

catscratch said...

Get up and walk around your desk. If you're really good, you'll learn to fart and walk in rhythm.

I'm certain you can master the skill of walking farts.

elizadoohicky said...

bean-o works wonders. also, put a thick towel on your chair: tell people the leather touching your skin makes you sad for the cow and then tell them to fuck off.

Maven said...

Anal sex.
Lots and lots of anal sex.

Get Mrs. Dyckerson a strap on, and have her give it to you until you loosen up enough so that your skatole can escape as it's created, rather than let it build up until there is an ass-blastable situation.