#TOTW If you farted…

Gondola

Reminds me of skiiing many years ago. I think me and my mates were early 20s. One heavy night after another and too much cheese took it’s toll and resulted in my mate dropping an absolute bomb in one of the those old style stand up 6 man bubble lifts. 3 of us 2 french strangers one actually nice looking lady.

Dave had no shame and just started laughing. I could have died of embarrassment. Looking back funny as…

Came for the bike maintenance help, stayed for the fart gags! 😂

This has to be contender for thread of the week surely?

My mate’s uncle used to try and mask his farts behind a short false coughing fit. Problem was he could never time it right and always coughed too early, and then farted…

Happened every time. Flippin’ hilarious. And still twenty years on, when my mate and I are out on a ride we always cough before we fart.

The gym I frequent is full of young ladies photographing their arses in the mirror. I am about 20 years older. I don’t think they appreciated me straining a little too hard to perform a deadlift the other week after a heavy weekend on the sauce.

I can see why you frequent it.

Came for the bike maintenance help, stayed for the fart gags! 😂

Sounds about right. As I coined years ago,

“STW: You’ll come for the bikes, you’ll stay for the bollocks.”

Back at school in 1980 – in the music room (double double glazing and sound insulation so zero air flow) the “trendy” teacher is introducing us to U2 Boy. Ian Sanderson lets a ripper go as teacher lifts the needle off. So much hilarity that Sanderson, laughing fit to burst, accidently topples his chair over backwards and ends up on the floor, at which point he lets another one fly…..carnage

Thread Of The Week.

Middle-class cockbags, indeed.

Two friends were on gap year travels thirty years ago.

They splashed out on a fancy hotel in India. After an evening eating and drinking in the city they were back at the hotel in the foyer. It was hot and Jason let rip, he was wearing shorts and when he looked down he had left a brown stain on the lovely white marble floor.

This story was recited in a best mans speech a few years later and got a very different reception from the two sides guests

I’ll try and be as genteel as I can with this story.

I was once in the company of a lady, and was extremely relaxed. A little too relaxed as I let a particularly audible toot go. The lady was less than impressed as her face was very close to where the toot appeared from. What had been started was not finished.

I look downwards, unaware that at least one more blouse button than was decent had come undone.

A happy man suddenly feeling very old?

I got into farting at my Quaker school.

Each morning assembly the entire school sat in silence in our assembly hall.

Quite clearly an excellent opportunity to fart as loudly as possible.

This was never my style.

I perfected a different method. Silent hot humid and dense. The type that hangs and does not dissipate. Those within the impact zone had to sit there in silence, unable to move gasping for clean air.

I could take out quite a large area.

I once drove home a good friend back from Uni in my Metro. I was hungover and flatulent.

I told my friend my catalytic converter was playing up and stank.

No matter how bad it got it was imperative that we kept the windows closed to keep out the stench.

We were nearly home by the time he worked out what was really happening.

One Christmas I gave my nephew a fart in a jar. Well, I’d also put a memory card in there for his new phone but that’s by the by. Anyway, I managed to put the lid on a right belter and wrapped it up, his memory card marinating in one of my finer efforts.

Much hilarity ensued when it was present opening time and I revealed to him and everyone else what I’d done but it wasn’t until about an hour or two later when I walk round the corner into the lounge and there is no one there but the mother in law holding the jar at arms length whilst simultaneously trying to have a tentative sniff. No, I have no idea why, either.

Was in bed asleep the other night with my lovely new partner of a couple of months. I’m pretty sure I let rip and woke myself up in the process. I’m too embarrassed to ask if that actually happened or if I imagined it, and more worryingly, if I woke her up too !

I’ve mentioned before but when we do abs at the end of the bootcamp sessions I go to, one exercise is for you to lie flat on your back, and for your partner to stand with feet either side of your head. You lift your legs up, they catch them, and then throw them down to the ground as hard as they can, while you try and resist them.

I don’t know what I’d eaten at lunch, but it was begging to be let out.

The first few times was ok and then there was a little squeak….I don’t know what possessed me to try another lap but next go let loose the bogs of war.

Our class is more than mixed, quite a few ladies. Stifled giggles all round, but there was no point denying it as my oppo was bent double by now.

**

Second story – not even a farting one, just puerile kids. Last year of primary school in the little village; normally the headmaster took boys games on a Weds afternoon but for some reason our football game was being reffed by one of the prim middle aged women teachers.

A goal was scored, the ball was returned to the centre spot, and as is normal we just kicked off again

STOP! STOP! she shouted. Come back. I need to blow off first!

several small boys asphyxiated with laughter, cos Miss said ‘blow off’. Simpler times, for sure.

