I have a cd player in my car that I listen to on the way home from work. I rarely listen to it on the way to work because the cd's that I burn myself are usually filled with hard rock or heavy metal or incredibly obnoxious songs like 'Lemon Tree' as sung by Peter Paul and Mary. It's ok on the way home, but on the way to work in the morning I am usually still a bit groggy and prefer the quiet.
Well, the other day I was reading a 'something awful' section about obnoxious customers. For some reason one particularly idiotic comment got stuck in my brain. It read:
I'm working the drive-through two nights ago at Burger King, and a fat guy in a van rolls up and orders a bunch of shit, including an order of chili. He gets to the window, money exchanges hands and he asks me, "Is that chili good for farting?"
I heard him pretty clearly, but part of my brain told me that under no circumstances could this person actually be asking me if our chili was a top-shelf selection for intentional flatulance. So I say, "Pardon me?" "Is that chili good for farting?" I hesitate a second before replying with, "Possibly."
I understand that he was just trying to be funny, "Chili makes you fart hurr hurr," but goddamn that joke was terrible.
Now, for whatever reason, that 'Hurr Hurr' got stuck in my brain. On the way to work this morning, since it was quiet and I was not lsitening to any music, I started saying it to myself in the most slovenly ignorant backwoods voice I could muster. Each time I said it I then immediately burst out in a cackle of laughter. I did this repeatedly, each time my 'Huurrr' getting more drawn out and the laugher getting stronger. It was not until my eyes started to tear up and I noticed some morning commuter in the car next to me ogling me suspiciously that I realized what I was doing.
What's particularly sad is that, so far, I think it was the best part of my day.
So, I am insane.
Hurrr!
2026 Update
Dialing back to 2007, where Ed's commute is powered by burned CDs and a single awful joke.
Nineteen years later, and I have to say: the car has changed. That CD player is now a touchscreen or a phone mount, and your carefully burned mix of hard rock and 'Lemon Tree' would be a playlist with a thumbnail. The drive-through itself is half app-ordering and half kiosk, and the human interaction you captured — a cashier actually hearing 'Is that chili good for farting?' — has been replaced by a screen asking if you want extra napkins. The 'something awful' forum where you found that gem is gone, dissolved into comment sections and video replies. And the quiet morning commute you treasured? Now everyone is either on a podcast or screaming at a dashboard. But the deepest change, 2007 Ed, is that your private 'Hurrr' loop would not stay private. There would be a dashcam, a phone camera, or at least a social media post about the guy cackling at a red light. The world records everything now, and your insanity would be content.
“2007 Ed, did you ever stop to wonder whether 'Hurrr' was worth the strange looks from the commuter, or did you just double down and keep cackling until you got home?” — Beelzebubba the Third
2007 Ed: Well, Beelzebubba, I'd like to say I pulled over and had a long think about the wisdom of cackling 'Hurrr' at a red light, but no. I saw that commuter staring, and for one split second I felt the hot shame of a man caught talking to himself in traffic. Then I decided, hell, he probably thought I was on a hands-free thing, or just another Florida weirdo, which I am. So I double downed. I rolled the window up, waited for the next stoplight, and let out a nice long 'Huuuurrr' just for me. Tears streaming, shoulders shaking, the whole pathetic show. By the time I got home I'd almost forgotten why I was laughing, but I felt great. So was it worth the strange looks? Hell yes. Best commute I'd had all week. Hurrr.
