As a part of Shart Week, we’re recognizing some of the all time great sharters by immortalizing them in our Shart Hall of Fame.

Our final entrant is perhaps our most deserving.  We’ve already acknowledged his contributions to Shart media and awareness, but saved his actual induction for last.  The champ always goes on last, after all.

Phillip Seymour Hoffman is not just the Jackie Robinson of Shart culture; he may be the Babe Ruth, Ty Cobb, Cy Young, and Barry Bonds all rolled into one, then sharted out the back of the classiest pair of pants you’ve ever worn.

Mr. Hoffman not only drinks for free during Shart Week, he owns the bar.

Mr. Hoffman sharts in the woods, and there’s no one around? We not only hear it, we feel it. Might even smell it, depending on what he ate. That smell? Roses.

If there was an asteroid on a trajectory to collide with Earth, and once it hit all life from this planet was extinguished, then a millenium later an alien culture discovered the last existing fragment of Earth floating through the dark recesses of space, that fragment would probably be a flash drive containing Mr. Hoffman’s shart scene in Along Came Polly. Seventeen percent chance it actually contains the whole movie. Five percent chance it contains his entire filmography.

The point is, Mr. Hoffman isn’t just the last inductee to the Shart Hall of Fame; he IS the Shart Hall of Fame. The PSH Remembrance Wing will not only feature Mr. Hoffman’s Hall of Fame plaque, bust, and memorabilia, but a living museum dedicated to all shart culture. Admission will be free.

So Mr. Hoffman, you go ahead and treat any fart like it’s Shart Week.  Hell, you treat Shart Week any way you want.  

We couldn’t have done it without you.