This Is How We Do

The average cross country biker burns up to 6000 calories a day.

Amazing, huh? The human body requires buckets of salt, fat and carbohydrates in order to sustain that kind of intense physical exercise. Not only does that mean you’re losing weight like nobody’s business, but it also means you have earned a Golden Ticket to eat anything you want.

I eat potato chips, ding-dongs, candy bars and frozen burritos. I eat corn dogs, cheeseburgers, fries and large milkshakes. I eat full 12 inch all-meat pizzas to myself. Sometimes, I just eat because I can.

Sounds pretty sweet, right? Well, there’s only one problem.

All of it makes me fart.

I have become a walking anal symphony. I can trumpet. I can play percussion. If I want to, I can even whistle. Yes, my bottom has a full Ska band just waiting to play for you.

But, as we all know, with great power comes great responsibility. So through diligent practice and the application of Certain Principles I have learned to control my powers.

In short, though I am farting constantly, I have made it so you will never know.

This has potentially devastating consequences to those reading who I’ve met on the trip so far. You might be asking yourself: “Has he done it in front of me?” And the answer is yes, I’ve done it in front of you. I’ve done it right underneath your nose. But before your feelings of betrayal take over and you hate me forever, I hope that you recognize it was nothing personal. We’ll talk later.

Anyway: I fart when I’m riding and I fart when I’m eating. I fart when I’m thinking and I fart while I’m sleeping. In case you’re not getting the point, I fart. A lot.

So one evening I'm sitting in a restaurant, getting my usual cheeseburger, fries and large milkshake when suddenly I'm hit with the natural, intestinal urge we’ve been discussing this whole entry. Unfortunately the restaurant is particularly busy that night and a degree of discretion was required. So, like a ninja choosing the right weapon of stealth, I engage a classic technique: the Slow Release. I pull it off expertly, true to form, a small smile curling on my lips.

Then a small child pops up in the booth in front of me. I stare at him, and he stares at me.

He asks, point blank:

“Did you fart?”

My eyes widen. I may be a stealth farter, but I’m no liar. I open my mouth to respond, my conscience and all the silent victims of my crimes prying my jaws open wide.

Then, like the hand of god, his parents snatch him up and apologize for his behavior. Saved! I give them a frumpy smile and an eyebrow nod, as though I didn’t have time for such childish absurdity, and go back to my meal.

Around here is where I look at the camera, my eyes go bright yellow, and Vincent Price laughs maniacally.

If I get some time this week I’ll add other stuff. For now, please enjoy This Week’s Statistics:

Total distance traveled: 338.67 miles
Average distance per day: 67.73 miles
Average speed: 11.54 mph
Max. speed: 46 mph

Thanks for reading! I love you all!