Okay, I stand corrected: "Dude, some bitch TOTALLY farted in my all-women Pilates class, where we're taught to inhale through our noses. It was rancid. She better hope I don't find out who she is, or else I'll eat a can of chili and sauerkraut and chug a 2 liter of Diet Coke right before class and get directly in front of her face when we do the Downward-Facing Dog pose." --Penny.

But, you see, Gentle Readers, the above-recounted flatulence was most heinously committed in a group of all women, and it would surely be denied if men sought verification from the perpetrator herself! So is it just that women are utterly unable (I believe the fact that they are unwilling to do so goes without saying) to fart when in the presence of men? Anyone? Anyone?

This runs contrary to the behavior of most, if not all, men who find themselves in similar situations. The typical man, if so confronted, will NOT ONLY admit to said gaseous perpetration, he will ACTUALLY GLOAT, and BE PROUD of it! This behavior is often accompanied by a sly look from the corner of the eye, a twirling of the mustache, and subdued, maniacal chuckling. So, if you see a group of men standing or sitting together, and all but one of them shows various signs of respiratory distress and/or nausea, while the remaining gent has what can best be decribed as a shit-eating grin, invite all those accompanying you to make a wager with you on what just happened. You will fleece them dry. (Is that a mixed metaphor? maybe so, but who cares?)