A pack of us were Cleaning up the venue the morning after my mates wedding. He’s an animal for the food and drink and we had dined and watered well that night. Tens of strong ales and glasses of red and roast lamb Henry with hugely potent garlic mash. One of the last jobs was to take down stacks of chairs in the little wheel chair type lift and put them in the cupboard. On the last journey I felt an unholy gurgling commence just as the doors closed and by the time I’d reached ground level I was powerless to prevent an outgassing of such noxious ferocity that I feared I might faint. It was disgusting, like summer roadkill mixed with fermented pig shit, never have I emitted such a disgrace. Luckily I managed to to scramble out of there before being overcome by the horror. Ashamed and terrified in equal measure I wheeled those chairs toward the cupboard taking a last sheepish glance at the scene of the blasphemy. Where the bride’s mother had slipped in after me and closed the door…

It was a proper wedding, we even found one of the guests asleep in the toilets the following morning during the clean up

Proud dad moment!

Very. I’m proud of a lot of what he gets up to, but usually have to pretend I’m not 😀

A few year ago I was at Murrayfield with a few mates to see Connacht beat Leinster in the Pro 12 final. Richard was dropping some pretty rotten efforts, bad enough to offend the rows in front and behind at least. Every time people started to smell them he would turn around and give a filthy look to a small boy behind him. Eventually even the boy’s mother was blaming him, despite his protests, and he burst into tears.

MsJimmy and I sleep in separate beds. We just sleep better that way. The instigator for this, to my mind, was the fact that she snores (OK, it’s a light snuffle, but enough to wake me up). So in the early days I’d happily tell people she snores blah blah. I realised I was probably being a bit harsh when one she she blurted out “Yeah well you stink!”.

That put me in my place. But she’s not the first GF to feed back on being woken up by strong smells.

the fact that she snores

not the first GF to feed back on being woken up by strong smells.

Have you considered that she may actually be choking on your emissions?

I used to work in an outdoor shop in Newcastle in the 90s. One of the lads was fitting some walking boots for a teenager who’d obviously just been picked up from the local private school by her very attractive and clearly minted mother. On retrieving a different sized pair of boots from the store room, the chap in question sat back down right in front of the girl at one of those very low fitting stools with the slopey front you only get in shoe shops. The wooden construction of the stool helped to amplify the **** enormous fart he let slip. The noise was truly immense and he had to soldier on with a meek apology.

I worked in a family business that had done well – £50m turnover, 300+ employees, the original founder aged 80+ still popping into the office a couple of times a week.

I was in the gents and the founder shuffled in for a wee, letting rip with a shockingly loud fart. He looked me in the eye and said “better here than on the bus”.

I had to agree.

After a night of curry and beers, on the back deck of a dive boat doing about 15 knots. I think i was the only one laughing, since the other 10 or so lads scurried into the cabin to escape the stench….. Weymouth has a lot to answer for.

I remember a good list of phrases to use on these occasions, probably from viz – sadly the only one I can remember is ‘bit more choke and that would have started’.

“Alexa, open a window”

On holiday in Turkey, got a dodgy stomach. Had too much Efes. In Hotel bar’s toilet, farted, followed thru. My drunken state persuased me it was a good idea to whip off my undies and throw them thru the open window.
Next morning, woke early, went to balcony to see my undies floating in hotel pool. Thankfully my Mam hadnt sewn my name in them.

At work last week one of the youths let out a slow rumbling fart that seemed to go on for ages.
One of the old boys lowered his paper and said, ” a little bit of choke and that would have started”

Reminds of my mum when she must have been my age now, mid-forties. I’d be watching TV in the lounge, she’d be in the kitchen and there’d be such a long winding tuneful fart, like 15 seconds easily. I’d shout “was that you?!”

Silence.

Eventually mum would come up for air having been crippled by laughter. She’s my absolute hero.

Anyone who knows of the Channel Islands will know that Sark is one of the inhabited islands that has no cars. They have tractors, horses and bicycles.

Many years ago the Queen visited Sark and was driven from the harbour by a horse and carriage. Now the harbour is at the bottom of a long steep hill so the carriage driver had given his horse a whole heap of extra oats in order to ensure that it made it all the way to the top.

Half way up the hill the horse let out an enormous fart and the driver said “Goodness, I’m terribly sorry Ma’am.” to which the Queen replied “That’s quite alright, I thought it was the horse!”

Bloke I used to work with would constantly drop the most evil trouser burps, proper eye watering stuff. His biggest claim to fame happened one evening while working at a telecoms hub site. The work had to be done in the wee hours, so him and the couple of blokes he was with went for a curry to kill some time, when they got back to site and settled down to work, all three of them started performing the full wind section. After an hour or so of their performance they got a phone call from a worried sounding bloke in the central control room wanting to know if everything is ok, the gas alarm at their site had gone off and the fire brigade are on the way!

Farting in Nigeria is regarded with utter contempt, I thought it would be a good icebreaker and let rip in the the site office, the silence fell like an iron curtain, luckily things returned back to normal 2 days later after the initial disgust was forgotten/forgiven, I was given a quiet talking to and made aware of this particular sensitivity.
I also once farted in the gym during a pt session during RN basic training, I was grassed up and had to star jump whilst shouting I must not fart in the gym my grasser had to star jump whilst shouting I must not grass up my oppos. The whole class was then made to take deep breaths to filter out the smell.

Our house doesn’t have the thickest walls and the bathroom shares a wall with the neighbours kids bedroom. I woke up in the early hours with bad stomach ache and fled to the bathroom. Did a fart of such magnitude that it woke the neighbours child and they started to cry. Poor kid must’ve thought a dragon or dinosaur had stepped out of their nightmares.

A few farts in yoga for men that I did a few years back proved that we never go beyond the mentality of 9 year olds.

But the memorable boot camp outside gym class I remember, I was sneaking a few out here and there already but then we had 5 minute abs to end the session. The bit that did for me, you lie on you back and your oppo stands with his feet either side of your head. Raise leg up so he can grab them, and then he throws them down while you try and resist them hitting the ground. First couple were ok but the effort contracting  your abs was also pushing things downwards. Third and a tiny squeak ensued, no one knew but me. Why I didnt just call it quits there IDK, but I proffered my legs one more time and delivered a trumpet fanfare that saw both army PT instructors that run the session snap to attention and salute!

I went up to Manchester to watch a day of test cricket back in 2006. I arrived the evening before and went out, as tradition dictates, for a curry and a skin full.

The next day at the cricket I nearly managed to cause a fight in the stand with my curry and ale farts, with one of my mate’s work colleagues getting particularly irate.

Fast forward five years are we are out on my mate’s stag do. In the mid afternoon his colleagues turned up and the same bloke was with them. His face dropped and the first words he said were “Oh no, not you”. Having arrived the night before and been out for a curry and a skin full, it wasn’t long before I provided him with a particularly unpleasant trip down memory lane.

After trying it on 2 years ago, I’m still getting away with blaming it on the cat.

After trying it on 2 years ago, I’m still getting away with blaming it on the cat.

Wait until you find out what the cat has been blaming on you.

In my previous life we had Sunday lunch with ex’s incredibly posh aunt and uncle. After pudding I was asked if I’d like a walk around the block in leafy Surrey with said uncle. I thought this a bit unusual but agreed. Strolling along he let out the most thunderous middle C trouser trumpet and kept a completely straight face. This was obviously the purpose of leaving the house. I paused, tried to maintain decorum but collapsed into uncontrollable laughter.