I can assure you that no fart measures up unless it can cause the crew to abandon their dustcart

Surely in such situations you insert your artillery shell as a stopper.

TBH it’s easily done if you sorta fall over after you’ve been dura-glit ing them.

Twas a pretty strange story thou 🙂

Around twenty years ago I worked in a small workshop/factory with around half a dozen others where I was known as a prodigious farter. I was so childish that I bought a remote control fart machine that was the source of many a laugh in the pub. I was showing it off at work one day and one of my colleagues just laughed and said “if ever there was a man who didn’t need a fart machine”!
I decided I wanted to improve my lot in life and thought IT might be the answer so got myself a qualification in programming at a local college evening classes and then got the offer of a job with a small IT company. My workmates at the workshop gave me quite a bit of ribbing about how I was going to have to keep my farts under control if going to work in an office environment.
First day in the new job and the new boss shows me to my work station and starts to set up an account for me on the PC. He doesn’t sit down, just bends over the desk to do it with me stood right behind him. Then he lets out an enormous cushion duster straight in my direction!
Quite a few giggles going on around the room, me included. Boss’s right hand man sitting across the room says “you’re going to have to get used to that working here”.
So, still unsure of myself in this new position, I spend the morning doing some simple introductory tasks while holding my farts in. It starts to get a bit uncomfortable until eventully I think “F*** it, this might break the ice” and let rip with a right rasper that rattles off the hard plastic chair. Cue more giggling around the room and boss’s right hand man announces “F***in hell #name_omitted#, I think you’ve met your match here”!
A girl who was on the same course as me also worked at the company, in the next door office that was through a short passage with no doors. At lunch time she just rolled her eyes and said “That passage is like a bloody wind tunnel”!

At the old office there was a short corridor maybe, I don’t know, 10m long if that. It had a door at each end and a perma-locked office full of files off to one side, but it was the primary cut-through from the main office to the kitchen. And it was notorious for people sneakily deflating as they walked on through.

No-One Would Ever Know. Uh-huh. On a post pub-lunch Friday afternoon you needed swimming goggles and a machete to get to the other end.

Worked in an office a few years back, when i was trying out a new protein powder, turns out it didnt really agree with my guts and while i was trying to hold one in whilst i got my coat and snuck out for lunch i accidentally let one drop.

nice and silent, but by lord did it smell, one of the girls on a different team who sat about 20ft apparently gagged it was that bad, did i see her gag? No as i carried on getting my coat and sauntered out of the office.

It was so bad i had to apologise to pretty much the whole floor later in the day.

Im sort of proud rather than embarrassed.

granted for the OP in his confined space this isnt possible but if a ripper is inevitable I usually stand fairly close to someone else. When everyone looks at me I turn to look at the closest person, join in the disgust and shift the blame. So far only been caught out once since my school days.

I probably should take more responsibility but as my other half keeps accusing me….I havent grown up yet.

On the rare occasion I’ve tried that, I can’t keep it together and floor myself laughing every time.

I just managed to clear a few aisles of my local supermarket. Dropped my guts silently in the bread aisle only to realise it was a proper, deadly nuclear bomb. Really struggled to leave the area without retching and as I left someone walked into that aisle and immediately recoiled in horror!

The tannoy has just asked for a cleaner for that aisle so hopefully they’re just investigating rather than someone has thrown up.

I was once in the company of a lady, and was extremely relaxed. A little too relaxed as I let a particularly audible toot go. The lady was less than impressed as her face was very close to where the toot appeared from. What had been started was not finished.

When i was in my early teens, I finally got to spend some time with a girl i’d admired from a distance for … oooh, a good couple of years. She was on the rebound, but I didn’t care, I couldn’t believe it. At some point in the evening we separated from friends and found some alone space…

Well it certainly didn’t end up as bad as the example quoted above, but i’m pretty sure the reason things didn’t progress beyond the first ‘date’ was due to the hideous, so thick and wet you could paint a wall with it trouser trumpet that could only have resulted from a combination of teenage nerves and Oast House Bitter (39p a can from Aggy B’s).

Oh god, that reminds me… I was in a similar situation back at uni. A girl on my course who was extremely fit (in actual fact she was already doing lingerie modelling) and we’d spent time in Germany, where she had a boyfriend who subsequently dumped her. Now, she was a bit dull and hard work (but cute, so cute) and rumour was she had insisted her boyfriend always showered and cleaned teeth before engaging in carnal activities.

