Imagine farting so good, it’s your profession.
“What do you, Steve?”
“I am a flatulist.”
“Oh you play the flute?”
“More like a tuba…”
“I am the instrument”
“… so, you’re a singer”
“I’m a singer doing a handstand”
This is the kind of material the king is looking for. How are your farts?
One jump, one whistle, and one fart was the highest level of entertainment at the time I guess. I’m glad human entertainment has evolved beyond the humor level of my six year old son.
Farts are funny, that is a universal constant.
universal content
Not so funny when it’s just two of you in an escape pod
Man, things really were a bore before radio huh?
it was genuinely so fucking boring that people were more than happy to give any visiting traveller free food and housing so long as they told some stories and news, you could straight up live your life as a travelling storyteller because everyone was so dreadfully desperate for some entertainment.
I mean that is still the case now with celebrities, just the “give them stuff” now is outsourced.
Bumbulum is such a great word
Whoa, Black Betty
“Bulum” means “instrument”, so it literally means “bum instrument”
It’s a bulum out of the bum.
I have more impressive talents than that. I can haz house please?
To be fair I think this talent may be firmly in 'you had to be there territory.
There are still people playing the lute and all kinds of other historic instruments. There must be a group of devoted flatulists out there? I’m not just saying any old farters, I’m talking true flatulists.
If my family is any indication, there are underemployed flatulists out there, farting at jobs that don’t support them for their contributions.
well there’s
I’ve been known to knock out a several second solo on the rectaphone. Doesn’t tend to be at will though (well I don’t want him to slap me).
This one was pretty dedicated to the art of bumbulum, but sadly was forced to retire.
Truly, the brightest flame burns the quickest.
I am a true flatulist. I would love to play you the sound of my people. You know one could say that I kinda admire you, so I wrote a song just for you. It would be an honor to perform.
One Jump, One Whistle, One Fart
Didn’t George Thorogood cover that song?
So jumpin jack flash wasnt actually a jack
Imagine 20 years on, he’s an established country gentleman, married with grown children, and he still has to ride to court every Christmas to fart for the king.
I need to see a performance of one jump, one whistle, and one fart
Also, does fart originate from flatulence art?
Life will not be the same after this.
A close elevator is now an excusite art gallery.My basketball team used to do great fart performances in the van before the out-games. Truly amazing people. Material for Fartonauts.
I looked up what flatulists are, and I’m happy to announce that I have found my dream job.
Performance anxiety and stage fright would do me in personally.
Id overcommit and shit my pants in front of the king
Depending on your response to anxiety, those could be performance enhancing
On his business cards, he would put his title as “bumbulist”
Where can I learn this power?
Google Mr. Methane.
Learn the forbidden art and secure your plot of land from King Charles.
I wonder if he was lactose intolerant. Either way, he found a way to monetize it.
Last week, I was watching a live taping of a comedy podcast, where a couple of journalists tell crazy stories from history.
They were doing the story of serial scammer, Frank Abergnale, aka the guy Leonardo DiCaprio plays in Catch Me If You Can. The problem with this story is that Frank Abergnale might be full of shit in his own right, as the only source for much of his story is based on his self-biography, which is very likely not true.
The hosts take turns researching and telling the stories, while the other one listens. This week, the storyteller was the lactose intolerant guy. So, because he knew his story was gonna be a lot of bullshit, he had brought a packet of 18 cheap cheeses. So if the listening host got a whiff of this being a lie, he would be able to call bullshit, and the storytelling host would have to eat one of the cheeses as punishment on behalf of Mr. Abergnale.
All this to say that this comment made me realize, we still have jesters and flatulists today. We just call them comedians and podcast hosts.
… and yet when I do a beautiful, booming bottom burp in front of King Charlie-come-lately I get hauled away by the Royal Protection Squad!
