It is normal for me to take lunch at a Chinese, but a couple of weeks ago I realised more than usual I had a whiff about me. A kind of pong was going on. I'm sure it was related to the ingredients in the chicken and black bean sauce on steamed rice. There is also garlic and chilli in this dish, but the pong was probably generated by the rice. I believe rice is the food of farts. Or it is for certain western people, or maybe as said earlier it's the combination of ingredients. So this week I began an experiment, but it was not just centred on this major culprit, I did my very best to hit every white carbohydrate which normally passed my lips. To try and find an alternative, which ultimately came down to brown bread sandwiches or rather my favourite of brown breads being malted granary. It's got grains in it and has a nice slightly nutty chewy texture. Every breakfast would be some kind of toast from this bread. Lunchtimes were also brown bread sandwiches, I must admit though I personally don't like eating sandwiches all the time, but this experiment meant I had no alternative. I had to keep to it as closely as possible. Figuring it would take maybe two to three days for the old food and effects to go through the digestive process. Fortunately it was closer to one to two days.
The results were amazing, I mean absolutely amazing. A significant decrease in the number of farts. My breath didn't have a garlic like whiff to it after lunch, because I wasn't eating garlic any more. At night time I am prone to a few blistering explosions in the bed. These had nearly stopped, I was changing, no longer the epitome advert of a middle aged man with the farts, grumpy, moaning and always best to keep a few yards from. Yet at the same time I am fighting an addiction and love of carbohydrates. I love pastries, the occasional white bread bit of toast, cakes and biscuits (which I just about keep at bay) and many other carb foods. Yet being in love with these foods is not socially acceptable, particularly if ever enclosed in a small space and feeling the urge to flatulent behaviour; it's the old lift (elevator) scenario I'm thinking about - where we have all been. Farting means those people who are the closest to you suffer. Unless they have some kind of sinus problem. It also means if you spend a lot of time undisturbed in a room then walk out of it and return you notice an invisible pong sits there. Effectively you have been stewing in your own farty smell and not just breathing it, it has seeped into your clothes. Your odour is no longer a high class EDT product nice to smell and attractant to others or so the adverts say, but rather one fat old and loyal dogs have near the end of their life, or cats. I remember Tiggy, he was a beautiful affection cat, but if you squeezed him to hard or he just sat around you purring for too long soon you'd realise his silent farts were as bad as your own. Hetty's dog Barney was another example, he'd just lay on the floor nearby, occasionally wag his tail and occasionally drop a stink bomb. I loved them both very much, more than anything in the world yet sometimes loving a pet can mean having to put up with a lot. So the evaporation or greatly reduced smell around me was noticeable, certainly to me so I expect it may have been of notice to others as well.
There is only one solution and it is one which I don't like to ponder on too much. I have to give up on the high carbs. Closely examine the glycemic index and fight my own addiction to food I have been brought up on. Which at times is like trying to fight a sneeze. It's not easy, definitely not easy. I'm sure it is to do with the conversion of sugars during digestion and blood sugar levels, with this is the need to diet and exercise. Words which are like garlic and holly water to a vampire. I truly think controlling food intake and living a healthy life is probably the most difficult thing to do in the modern day. Just looking at the bulletin boards of people affected by this phenomenon leads me to know I am not alone, if only I had a buddy I could talk to whenever the urge grabbed me, like an emergency service number. But it seems with the number of fat farty people about these are rare individuals. The thing is you need someone who has been through the same experiences as you have, not one of those hypocritical skinny people who has never felt the cravings of a carb addition, not someone who has never experienced stuffing their face and still wanting more. I need to stop this rant and get out for my Sunday walk, which is late now. At least outside I know there is a lot of fresh air. This room is starting to get a little stuffy.
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