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The Daily Bull Smelt It

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pull my finger

Mark J. Rebilas-USA TODAY Sports

We have entered the nadir of the off season. Football is a distant memory, and basketball has made a later-than-usual exit. All we have now to sustain us is baseball, but at least those guys are completely badass.

We could talk about the NFL draft, or scheduling, or uniforms, or recruiting, or coaching carousels, or a litany of other tangential and wholly dull sports topics.

Or we could talk about farting. Let's talk about farting instead.

Specifically Von Miller - number one in our hearts, number one in his farts. The world's most tackley chicken farmer is also a very prolific tootsmith, generating enough ass gas to warrant a $100 fine from his partner on Dancing With The Stars for each thunderclap.

You wanna know how successful Von Miller is? Don't look at houses or cars or acreage of free-range chickens on webcams. Look at the fact that he can rattle the windows of a dance studio to the tune of hundreds of dollars a day and just laugh it off. He is figuratively blowing money out of his ass.

And also a beautiful woman laughs, too. That's the difference between an average schmuck and an NFL superstar. He tosses Benjamin's around as payment for his crop dusting as beautiful women laugh at his antics. You apologize to the minister for fumigating the baptism while your wife edges ever so slightly closer to divorce.

The next time you reap the whirlwind just remember that maybe if you had worked harder at two-a-days in the summer you'd be wiping your watering eyes with hundos instead of apologizing to the VP of sales while wishing that you had hit mute on the conference call.