Gold Star for you Cougar 🙂

I farted in the honeymoon camper van in South Island NZ. Wife woke up and asked if I had left the gas on…. Erm no love it was me. Still married before you ask.

this is funny. My car stinks of fart too. I can just about blame it on sweaty bike kit but having rarely used the car for rides in the past year, I know I’m now kidding myself.

Something reminded me of my mum’s farting. I’d be watching TV as a kid and hear a really long meandering guff from the kitchen. With riles roles reversed I’d shout “Mum!!” and all Id hear was uncontrolled laughter. My hero.

Once again the Singletrack community is able to supply the answers that the world of science is unable to provide

Mars attacks

Well, if you can whistle it…
[video]http://youtu.be/8gym81fY460[/video]

Who was the chap on here who’s son, on first day of school, walked up to teacher and asked “pull my finger….”

L.e.g.e.n.d.

(It was on the smuggling ducks thread, about farting as you climbed the stairs…)

Something in life I can honestly, proudly say, I am good at. I once had a bit of a spicy lunch, which then on the journey home, meant a major increase in hot pungent ‘cabbagy’ stench, was left in the car. Cue the missus taking the car shopping the next morning, to which I see her stood in the drive, all the doors open, after over 15hs after the event still making her gag. She drove off later on with the windows open and ……… she left me soon after !!
Current wife has sent me to the doctors recently and can say I am distraught at loosing the one ‘gift’ I have been given…. 😯

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A7ujmkLTGNM

[video]https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=UYSMm0Oj5HU[/video]

Not original, but still amusing.

running.

I can fart like mad when I’m running, one day I am actually going to poo myself

you only fart once sitting down in sweaty cycling shorts right?

I had to brave face it until we reached a supermarket and i could properly check.

Cast iron baths on concrete floors….

A few months ago whilst standing with my boss in our control room I let go a particularly vicious quack. Normally I’m loud and lengthy with little odour but today I had tapped into a seam of grade A putrefied evil. Some minor tremors earlier on alerted me to the high quality fetidness that was about to occur and it transpires that this was to be my coup de grâce. The look he gave me as the first wisps reached him was priceless and had me chuckling away like a loon as I left via the front door. As I left, the cleaning lady entered the room from the other door to find my boss engulfed in the noxious cloud. Neither said anything to each other, she assuming that he was the perpetrator of said vileness and he pretending nothing was wrong. I still find the episode hilarious but alas he hasn’t found the funny side of it yet.

There is still nothing more enjoyable than the anticipation of the first reaction after you have let out a silent but deadly. Especially when you have sneakily pulled the pop up circuit breaker for the electric windows.

My car stinks of fart too.

Long Distance Lorry Drivers Seat Syndrome. When your car seat gets chock full of smell and you can’t shift it.

A mate of mine used to delight in farting deep into a sofa and seeing the face of the next person to sit on it and dislodge the bubble of stench from it’s hiding place deep in the cushions.

One of lifes distinct pleasures, we have lots of lifts and places that hold people captive around work such as ~20sec whole body scans when leaving contam areas and even one of these bad boys outside the control room:

Makes for a good show as you wait for everyone at the lift after you take the head of the convoy. Even better if you can get another one out on the way down.

I have a minor hernia which seems to have upped the frequency and putrification factor by quite a margin, to the point where only the worst flu’s used to be able to produce such dire filth. Getting it sorted will be a loss in some respects.

Fortunately I have a very good filtering system that whilst remaining bubbly and splattery on the auidible scale produces no similar tangible effects.

Daughter is well trained; wafting, phoar-ing, giggling and finger pulling are well versed at the age of nearly two. Sadly she inherited her mothers perfume of decaying vegetables (think a humid fruit market being hosed down mid afternoon in Hong Kong).

My girlfriend once let one slip that was so unfathomably foul that she woke up and vomited in bed.

Should be the thread title.

Around ten years ago I visited the louvre in France. after walking around for a while we poped into the large room which held the Mona Lisa. As always this was packed – until my bowel produced a very short but aggressively loud fart that sounded like a mix between a gun shot and a last quick of a very large duck. The solid granite walls helped produce a nice reverb effect. The smell was a mix of ammonia and burning plastic which hung in the air for quite a while as I ” lassoooed” my way around groups of tourists 🙂

I accidently let out a sneaky one, thinking I would get away with it in our busy local after a pretty full day on the beer and Christmas dinner… Decided that it might be a good time to go outside for a bit of fresh air, all I could hear was the dismay and squealing from the girls and mates sat in the window seats and the lads behind the bar shouting “who the hell was that?” and spraying Fabreeze about.. I was popular when I walked back in with that “What???” expression on my face.. nearly got barred too.

On and on your story nearly got me evicted into the spare room for laughing so much.
That is amazing truly a fart to be proud of

I just farted in the bath, is that a poached fart?

I had tapped into a seam of grade A putrefied evil

Chuckling at this 😆

A colleague of mine walked into my office the other day for a meeting and immediately asked if something was burning. I couldn’t reply “well yes, my ringpiece as it goes” so had to suggest it must be something outside the window (which obviously hadn’t been opened hastily enough).

my car stinks of fart too

People with IBS should be able to get leather upholstery on prescription. I have to put the windows down in my wife’s car until I become accustomed.

