One thing that will never not be funny, is farting. I will never, and I mean never stop laughing at farts. Sorry, I am a child. They are the most convincing proof of a kind God. I love them.
Another thing I like doing is making people smell my farts, because not only do they make a funny sound, they also make a funny smell - two jokes for the price of bum. And thankfully, it turns out that I may have a scientific excuse to do this in the future - I cannot be fart-shamed.
Researchers at the University of Exeter carried out some very important experiments in fart-analysis, and have found something very interesting.
Dr. Mark Wood said: “Although hydrogen sulfide is well known as a pungent, foul-smelling gas in rotten eggs and flatulence, it is naturally produced in the body and could in fact be a healthcare hero with significant implications for future therapies for a variety of diseases.”
Hydrogen sulfide is what makes your guffs pong, but it also has various health benefits. The researchers reckon that it could lessen the risk of various life threatening illnesses like cancer, heart attacks and strokes, as well as preventing arthritis and dementia in old age. It also helps to preserve mitochondria, which in turn helps drive energy production in blood vessel cells and keep tabs on inflammation.
A fart a day keeps the doctor away, basically.
Professor Matt Whiteman added: “When cells become stressed by disease, they draw in enzymes to generate minute quantities of hydrogen sulfide.
“This keeps the mitochondria ticking over and allows cells to live. If this doesn’t happen, the cells die and lose the ability to regulate survival and control inflammation.
“We have exploited this natural process by making a compound, called AP39, which slowly delivers very small amounts of this gas specifically to the mitochondria.
“Our results indicate that if stressed cells are treated with AP39, mitochondria are protected and cells stay alive.”
All very promising to me and my bum, isn’t it. So fart away, basically - pop out a swift series of grunts and waft the eggs into your mates’ faces. Trump a big honker out and gust it over to your wife. Squat over your office desk-fan and flop out a howling woofty. Pump out a gnarly season of blow-offs into a trombone and swing it round the bus. You’re not being childish, you’re being ‘a doctor’.
They’ll thank you in the long run.
More like PONG run, innit? Isn’t it? ISN’T IT MORE LIKE PONG RUN.