After the longest hiatus in the the blogs storied history, I (the person who writes the most), has decided to step up and produce some new material.

That's right. I'm calling you out Steve/DaPheel. Step up your games.

Anyway... let's get on the subject of flatulence.

I'm talking about farts people. Ripping. Cuttin' cheese. Bustin' ass. Stepping on a toad. Southerly wind. Barking spiders (some guy at the golf course told me that one).

Since the beginning of time, people from all walks of life have been farting. And since around that same time, people have been loving it. In the middle ages, loudly breaking wind was an act of appreciation to the housewife. Martin Luther is quoted as supposedly having said Warum rülpset und furzet ihr nicht, hat es euch denn nicht geschmecket? ("Why don't you belch and fart, did you not enjoy the meal?").

While farting has turned from complimentary to offensive, it has managed to maintain its entertainment value. The dizzying array of exit rumbles and intoxicating odors are more than enough to arouse a chuckle/guffaw in those standing witness to the act.

To a fart, age is just a number. The humor of flatulence is appreciated not only by the developing minds of 5 year olds, but by men and women of all ages. Laughing at a fart is not a sign of immaturity; it is the litmus test for a rich and well developed sense of humor.

Other than its "offensive" odor, I find the fart's classification as offensive to be ridiculous. Some of my best childhood memories involve an amazing act of flatulence. I specifically recall three incidences.

1. SSR; sustained silent reading, 6th grade. I was reading one of those My Teacher is a Vampire books, when my stomach started to gurgle. Before I knew it, I had farted so loud that everyone was laughing, including Mr. Yoder. The only person not to laugh was Kevin Dugan, so everyone assumed him to be the "perpetrator." He adamately denied. I never owned up to the fart; a sign of my immaturity. Now, I would own up to that right away.

2. Gym Class; push up test, 5th grade. The constant and rapid abdominal contractions began to play games with my intestinal tract, and I involuntarily "busted ass." With Ms. Ogden standing close, and one of my classmates holding my ankles, there was no hiding. Again, another fairly silent situation with a very loud fart.

3. Babe Ruth Baseball, 7th grade. First team meeting of the season, and Mr. Laird was talking. I farted. Soon there after, I ran a lap.

I encourage you to comment and leave stories of your best work. Michelle, I know you have some stories to contribute. Let's shed the stigma and make the fart an "okay" thing again. Its humor has sustained us as a people for thousands and years, and it is just wrong that it is now considered offensive.

With the current talks of immigration reform their has been widespread protest by Mexican students with walkouts, carrying around Mexico’s flags etc. A school district in San Diego decided to deal with this by banning all patriotic symbols. This includes no red white and blue American clothing and American flags.

Clearly someone needs to be reminded of what country they live in. This is THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. You can’t ban American clothing in America. Anyone who tries to tell somebody they aren’t allowed to wear patriotic clothing or wave flags is a total assclown. Thousands of men did not die for this country so some jackass school district can ban American symbols because Mexican students are getting out of hand in their protest to keep illegal immigrants in this country.

I don't understand why these Mexican students are taunting American students with their flag, if they want to wave their flag to taunt rather then to be proud of their heritage then maybe they should move back to Mexico where they can wave their flag all day long. What exactly are they taunting? If Mexico is so much better than America then why leave? And who can blame the American students for responding?

Regardless of why the ban happened whoever idea this was is clearly some sort of functioning retard. This makes me sicker then the terd on the ceiling in the bathroom at my school. This is America people, we are allowed to be patriotic, and anyone who disagrees should get a flag shoved directly in their asshole. People living in this country should be allowed to show their pride all day every day. This is an insult to anyone who has served for this country, gave their life for this country, and this country’s founding fathers.

God Bless America

If you are a male at BASH, and have urinated or had a bowel movement at school recently, you may have noticed an extraordinary amount of graffiti on the walls, urinals, stall doors, and toilet paper dispensers. While this is nothing unusual, a reoccuring "artist" has caught my eye.

He, as Coach Ron Zieber would say, is a master of brevity. He writes nothing of substance, yet his graffiti is as powerful as any at BASH. We know little of this man other than his handle... The Bathroom Scribe.

