Knee to Chest Pose. Lying on your back, bring your knees up close to
your chest. While doing this, tuck your chin into the chest and hold for
30 seconds. This will apply pressure on the abdomen and help you release
gas. Just let it rip.

+++++++++++++++++++

One never knows when the need will arise

On Friday, August 27, 2021 at 1:07:54 AM UTC-4, Judith Latham wrote:
> Knee to Chest Pose. Lying on your back, bring your knees up close to
> your chest. While doing this, tuck your chin into the chest and hold for
> 30 seconds. This will apply pressure on the abdomen and help you release
> gas. Just let it rip.
>
> +++++++++++++++++++
>
> One never knows when the need will arise

I have no flexibility now. As a kid I did. Nothing outstanding, but I could bend and twist when needed. But I have never been able to pull my knees all the way to my chest. I think even as a kid I was not good at that one.. I have some kind of blockage - should be mental - that prevents me from taking complete bowel movements. Whatever is causing the problem also affects my farts in a negative way. I don't cut the big dry loud ones anymore. They just sort of squeeze out. The plumbing is getting clogged up. We are living toilets, all of us. Some have good flush systems, some don't. But yes, when my farts were young and lively, loud and dry, oh yes by all means, any and all methods that could serve to further their occurrence was always welcomed. Fart pills would be good. Not gas pills like they sell OTC that just dissipate the gas. I'm talking about a pill that makes them come out loud and big, just the way I like them. If they stink it's a bonus. But oh yes I surely do remember the great feeling of fulsome farts and the tremendous overall feeling of relief they always provided either in company or alone under the covers deep in fart-induced dreams.

On 8/27/2021 6:40 PM, Thomas Joseph wrote:
> On Friday, August 27, 2021 at 1:07:54 AM UTC-4, Judith Latham wrote:
>> Knee to Chest Pose. Lying on your back, bring your knees up close to
>> your chest. While doing this, tuck your chin into the chest and hold for
>> 30 seconds. This will apply pressure on the abdomen and help you release
>> gas. Just let it rip.
>>
>> +++++++++++++++++++
>>
>> One never knows when the need will arise
>
>
> I have no flexibility now. As a kid I did. Nothing outstanding, but I could bend and twist when needed. But I have never been able to pull my knees all the way to my chest. I think even as a kid I was not good at that one. I have some kind of blockage - should be mental - that prevents me from taking complete bowel movements. Whatever is causing the problem also affects my farts in a negative way. I don't cut the big dry loud ones anymore. They just sort of squeeze out. The plumbing is getting clogged up. We are living toilets, all of us. Some have good flush systems, some don't. But yes, when my farts were young and lively, loud and dry, oh yes by all means, any and all methods that could serve to further their occurrence was always welcomed. Fart pills would be good. Not gas pills like they sell OTC that just dissipate the gas. I'm talking about a pill that makes them come out loud and big, just the way I like them. If they stink it's a bonus. But oh yes I surely do remember the great feeling of fulsome farts and the tremendous overall feeling of relief they always provided either in company or alone under the covers deep in fart-induced dreams.
>

That was strictly a FYI article. Can you picture me trying to lay on the
floor, never mind trying to bend my knees to my chest? Thankfully a
woman of my size can let a loud, dry one rip at will, which I do if I
don't like the company around me. My ability to sustain one is
legendary; I've been clocked at 45 seconds straight. You should have
seen the faces of the people at synagogue that day.

> That was strictly a FYI article. Can you picture me trying to lay on the
> floor, never mind trying to bend my knees to my chest? Thankfully a
> woman of my size can let a loud, dry one rip at will, which I do if I
> don't like the company around me. My ability to sustain one is
> legendary; I've been clocked at 45 seconds straight. You should have
> seen the faces of the people at synagogue that day.

Every synagogue I ever vandalized as a kid smelled like farts. I always wondered why. Your post explains it at last. Thank you. Now once again, in case you think I'm anti Jewish - and even if I am, what the fuck are you going to do about it? - let me remind you that I also vandalized Catholic and Lutheran churches. Any kind of place of worship was ripe for me. But we weren't talking about vandalism, were we? No, we were talking about something far more constructive. Sometimes far more meaningful. Something everyone needs to talk about more often - our farts. For the love of God thank you.

