As always, your advice to FART was spot-on. FART wanted to know how to talk women into letting him sniff their farts, and insisted his fetish wasn't disgusting. You rightly pointed out that it is DIS-gusting. Here's something that may make FART feel a bit better about himself: None other than James Joyce was into the same thing. In a dirty letter Joyce sent to his beloved, "my sweet little whorish Nora," you can read the following:
"You had an arse full of farts that night, darling, and I fucked them out of you, big fat fellows, long windy ones, quick little merry cracks and a lot of tiny little naughty farties ending in a long gush from your hole. It is wonderful to fuck a farting woman when every fuck drives one out of her. I think I would know Nora's fart anywhere. I think I could pick hers out in a roomful of farting women. It is a rather girlish noise not like the wet windy fart which I imagine fat wives have. It is sudden and dry and dirty like what a bold girl would let off in fun in a school dormitory at night. I hope Nora will let off no end of her farts in my face so that I may know their smell also."
That's pretty literate considering what he's describing. After that, I may even read Ulysses.
Tim Chilman
P.S. I can't think of an acronym but I'd be proud to have my name on your degenerate page.
I'm thrilled to have your name on my degenerate page, Tim, and I'd like to mention my brother's name as well, Bill Savage, who stuffs young people's heads--and only their heads--at Northwestern University. I have to admit that I doubted you, Tim, and I worried that you might be making all of this up, so my brother looked up Joyce's letters and verified that, yes, James Joyce, like FART, was a gas huffer.
