If You’re Reading This, Then It Means I Died From Holding In My Farts At Work All Day

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I switched to my standing desk and tried to stay busy. I followed up on a sales deck, scheduled stakeholder interviews, planned a discovery session, but nothing WHEWWWDANG could distract me from the farts multiplying inside. I couldn’t take the mounting pressure, so I went for a walk. I thought of you and our children as I desperately tried to pass gas along the riverwalk, but Craig from Accounts was down there and joined me, and the whole thing was a nightmare.I tried to fart so many times, honey, I promise! Between meetings, I escaped to the bathroom whenever I could, but oooofffenbags every time I was on the cusp of farting, my boss Jack would come in and say, “Ha, guess we’re on the same schedule!” I know I should’ve farted anyway, Cheryl. Heck! We were in the bathroom! But I’m a coward, and I didn’t think things would get this bad.Here’s where everything went wrong: at a 3:30 insights download meeting. I walked into the silent conference room and was absolutely surrounded by colleagues. As soon as I ooooof CRIPESAMOLY sat down, my gas expanded at an alarming rate, cramping on my right side, then my left. I was fully loaded and needed to let the cannon loose, and oh God, Cheryl, please forgive me! I just couldn’t bring myself to fart in front of the people I work with every day!I know it’s selfish of me, leaving you and Petey and Phoebe behind like this, but you’ll be alright. You’ve always been the strong one, and I’m oooooofffaaa sorry we never made it to Hawaii together, but I still want you to go. Take the kids and your friend Brenda and bike the Ohana Trail and live your dreams, my love! Life

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’s too shoooooortOHMYGOOUURD.To my sweet son, Petey, keep practicing your free throws and if you don’t want to go out for basketball next year, you don’t have to. You should do what brings you joy! Whether that’s music or painting or climbing or ooooooof RICKYDICKYDINGUS just follow your heart, son.To my fearless daughter, Phoebe, give em hell, sweetheart! Never back down and keep wailing on that Gibson of yours and oooooof you’ll be headlining Madison Square Garden in no time. Just remember it’s okay to be vulnerable and share your feelings and you don’t always have to AWWWCRIMINYSAKES be so tough.To Brock, my best man and my best UUUUFFFFFFDA friend, thanks for always being there and for sharing life’s roller coaster with me. I’ll miss our fishing trips and seeing our kids grow up together and OSWEETBARRACUDAS I love you, man!To HR, please, oooof we need to make some workplace changes, starting with an open fart policy so we don’t T-T-T-T-TURNITUP feel ashamed to fart in front of each other in the first place. This will save lives.To Dr. Shoore, well, here we are. I told you this would ooooof CRIPES-ON-A-LOG happen and you said, and I quote, “Ha! Explode from your farts?! You’re crazy!” May you carry this guilt with you forever.I’m fading fast, dear ones. My stomach is HOLYHOTBAGS trumpeting in distress and my colleagues have gathered round me at the foot of this conference table. It won’t be long now, so please, remember me for the man I was and not for the farts I held in.Yours oooooofffaaaalways, Chase / Daddy</article></body>

If You’re Reading This, Then It Means I Died From Holding In My Farts At Work All Day

To whom it may concern:

If you’ve found this letter, then I must be dead, and I’m afraid I know why. The farts I’ve been holding in at work all day have finally burst through my insides and caused massive internal bleeding. I knew this day would come, I just didn’t realize how soon.

I’m…ooof…in a lot of pain, as you can imagine, but my spirits are high and I’m not afraid. It’s just, I don’t want to die from the farts I’m holding in at work without saying goodbye to my family and friends. So could you please make sure they get this message oooooof and that they know I love them?

To my dear wife, Cheryl, you are my ooooof everything and I hate leaving you like this. I’m sure the shock of my passing is only just setting in, but I want you to know I did everything I could to stop it from oooof CHRISTALMIGHTY happening, aside from actually farting in front of my colleagues. I ate crackers and peanut butter for lunch — no baked beans or fancy kale salads, just like you said. But, like clockwork, around 1:18, my stomach started cramping.

I switched to my standing desk and tried to stay busy. I followed up on a sales deck, scheduled stakeholder interviews, planned a discovery session, but nothing WHEWWWDANG could distract me from the farts multiplying inside. I couldn’t take the mounting pressure, so I went for a walk. I thought of you and our children as I desperately tried to pass gas along the riverwalk, but Craig from Accounts was down there and joined me, and the whole thing was a nightmare.

I tried to fart so many times, honey, I promise! Between meetings, I escaped to the bathroom whenever I could, but oooofffenbags every time I was on the cusp of farting, my boss Jack would come in and say, “Ha, guess we’re on the same schedule!” I know I should’ve farted anyway, Cheryl. Heck! We were in the bathroom! But I’m a coward, and I didn’t think things would get this bad.

Here’s where everything went wrong: at a 3:30 insights download meeting. I walked into the silent conference room and was absolutely surrounded by colleagues. As soon as I ooooof CRIPESAMOLY sat down, my gas expanded at an alarming rate, cramping on my right side, then my left. I was fully loaded and needed to let the cannon loose, and oh God, Cheryl, please forgive me! I just couldn’t bring myself to fart in front of the people I work with every day!

I know it’s selfish of me, leaving you and Petey and Phoebe behind like this, but you’ll be alright. You’ve always been the strong one, and I’m oooooofffaaa sorry we never made it to Hawaii together, but I still want you to go. Take the kids and your friend Brenda and bike the Ohana Trail and live your dreams, my love! Life’s too shoooooortOHMYGOOUURD.

To my sweet son, Petey, keep practicing your free throws and if you don’t want to go out for basketball next year, you don’t have to. You should do what brings you joy! Whether that’s music or painting or climbing or ooooooof RICKYDICKYDINGUS just follow your heart, son.

To my fearless daughter, Phoebe, give em hell, sweetheart! Never back down and keep wailing on that Gibson of yours and oooooof you’ll be headlining Madison Square Garden in no time. Just remember it’s okay to be vulnerable and share your feelings and you don’t always have to AWWWCRIMINYSAKES be so tough.

To Brock, my best man and my best UUUUFFFFFFDA friend, thanks for always being there and for sharing life’s roller coaster with me. I’ll miss our fishing trips and seeing our kids grow up together and OSWEETBARRACUDAS I love you, man!

To HR, please, oooof we need to make some workplace changes, starting with an open fart policy so we don’t T-T-T-T-TURNITUP feel ashamed to fart in front of each other in the first place. This will save lives.

To Dr. Shoore, well, here we are. I told you this would ooooof CRIPES-ON-A-LOG happen and you said, and I quote, “Ha! Explode from your farts?! You’re crazy!” May you carry this guilt with you forever.

I’m fading fast, dear ones. My stomach is HOLYHOTBAGS trumpeting in distress and my colleagues have gathered round me at the foot of this conference table. It won’t be long now, so please, remember me for the man I was and not for the farts I held in.

Yours oooooofffaaaalways, Chase / Daddy