On 8/28/2021 6:29 PM, Thomas Joseph wrote:
>
>> That was strictly a FYI article. Can you picture me trying to lay on the
>> floor, never mind trying to bend my knees to my chest? Thankfully a
>> woman of my size can let a loud, dry one rip at will, which I do if I
>> don't like the company around me. My ability to sustain one is
>> legendary; I've been clocked at 45 seconds straight. You should have
>> seen the faces of the people at synagogue that day.
>
>
> Every synagogue I ever vandalized as a kid smelled like farts. I always wondered why. Your post explains it at last. Thank you. Now once again, in case you think I'm anti Jewish - and even if I am, what the fuck are you going to do about it? - let me remind you that I also vandalized Catholic and Lutheran churches. Any kind of place of worship was ripe for me. But we weren't talking about vandalism, were we? No, we were talking about something far more constructive. Sometimes far more meaningful. Something everyone needs to talk about more often - our farts. For the love of God thank you.
>

Farts are also quite capable of causing destruction. On September 10,
2001 I was riding up to the 86th floor on a crowded elevator in Tower 2
at the WTC. I had just come back from my lunch break. I spent the hour
at Clancy's downing about 8 Whiskey Sours and munching non-stop on beef
jerky and pickled sausage. I had had a few burritos for breakfast, so I
had built up quite a collection of toxic gas. The elevator got stuck
right above the 74th floor. We were stuck about 45 minutes, but it
seemed like an eternity. About 3 or 4 minutes into the ordeal, I let
loose one for the ages. Not only was it loud (the elevator actually
vibrated) but the smell was nauseating. The other people were all
gagging and turning blue from trying to hold their breathe. I myself
nearly fainted, and this was my very own fart. I usually enjoy my own
but this one was a particular killer. When we were finally rescued, the
NYC mayor happened to be there and welcomed us. He said that that was
the worst disaster to ever hit NYC. We agreed that people would always
remember 9/10. That didn't last long.

> Farts are also quite capable of causing destruction. On September 10,
> 2001 I was riding up to the 86th floor on a crowded elevator in Tower 2
> at the WTC. I had just come back from my lunch break. I spent the hour
> at Clancy's downing about 8 Whiskey Sours and munching non-stop on beef
> jerky and pickled sausage. I had had a few burritos for breakfast, so I
> had built up quite a collection of toxic gas. The elevator got stuck
> right above the 74th floor. We were stuck about 45 minutes, but it
> seemed like an eternity. About 3 or 4 minutes into the ordeal, I let
> loose one for the ages. Not only was it loud (the elevator actually
> vibrated) but the smell was nauseating. The other people were all
> gagging and turning blue from trying to hold their breathe. I myself
> nearly fainted, and this was my very own fart. I usually enjoy my own
> but this one was a particular killer. When we were finally rescued, the
> NYC mayor happened to be there and welcomed us. He said that that was
> the worst disaster to ever hit NYC. We agreed that people would always
> remember 9/10. That didn't last long.

Good one. You could be psychic on a very high level, so high a level that even you don't know it. That horrible fart you cut that fateful day in the WTC not only predated the later tower disaster that everyone remembers - the never say die politically tinged hero-making 9/11 they will never let us forget - it's highly condensed reek represented the stench of however many corpses the air strike produced a year later. You sensed disaster but could not express it. But your farts could - and they did. You see, our farts operate on a more instinctive level than our brains. Your brain sensed disaster that day in the elevator a full year before the tragic event. The psychic side of your brain sensed it. But it could not communicate what it felt. So your farts stepped in and took over. Your farts were an omen of thungs to come.

A few years after 9/11 I had a New Yorker in my cab who said he was in the towers on 9/11, in the very same elevator in which you had cut your devastating fart only a year before. The guy told me he felt very strange as his memory took him back to a year before and his brain was filled with the reek of your fart that day. Inwardly he felt compelled to flee the building but did not know why. But the memory of your fart got him moving. He left the building only 5 minutes before the first plane slammed home. The memory of your farts and their psychic powers saved that man's life. He told me he returned a few days later to see the damage he had escaped. "Man", he said, "all I could smell were corpses. It was like walking through an open grave. It smelled just like that fart from a year before. Exactly the same. I'm telling you man, the memory of the smell of that fart came to me as a warning. That smell, that horrible smell - it saved my life."

So you see Judith, your prescient fart was not only an omen of things to come, it was in fact the very first first-responder to come out of the WTC disaster. Remember and be proud - you are somebody's hero. The first of the first responders.

