Do You Think It’s Possible To Mistake A Ghost For The World’s First Visible Fart?

I once accidentally mistook a ghost for the world’s first visible fart. I see this mostly transparent cloud-shaped mass, a meter in diameter, white or light gray in color, slowly coming my way in a motion not unlike that of smoke or vapor, and I’m like, “Holy fuck! It’s a fart! And I can SEE it!” followed by, “Incoming!” as the cloud neared by face.

When it reached my nose, I inhaled heartily but ultimately received only ambivalence; I was disheartened as there was no aroma to this outre anal emission with the striking visual presence. I was also pleased, however, because I had no desire to actually smell a fart–especially one of unidentified composition and origin. I only tried to smell it for science.

Immediately after I failed to detect a smell, I knew what I was dealing with. This was obviously some new, top-secret prototype fart–visible AND odorless. Holy fuck. This is revolutionary. But who could possess such technology? Who could possibly procure and develop the knowledge and resources to make a fart visible AND odorless? It can’t be academia. The military? Possibly. Or perhaps in that case, whose military? This has to be some black ops, DARPA shit.

I was elated as great wonder and curiosity alike engulfed me. This elation would soon very quickly disintegrate into disappointment as, little did I know, this was not the world’s first visible fart but in fact a ghost.

When I say ghost, I mean ghost as in the corporeal or otherwise physical form of a person’s undead spirit trapped in or forced to wander our world’s plane of existence. In other words, totally not a fart and very far from it. I fucked up, and I admit this. But before I continue, let me just say that most people don’t know this, (I didn’t at the time but would soon learn) but the reason I didn’t smell anything when the “fart” hit my nose is because ghosts only come in two scents: burnt popcorn and original–which is unscented. This particular ghost happened to be of the unscented variety.

Anyway, it didn’t take long for the ghost to notice my reaction wasn’t quite the typical response to forced interaction with a supernatural entity. I’m sure then he only needed a few seconds to see the whole picture, as I was totally oblivious that this was anything other than a singular gas of the ass-passed variety. He, the ghost, was probably watching me the entire time. I assume when the ghost witnessed me nonchalantly yet with vigor inhaling him through my nose, first came confusion. Confusion was probably followed by a rapid series of thoughts executed autonomously in an attempt to rationalize or make sense of what just occurred–something along the lines of, “This motherfucker DOES NOT think I’m a fart. No way. Does he? OMG, this motherfucker TOTALLY thinks I’m a fart! Ah hell naw!” Then I bet thought quickly gave way to escalating anger, perhaps even crescendoing into a brief instant of pure, unmitigated rage, followed immediately by more regular anger and some disgust thrown in there, too.

Regardless, soon enough, the gig was up, because when the ghost found out I mistook him for that which is practically useless, universally despised, and perniciously scented–a mere fart fired from the asshole (often inadvertently in conjunction with surprise solid matter), dude was PISSED.

He motherfucked me for about five minutes straight, talking about how, “being a ghost is not a vocation but a lifestyle,” and, “if there’s anything being a ghost isn’t, it’s EASY. Or fulfilling on a deeper level.”

And then some shit about, “Do I even understand the gravity of my error?” because something like, “a lot of work and pride are associated with appearances,” and that he was, “appalled by my flagrant and careless social, symbolic, and cultural ignorance,” and that, “anyone NOT capable of distinguishing a ghost from a fart is either a bigot, a dumbass, or literally has no eyeballs.”

Dude kept going ON about some shit “reducing him to mere pungent methane vapors, of anal origin nonetheless, was egregious and insulting to hard-working otherworldly entities everywhere.”

I’m thinking to myself the whole time, “Come onnnnnnn, dude! I’m sorryyyy. Just let it the fuck go and relaxxxxxx! Shit was an accident.”

Eventually he stopped yelling, which, like I said, only took basically FOREVER, plus a few. Anyway, he ceased his rant, and I told him to fuck off; specifically,”Hey. Fuck off.”

Also, I said it was an honest mistake and that he’s mighty lucky buttholes only work in one direction–blowing gas out–otherwise I’d suck his fart-looking-ass right up MY poop chute with the speed and force of a Dyson vacuum and make him my smelly fart bitch forever in my colon dungeon. Or until I got bored and released him.

In conclusion, I’m not naturally or inherently a bigot, but I feel like most ghosts are dickheads. Does this make me a bigot?

Was I wrong for mistaking the ghost for the world’s first visible fart? And was this racist? Furthermore, am I inherently racist or bigoted simply BECAUSE I mistook the ghost for a visible fart?

If not racist, was it RUDE of me to incorrectly identify the ghost as rectal vapor?

Did I owe the ghost an apology? Or was it just an honest mistake?

Perhaps the ghost even overreacted?

Well, I’ll tell you what. Things are a lot more complex in 2019 than they used to be. I remember when a fart was a fart and an apparition was an apparition. You didn’t get a rude or contentious response from the Headless Horseman or the ghosts of George Burns or Ritchie Valens because you assumed they used or identified with a particular set of pronouns without bothering to inquire. Even my Great Uncle Angus, who’s been haunting the local VFW regularly since he died decades ago in  the Korean War, is genderfluid now. I mean it’s a shame that he had to wait until nearly seventy years AFTER HE DIED to realize his gender was so versatile, but I suppose sometimes just getting there is all that matters.

Anyway, next time you smell burnt popcorn but no one’s making any, or if you spot a fart that’s unconventional in visual nature coming your way, RUN. It’s probably a ghost and therefore a miserable, misanthropic fuck just looking to shit on your rainbow.

End.