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Gawker: A 17-year-old girl allegedly attacked a male classmate last week because the boy farted near her at a Staten Island high school. Prosecutors say Joquasha Rosado smashed the 15-year-old victim in the head with a metal stool before repeatedly punching him in the face. DNA Info reports that Rosado was arrested and charged with assault, criminal possession of a weapon, and harassment. She was released without bail and is due back in court on February 25. The victim was taken Staten Island University Hospital, where he received eight staples in his head.
Oh man, now Joquasha is NEVER gonna get into Yale. And just when she was about to turn her life around, finish up her GED, open her own barber shop, and become a marine biologist. Kind of fitting that they live in Staten Island though. I mean, this would at least be an appropriate time for her to start yelling, “I Can’t Breathe.” “Hands up, don’t toot!!!”
Meanwhile, think of the long-term damage this is gonna do to this poor kid. Every time he goes to rip ass he’s gonna have PTSD flashbacks ins’t he? It’s too bad because farting is one of the greatest feelings in the world. I rank it right above sleeping in and right below discovering yourself for the first time.
All I gotta say is, thank God I didn’t go to school with my girl Joquasha, because I used to rip ass at South High like it was going out of style. When you’re a teenage boy, it’s like your job to be disgusting. The only girls you didn’t rip ass in front of were the ones you were trying to make out with at the Rez that weekend. And at South High there were about four or five total girls in the entire school that you would even consider going to first base with after blowing a .22. So in other words, there were virtually no situations in high school in which I didn’t just let it rip.
But the thing about South High was there were no walls. Ya got that? No walls. So sometimes you’d bang out a nice one and you wouldn’t even get credit for it. Next thing you know some Joquasha prodigy in Mr. Alfonso’s class at the other end of the foreign language pod lets out a blood curdling scream after getting a good wiff of it. She’s yelling at everyone in the class demanding to know who the perpetrator is. Meanwhile Mr. Alfonsos’s trying to teach them how to conjugate irregular verbs, and the whole class is yelling, “YOU NASTY!!!” To this day I don’t know how teachers taught in that school. It’s truly a modern miracle.
There were some classes that had walls though. Like when they ran out of rooms and stuck you down in the basement. It was like cell-block D. Twenty five kids in close quarters. Needless to say letting one rip in those rooms was much much more effective, and obviously the goal of the day. And boy did I let out some good ones down there!! Because your own farts never smell. Only other people’s farts smell. It’s science.
Looking back at it I probably would’ve hit high school me in the head with a stool, so I can’t really say I blame Joquasha here. She’s trying to get her learn on and the next thing you know this 15-year old McMuffin is letting it rip right in her face. So my take on this is pretty simple. If the two of them were in close quarters, then I blame him and I find her not guilty. A fart can be considered a type of aggression if it’s done in dutch oven-fashion. If you leave the victims with nowhere to run to avoid the fumes, then you should expect blowback from your chemical warfare. It’s self-defense. But if it’s an open air fart, then you need to calm your nani Joquasha. Just move and wait for it to pass onto someone else. After all, he’s just letting off some steam.
Now that I’m an adult I can honestly say that the worst thing I miss about not being a kid is that I can’t rip ass wherever I want to. When you’re out in public you just know that 25% of the people around you are holding in farts. It’s so unnatural. But you know the first thing every one of those dooshnozzles do when they go home is let it rip. Or how about when you’re at work and you have to toot your horn? There isn’t a single person reading this that hasn’t been there before. I think we can all agree that the greatest part of that day was when you got in your car and basked in your own dutch oven. Life is good.
Speaking of letting it rip at home, the last thing I wanna talk about it farting in front of your wife or girlfriend. Serious question, how far along in the relationship before you start letting loose? For me it’s six months. With Mrs. Turtleboy I remember the first six months of our relationship were by far the worst because I held in big ones constantly. Then one day I tested the waters just to see what would happen. I got a little slap on the wrist and was told I was nasty. AKA game on. From that point on our relationship got a million times better because I don’t walk around holding in that sweet, delicious flatulence all day long. Thank God women don’t fart.
Feel free to share your farting stories to keep the conversation going.
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