Finally, your inconsiderate ass will be judged for it's sins.

Tonight I was sitting around with my cousin, getting my ass beat in some Madden 08, when he ripped ass. He is 13, and it reeked of death. Now, do I find it interesting that this 13 year old boy deemed it appropriate to put the proverbial cherry on top of his victory by damn near shitting his pants in a well concealed room where I was the only other person in there? Hell no. I've executed that move many of times in my day. It was a mean thing to do, but I guess karma really is a bitch.

But there was something interesting that came from his action. It was what he did to announce the releasing of his ass gas that made me step back (ok, thats not entirely true. I was consumed a mushroom cloud of skunkness. Not good business). After he farted, he looked at me with a boyish grin and simply said, "safety." Huh?!?

Quickly, I have to point out a couple things before we continue. 1, he is 13, I am damn near 23. 2, I grew up in a little known town called White Salmon, which is located on the Columbia River in Washington. He is going to school in Ventura California. 

Now back to the importance of the six letters that followed his fart. When I was about his age, my buddies and I played a game where when you farted you were immediately supposed to follow it by saying "safety". If you didn't, and one of your buddies that were with you said "doorknob"  and he was allowed to beat the holy hell out of you until you reached a doorknob. Good times, and fun for the whole family this game was. Well, unless you were the poor bastard who ripped ass on the bus coming home from an away game. There are no door knobs on the freeway.

So when Eddie said safety to acknowledge that he had farted, I immediately had to clarify what he had said. He confirmed that him and his buddies play the game too.

WHAT?!!??! Up until now, I had always thought of that game being a White Salmon inside joke. My world was rocked. I had to get confirmation. I had to find out if this game was actually a universal right of passage. Kind of like a flatulent version of an Indian spirt quest.  They went to find their spirit animal so they could be a man. We fart and punch our way into man hood.

The first person I called was my buddy Robby, who grew up a little bit down the river from me.  That would be a decent control to this experiment. 

"Hey man, if I said 'safety' to you...what would that mean to you?" I asked. I didn't want to give him any ideas. If you played this game, you would know. This game is as memorable as those marathon games of Monopoly.

"Oh dude, that would mean you farted and I don't get to punch you." I was in absolute shock. I even called another buddy of mine from Oregon. He confirmed knowledge of the game and it's rules. Three States! This game was real!

I bet you are asking yourself, 'whats the big deal? Why is this dude so excited over this immature game?' And you know what? I'm glad you ask stupid questions, because I like answering stupid questions (and making this blog longer)! To put it simply, the reason I'm so excited is because this game is super awesome! Thats why!

It's good for hours of excitement. Think about it. It's hot day. Super hot, and you are on a road trip with your buddies. You got the radio cranked, the air conditioning flowing, and you are singing along like you are the second coming of Bradley Nowell or something. Thats when one of your buddies decides to rudely bust ass. It smells bad, like he shit his pants. To make things worse, it has joined forces with the air conditioning and now you have a mouth full of flatulence. 

Uh oh! Your buddy didn't call 'safety'. Being that the major rule of the game is to punish such a over sight, you call 'doorknob' (again,  in order for him to keep from getting his arm bruised up, he has to find a doorknob) but he is in a car. There are no doorknobs. Now you get to beat on him until he finds an acceptable piss stop. So not only do you get revenge for his foul play, but you get to take some good body punches on him. See my point? This is always good for solid 'B+' on the ol' fun scale.

If you don't see the fun in this, chances are you are a chick (and no one values your opinion) or you are fictional male that a chick made up to make an argument against the merits of this game. In English, EVERY ONE (who counts) WILL LOVE THIS GAME! Milton Bradley should've put a copyright on it when they had the chance. Snooze you loose bitch, enjoy coming up with your 90 million'th Monopoly game. 

The next day I couldn't wait to call one of my buddies who I grew up with. Rob ( not to be confused with Robby) was a legend at this game. Always aware of his surroundings to find the closest doorknob, and he had what should be described as a sixth sense for judging where a fart originated. I got my ass pounded on many a times by this all star. 

I had to tell Rob that this game was real.

"Bro, remember the doorknob game?" I asked after a solid 20 minutes of fantasy basketball talk.

"Yeah man," Rob replied. You could hear the obvious fondness for the old game.

"Did you know other people play that game?" I went on to tell him about my findings. About my cousin, and my buddies from other towns. He was obviously ecstatic. I told you, this game is special.

" Oh man. That game was fun. Why did we ever stop playing? We should bring it back." He said. And you know what? I totally agree. "Safety."