On 8/30/2021 10:26 PM, Thomas Joseph wrote:
>
>> Farts are also quite capable of causing destruction. On September 10,
>> 2001 I was riding up to the 86th floor on a crowded elevator in Tower 2
>> at the WTC. I had just come back from my lunch break. I spent the hour
>> at Clancy's downing about 8 Whiskey Sours and munching non-stop on beef
>> jerky and pickled sausage. I had had a few burritos for breakfast, so I
>> had built up quite a collection of toxic gas. The elevator got stuck
>> right above the 74th floor. We were stuck about 45 minutes, but it
>> seemed like an eternity. About 3 or 4 minutes into the ordeal, I let
>> loose one for the ages. Not only was it loud (the elevator actually
>> vibrated) but the smell was nauseating. The other people were all
>> gagging and turning blue from trying to hold their breathe. I myself
>> nearly fainted, and this was my very own fart. I usually enjoy my own
>> but this one was a particular killer. When we were finally rescued, the
>> NYC mayor happened to be there and welcomed us. He said that that was
>> the worst disaster to ever hit NYC. We agreed that people would always
>> remember 9/10. That didn't last long.
>
> Good one. You could be psychic on a very high level, so high a level that even you don't know it. That horrible fart you cut that fateful day in the WTC not only predated the later tower disaster that everyone remembers - the never say die politically tinged hero-making 9/11 they will never let us forget - it's highly condensed reek represented the stench of however many corpses the air strike produced a year later. You sensed disaster but could not express it. But your farts could - and they did. You see, our farts operate on a more instinctive level than our brains. Your brain sensed disaster that day in the elevator a full year before the tragic event. The psychic side of your brain sensed it. But it could not communicate what it felt. So your farts stepped in and took over. Your farts were an omen of thungs to come.
>
> A few years after 9/11 I had a New Yorker in my cab who said he was in the towers on 9/11, in the very same elevator in which you had cut your devastating fart only a year before. The guy told me he felt very strange as his memory took him back to a year before and his brain was filled with the reek of your fart that day. Inwardly he felt compelled to flee the building but did not know why. But the memory of your fart got him moving. He left the building only 5 minutes before the first plane slammed home. The memory of your farts and their psychic powers saved that man's life. He told me he returned a few days later to see the damage he had escaped. "Man", he said, "all I could smell were corpses. It was like walking through an open grave. It smelled just like that fart from a year before. Exactly the same. I'm telling you man, the memory of the smell of that fart came to me as a warning. That smell, that horrible smell - it saved my life."
>
> So you see Judith, your prescient fart was not only an omen of things to come, it was in fact the very first first-responder to come out of the WTC disaster. Remember and be proud - you are somebody's hero. The first of the first responders.
>

Thank you, I am humbled by your kind words. I never thought of myself as
a hero; I just considered myself another fat broad who farted on a
crowded elevator. Now that I look at it your way, I feel pride. My farts
do make a difference.

> Thank you, I am humbled by your kind words. I never thought of myself as
> a hero; I just considered myself another fat broad who farted on a
> crowded elevator. Now that I look at it your way, I feel pride. My farts
> do make a difference.

JFM - "Judith's Farts Matter." See, this is why I'm not a fan of scientists. They don't think outside the box. Have any of these assholes ever considered the possible curative powers of farts? Bad breath too? They need to stretch out and at least examine the possibility of such things. A human being is easily confused because the world is complex with a lot of different shit going down all at once. So even a person with a big brain can sometimes find themselves incapable of going with the flow and discovering things that really matter. A fart does not have a brain. But it's a living thing, you can bet on that. It doesn't need a brain, it doesn't need to think - it's pure instinct. It can do things we could never imagine. Of course a really smelly fart is capable of seeing into the future. It doesn't so much see into it as it already knows it because farts do not know time. Nothing matter to them. They float on the winds of chance. They don't last long - they dissipate over time - but at their peak they are in fact the very essence of knowledge and truth itself. They need to start bottling them and digging deeper into what they can do to help make our world a better place for all. Sheesh!