In our final year, one drunken evening, I somehow find myself snogging her in the Union – to this day I have no idea how, but she also came back to my room where after a quick fumble I passed out. She had to be up early to go to work and there was an awkward chat about “err yeah, maybe see you later?” at which point I became aware of a really bad smell. Really thick, ill-smelling brown heat like I had to wonder if I’d actually pooped.

Yeah so that didn’t go any further.

i’m pretty sure the reason things didn’t progress beyond the first ‘date’ was due to the hideous, so thick and wet you could paint a wall with it trouser trumpet that could only have resulted from a combination of teenage nerves and Oast House Bitter (39p a can from Aggy B’s).

From you or her?

at which point I became aware of a really bad smell. Really thick, ill-smelling brown heat like I had to wonder if I’d actually pooped.

Same question.

That did occur to me as I wrote it, and maybe we’ll never know now.

A gentleman never tells.

Things have changed though.

… fast forward ~30 years and i’m standing naked in the kitchen last night talking to my wife, about to go for a swim (that’s what we do in Australia in summer) and let a sneaky one out and leave her to savour it. As i walk off to the pool she says with wrinkled nose and angry eyes, “Did you just fart?”
“Of course I did love, do I always smell like that?”

I met a smashing lawyer from Chicago and we started a fun long distance relationship. On one of my visits to Chicago we were in her swanky apartment just off the magnificent mile and were having a pleasant bit of morning banter and snuggling in bed after a thai meal and some beers the night before. All of a sudden I felt that ‘morning’ pressure building up in the pit of my stomach. Not wanting to spoil the morning vibe I opted to hold it in. Magically it disappeared, only for it to make its presence felt, at double the pressure, a wee bit later. Waves of internal pressure meant much cheek clenching and that horrible pulsating feeling in my outlet valve. It was at this point I knew that I couldn’t go to the toilet. As soon as i stood up and unclenched my bum there would be no holding back. Better with plan B.
In sheer desperation, I decided I would go for the controlled muffled fart, the’with slippers on’ approach. I convinced myself I could manage a slow, silent release and direct the stench out of my side of the duvet. Unfortunately, as I started the slow release process, I felt like my bum was a toothpaste dispenser. Exactly the same amount that you would put on your toothbrush popped out onto the bed. Her bed- with nice crisp high thread count sheets. However this wasn’t minty fresh goodness I deposited.

Obviously I was mortified but I don’t know why but I just started having a fit of the giggles. As we made each other laugh by saying stupid things, so she joined in with my giggling.
Her ‘What you laughing at?’
Me ‘Nothing’
Her’ What’s so funny’
Me ‘I’ve potted the white’
By this time it was that deep painful laughing that I can only imagine you get taking magic mushrooms :). This was infectious for her and the more I laughed the more she joined in. It quickly got to the painful cant breathe stage with snotters and all.
Her ‘What do you mean?’ not getting the Scottish saying.
Me ‘I’ve followed through’
Her ‘I Still dont get it’ More uncontrollable laughter for a few minutes.
Me ‘I’ve shat the bed’
Her’ Haahhhaaaa. Your hilarious’ ‘What does that mean?’
Me.. nearly passing out with breathlessness from laughter ‘I’ve shat the bed’
Her’ Haahaha. What’s a shat?’
After another couple of minutes of snotters and breathlessness, I managed to explain that its the past tense of shit. Sort of ruined the moment when the penny dropped for her.

We’re no longer together.

We’re no longer together.

To be fair, your method should probably be used as a relationship tester at the outset.
She clearly failed the test.

I probably shouldn’t share this but it was decades ago so, eh.

I was once ‘enjoying the company’ of a young lady who I’d quite bizarrely attracted in a pub. Bizarrely because I can count the number of women I’ve “picked up” on the fingers of one thumb, this simply never happens to me.

So whilst, erm, going to work I casually slipped a finger up her bum. She squealed, I realised that mistakes had been made but unfortunately the swift removal of said finger was followed by a Malteser chaser.

What’s a gentleman to do? I made a snap decision and Subbuteoed it across the room. I do occasionally wonder what went through her mind when she eventually found it.

going to work

I read that as “On the way to work” and thought, that’s brave

Just had a bit of a homemade Indian buffet, rogan josh, jalfrezi, onion bhajis….

About to go and stand in a busy foyer with a lot of gymnastics mums to pick up daughter after a show.

I may have solved the social distancing issue though…..

I work in the outdoors, so generally just let go without a thought.

So do I, which is a huge advantage!

All he said was F****** Hell do you need an Ambulance.

Or possibly a hearse…