“Today at the chili cook off, I farted on your friend. I’m just kind of embarassed, so I wanted to write and apologize. I was really drunk, and your friend was just babbling on like a pretentious asshole. He was carrying on about being a trumpeteer for B.B. King or some shit… It was just the way he said it, so I turned around and farted on him. At the time I thought it was funny, but now I can’t help but be embarrassed… So, I’m sorry if I offended you or your friend.”

I wrote this email roughly 6 years ago. I was at the chili cook off with a friend, as you may have read. We ran into a friend of his who had previously been on tour with BB King playing trumpet. I don’t remember the details of this encounter any more, as it was years and many brain cells ago. I do remember it being quite a bit like the scene from Seinfeld where Jerry and Elaine are stuck at the party while George is out getting laid, and that woman keeps saying, “Where is my fee-ahn-SAY? I must find my fee-ahn-SAY! The poor baby is lost! Have you seen my fee-ahn-SAY?” and Elaine says, “Maybe a dingo ate your baby.”

It was a lot like that, but instead of a snappy remark, I remember just turning my back to him mid-sentence and rattling off a thunderclap. I remember that the guy stopped talking, as did others, and I just walked off chuckling in a drunken, devious kind of way. But, seriously, how many times can one jerk off asswipe say the letters “BB” in one conversation? “So, there I was with BB, and he looks over at me, and I knew RIGHT where BB was going with that. So, I hit a sharp E and BB just grinned at me and came right back.”

Anyway, the reason this email came back to me is that after I sent it, my buddy, being the kind of jerk off that he is, realized that by me apologizing for farting on a guy, I was WAY more lame than I would’ve been had I just farted on him and let it go. He put that email into some sort of automailer that sent that very same email to me every Monday for four years.

About two years ago, the mailer stopped and I had completely forgotten about it. This morning, guess what was waiting for me in my mailbox? An April Fool’s Day surprise? Goddammit…

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