Ozone layer has disappeared. We are all doomed.

One of my proudest moments was when I ad libbed the Steptoe and Son theme for approaching 10 seconds through farting.
The stars truly aligned for me that day.

In the local that my Dad used to frequent there was a bloke who was absolutely prolific – in all categories – stench, volume (volume), volume (sound), frequency and individual duration.

He was frequently yellow-carded and even given a couple of week long sin binning by the landlord.

Realising he was on his last warning before a possible red card, he nipped outside to let rip. Unfortunately, he had left the door open and the prevailing wind blew the whole lot back into the pub and circulated it far more widely and quickly than usual.

He eventually ended up being rushed into hospital for a twisted bowel – so I guess everyone suffers for their art.

Friend of mine has a giant schnauser named Wordsworth.

Wordsworth’s most favouritest food in the whole wide world is broccoli.

Wordsworth is not, under any circumstances, allowed broccoli.

It turns out if you eat enough Fisherman’s Friends, you get cold-feeling farts.

And the trots.

Bother.

I take the point about dog farts, they do absolutely reek and can melt furniture. Quite often my dog used to blow one off and then trot calmy away leaving me with the guff, staring at him in disbelief, filthy beast.

I just farted in the bath, is that a poached fart?

Broiled me’thinks.

As a general rule of thumb you always love your own brand, but you know you’ve done a good’un when even your own toxic gas has you gagging.

Its the non plussed look a dog gives once its had a wift of its own fart that no human can replicate. Nose (which is 10,000 times more sensitve than ours) plunged into the cabbage bomb, dead pan look and walk away. We could all probably learn a thing or two.

[video]http://youtu.be/aqCfVVkT2KI[/video]

A mate have mine had a dog he fed on a vegetarian diet. If you could capture that filthy animals eye-wateringly toxic guffs, you could weaponise them and sell them as WMD’s to dodgy Middle Eastern regimes! It could clear a house in seconds. You’d be literally sprinting outside, gasping for air!

The dog stories remind me of Scruff the student house mongrel.
He used to wake up (in kitchen), trot through to lounge, let a stinker rip, and retire back to bed in the kitchen again.
Dirty little dog.

Have to own up of occasionally farting in the dogs face when he sits on the sofa with me,,,,,feel a big guilty about his hyper sensitive sense of smell…

Still he gets his own back sometimes by sleeping on his back so I get a face full of his tackle when I turn over in bed 🙁

Best ones thou are the ones in bed where you put your head under the duvet to check out the guff….or the ones where you can do the shake the duvet a bit to get max coverage Mrs DoD goes ape…

We went to watch a day’s test cricket at Old Trafford a good few years back. My mates and I met up the night before for a skinful and a curry.

The next day he brought some of his workmates along to the cricket. I had one of those days where it felt like my lower guts had been replaced by a perpetually refilling space hopper. The workmates saw the funny side for about an hour, but it actually became something of a problem.

Years later on my mates stag do some of them came along. One of them in particular singled me out and made it clear that my farting that day had ruined it for him.

It is a source of never ending pride for me, though.

Happy parping.

or the ones where you can do the shake the duvet a bit to get max coverage Mrs DoD goes ape…

Or where the duvet hermetically seals the bed, so every time you turn over you get little nuggets of trumpette escaping throughout the night from one you dropped two hours ago. The ghosts of trouser-coughs past.

If you fart in the bath. Which is in itself inherently pleasing due to the bubbles does ones Harris inhale the water?

The old’uns are the best.

Man #1: Paaaaaaaaarp!

Man #2: How dare you fart in front of my wife.

Man #1: I really am dreadfully sorry. I didn’t realise it was her turn.

Forgot about the time I was in Cologne (no, really!) for a stag do. First night there I loaded up on several pints of Kölsch and a fine meal of German black pudding, stewed apple and mash (food of the gods).

Fast forward to the next morning and we were all sitting in the (6 bed) room discussing the days plans and feeling sorry for ourselves. Not sorry enough. I let one rip, the first to fall victim was my missus on the top bunk. Then the girl on the bed an easy ten feet away a couple of minutes later. Then the three poor sods sitting by the window in between (that wiped the smug grin off their faces). Smelled like burning arse hair but several times worse. This continued all day to the point everyone refused to walk with me. I managed to disgust an entire line of folk waiting to cross the road at a crossing (I was at one end, rest of party at the other, they smelled it and the poor woman next to me didn’t know what to do).

Again, one of those incidents that’s still talked about. I’ve since been banned from eating that dish.

The day after my youngest brothers wedding, I was in Hotel Chocolat at Bluewater when the previous days food and drink caught up with me! My g/f at the time (now wife) was waiting to pay and my lads (in their 20’s) were hanging around when I let go a weapons grade SBD. I sauntered off to the front of the shop leaving the g/f and shop assistant alternately glaring at me, each other and gagging. The atmosphere in the car on the way to Gatwick was tense as was my sphincter – I was left in no doubt that a repeat would see me ejected in to the fast lane of the M25 or out of the emergency exit on the plane – I’m still reminded 6 years later of the offence!