On Tue, 31 Aug 2021 15:54:11 -0700 (PDT), Thomas Joseph
<jazeev1234@gmail.com> wrote:

>
>> Thank you, I am humbled by your kind words. I never thought of myself as
>> a hero; I just considered myself another fat broad who farted on a
>> crowded elevator. Now that I look at it your way, I feel pride. My farts
>> do make a difference.
>
>
>JFM - "Judith's Farts Matter." See, this is why I'm not a fan of scientists. They don't think outside the box. Have any of these assholes ever considered the possible curative powers of farts? Bad breath too? They need to stretch out and at least examine the possibility of such things. A human being is easily confused because the world is complex with a lot of different shit going down all at once. So even a person with a big brain can sometimes find themselves incapable of going with the flow and discovering things that really matter. A fart does not have a brain. But it's a living thing, you can bet on that. It doesn't need a brain, it doesn't need to think - it's pure instinct. It can do things we could never imagine. Of course a really smelly fart is capable of seeing into the future. It doesn't so much see into it as it already knows it because farts do not know time. Nothing matter to them. They float on the winds of chance. They don't last long - they
dissipate
>over time - but at their peak they are in fact the very essence of knowledge and truth itself. They need to start bottling them and digging deeper into what they can do to help make our world a better place for all. Sheesh!

I disagree. I believe they should be dissipated as they form. They
should especially should be shared in crowded elevators or subway
cars. It's like a cat marking his territory. If I fart inside this
bus, I'm declaring it as mine until the end of my ride. It's Darwinism
in its' urban form.

I disagree. I believe they should be dissipated as they form. They
should especially should be shared in crowded elevators or subway
cars. It's like a cat marking his territory. If I fart inside this
bus, I'm declaring it as mine until the end of my ride. It's Darwinism
in its' urban form.

There she goes again - disagreeing right off the bat. ...... I appreciate your responses to my older posts. But regarding this particular post and others of mine through time, I don't think you read them carefully. You say you disagree so often it seems to be a big habit of yours. How can you disagree when we are saying the same thing. It's probably a linguist thing, me using the wrong word or you misreading it. When I say I don't want farts to dissipate I'm not talking about them spreading out in a confined space. I mean I am simply disappointed because they don't last long enough.. Permeation is a good word. I want the farts to permeate the atmosphere. They can dissipate and in fact must dissipate to make way for newer younger farts, same as with all living things, the old giving way to the new. All I'm asking for is a slightly longer performance from our finest farts. Set the stage for new acts to follow, yes - but let each fart live all the way at it's fullest power before yanking it off the stage.

Our older farts
Replaced by the new
That is fine with me
If it's got a strong pee yew
Just keep em humming
Keep those stink bombs coming
Filling our air with fragrant foulness
It's like, "Whew whew whew!"

On 9/12/2021 6:21 PM, Thomas Joseph wrote:
> I disagree. I believe they should be dissipated as they form. They
> should especially should be shared in crowded elevators or subway
> cars. It's like a cat marking his territory. If I fart inside this
> bus, I'm declaring it as mine until the end of my ride. It's Darwinism
> in its' urban form.
>
> There she goes again - disagreeing right off the bat. ...... I appreciate your responses to my older posts. But regarding this particular post and others of mine through time, I don't think you read them carefully. You say you disagree so often it seems to be a big habit of yours. How can you disagree when we are saying the same thing. It's probably a linguist thing, me using the wrong word or you misreading it.

Wouldn't this be a boring group, and life in general, if we always
agreed with each other? Disagreement is what unites people. Never trust,
question everything.

When I say I don't want farts to dissipate I'm not talking about them
spreading out in a confined space. I mean I am simply disappointed
because they don't last long enough. Permeation is a good word. I want
the farts to permeate the atmosphere. They can dissipate and in fact
must dissipate to make way for newer younger farts, same as with all
living things, the old giving way to the new. All I'm asking for is a
slightly longer performance from our finest farts. Set the stage for
new acts to follow, yes - but let each fart live all the way at it's
fullest power before yanking it off the stage.
>
> Our older farts
> Replaced by the new
> That is fine with me
> If it's got a strong pee yew
> Just keep em humming
> Keep those stink bombs coming
> Filling our air with fragrant foulness
> It's like, "Whew whew whew!"
>

You are a very talented poet. Much better than Bozo.

> You are a very talented poet. Much better than Bozo.

I suck and you know it. But I don't care. It's not about being good or bad, it's about art. I live for my art. I am an artist. Did I ever tell you that? Well, I'm telling you now. I am a poet as well. But not with text, not in the traditional sense. I am merely a genuine full-time artist who can't help but do things in a poetic way because I am a walking poem. Do you READ me?