The Bathroom Scribe has left his John Hancock in just about every bathroom in the school. After seeing his work in the third floor bathroom, Steve and I became very intrigued. So intrigued that we both left messages in the 500's hall bathroom requesting a formal meeting. To date, we have not been given a RSVP, but today, we may have received a little message.

While taking a "bruntz" during 8th period today, an attempt was made on my life... sort of. As I sat peacefully in the handicap stall, a wet wad of toilet paper came flying at an amazing trajectory (considering it was thrown from 4 stalls adjacent to mine, which would require a decent amount of arch) and nearly hit my hand. Before I could respond, I heard the perpetrator leave the lav. Was it merely a special needs child upset that an able bodied person was using the handicap stall? Unlikely. Could it have been a bathroom scribe worried he may be found out? I'll let you decide.

This incident aside, another heinous act drew the attention of many today. While inspecting the scribe's work, Steve noticed something hanging from the ceiling about 500's hall bathroom stall #1. This object, which was confirmed after extensive examination, was a turd. Shock resonated down the hall, as no one (not even the vulgar and raunchy Mrs. Kummerer) could believe someone could do something so outrageous. Who could have done such a thing? Who would have the brass to either reach into the toiler, or catch a falling turd in some TP? We can only speculate, but a particular bathroom scribe has shown tendencies to lead us to a conclusion involving him.

If the scribe frequents this webpage, please, show yourself on Friday, 9th period. Steve and I will be there, in stalls #4 and #3 respectively, and will not come out if you wish to remain anonymous. Despite your vulgarity and apparent attempted assult on myself, we still respect you. Your dedication to bathroom graffiti is unrivaled, and we think you deserve some props. Be not afraid. We only wish to comend, not condemn you and your work. So please, TBS, Friday...9th period. Be there... We are your friends.

Today, I watched a film preview that drew countless emotions out from deep within my soul. I laughed... I cried... I smiled... I said "what the fuck?"

The movie of which I speak is entitled, "Snakes on a Plane," starring none other than box office sensation, Samuel L. Jackson.

Regardless of its star studded cast, I can tell you right now that this movie will be absolutely terrible. The plot, according to IMDB.com, goes a little something like this...

On board a flight over the Pacific Ocean, an assassin, bent on killing a passenger who's a witness in protective custody, lets loose a crate full of deadly snakes.

Whoa... I don't know what is worse; the plot or the title? Snakes on a Plane? Jesus Christ. You're giving away the entire plot in the title. That's like calling "Smokey and the Bandit" "Burt Reynolds Looking Incredible" or changing "Brokeback Mountain" to "Two Guys Doing it in the Butt."

The thing that gets me is that the reason Samuel L. signed on to the project was because of the name. Apparently, Jackson threatened to quit when filmmakers tried to change the title to "Flight 121"....

Oh how the mighty have fallen... Aside from the usual ESPY appearance, "Pulp Fiction," "Jackie Brown," "Coach Carter," and even "Jurassic Park," his career decisions have been terrible. The Man????... xXx State of the Union???? ....Deep Blue Sea!?!?!?!

...and now, to choose a film based on a title that gives the entire plot of the movie away? Come on Sammy.

Anyway, this movie looks absolutely terrible, but yet I am intrigued. I see it as a possible option for future bad movie nights because I'm sure it will be on DVD/VHS very soon.

According to Sam:

Snakes on a Plane is, uh, pretty much what it sounds like. I wanted to do films sometimes that excited me when I was a kid and I always liked horror and adventure movies, and when I opened the cover on that particular script and it said "Snakes on a Plane" I was immediately viscerally struck with it. Oh yeah. It turned out to be exactly what I thought. Somebody turns loose a big crateload of poisonous snakes on an airplane and we have to fight the snakes until we get to our destination. It's just one of those popcorn kind of moments where you know you're goin' to a movie, you don't have to think about what's happening, you know what's gonna happen. There are going to be snakes loose on this plane, some people are going to get bitten, there's gonna be some victims, and you hope you're a survivor. You just want to have that experience and excite people who are sittin' there watchin' it. People who are afraid of flying and afraid of snakes are going to have like a double-whammy goin' with that. It's kinda going to be great.

By "It's kinda going to be great" Samuel must have meant "this has the possibility of being the best bad movie of all time." We'll all find out soon enough, as "Snake on a Plane" hits theaters this summer.