- I'm going to get caught out sooner or later.
I’m sitting in a big office all on my own. There’s a room / office next to me which is closed off, but a lot of women come and go with no need whatsoever to speak to me.
I’m farting a lot, and its worse than usual – very garlicky from last night’s dinner. Its that bad I’m enjoying it. It cant be long before the smell peaks… and then one of the ladies – the fittest one of course – randomly approaches me to ask where the nearest printer is, or some such guff.
Its gonna happen. Man it stinks in here.Posted 7 years agosharkiMember
I had to remove myself from a pub a few weeks back such was the potency of rot that vaporised from my butt hole.
Wasn’t half as embarrassing as what happened to a friend of mine many years ago.
He too had a little office all to himself, where staff would enter when they had a query or the food basket lady that would come round with rolls, etc.
Anyway, he was behaving off the back of a horrible divorce in such a way any thing went when it came to women. After a very late night with one such lady he left hers without taking a shower and went straight to work.
As he shut himself in his office the stench that began to fill the room was blamed on the previous days tuna sandwich that remained uneaten on the side. Staff came and left without so much as a remark to the fishy odour that was trapped within the room. After a few hours of this my mate needed the loo. It was then as he undid his trousers to pee, did the origin of the smell reveal itself.
He promptly made his excuses and a left for home for a very long scrub in his shower.
Sat here laughing about it now as whenever he retells me, we end up in pieces.Posted 7 years ago4ndy BMember
I tried a little fart experiment the other day
I’d just finished a bottle of Oasis (other fruit based beverages are available for the purpose of this experiment) and felt something brewing
So I unscrewed the top from the bottle & held it against my twitching sphincter
A rather loud fart rattled it’s way from my chocolate spider via my boxers and work trousers into the bottle.
I quickly screwed on the lid, giggling out loud at the noise that’d just emanated from my arse, my other work colleague had witnessed the entire event and was almost wetting himself at the sight & sound of a bottled bottom burp
I left the bottle on the side near the sink for a few minutes, before checking that my experiment had worked. Having studied chemistry I knew how to smell the contents properly by wafting my hand over the now unscrewed bottle. Woah! it worked, I couldn’t believe it, awesome!
So after rolling around the workshop for a good five minutes my colleague and I returned to our jobs still quietly giggling to ourselves.
The next person to enter the workshop was the gaffer!
I was busy serving a customer at the till when my colleague said to the boss that I’d been a little unwell after lunch and got him to smell his untainted bottle of Oasis, then pointed at the other bottle near the sink. You can guess what happened next can’t you…. yup, the gaffer took a hearty inhale of the contents of the bottom burp bottle…
…”Woah bloody hell” he exclaimed “that’s a bit wrong” whilst everyone else in the workshop was wetting themselves laughing, he still looked a bit bemused, until my colleague told him about the actual contents of the bottle.
Laugh, I’ve not laughed so hard in years, my sides were aching, tears were streaming down my face, god knows what the customer thought though…Posted 7 years agotangMember
I had to sleep in the spare room last night due to the revolting stench I was producing every 5 minutes, my wife was not happy at all. Ive had to wash the sleepingbag today (i was banned from duvets). You know its bad when your own trouble you.Posted 7 years ago
Me and my 5 brothers used to jar our farts and label them like wine bottles. They were used to unscrew and shove in each others faces, usually when you had just woken up. I found one about 15 years later, Chateau S*** 1984 vintage, I nearly passed out assuming it would be harmless.CougarSubscriber
Few years ago, I worked in an office which was next door to the Gents’ loos.
One night, the guy I worked with came round to mine for a few beers and a movie (in a manly heterosexual sort of way), and I made a pile of fajitas.
The next day at work, we were both auditioning for the British Olympic Synchronised Deflating Team. Just as one ale-and-Mexican-food fuelled boff had finally dissipated, the other one of us would turn the air brown all over again. And they were proper pungent, all thick and chewy. The sort of farts that if they came out any hotter you’d have to go and check for accidental slippage.
Obviously after a while, people coming in our office started to notice. By lunchtime, people walking -past- the office were going “jesus, what’s that?!”
The onion, garlic and chilli based poison cloud spread to adjacent offices. People were coming from further and further away to try and trace the source of the smell.
By now though, we’d perfected the perfect cover story. We simply indicated the toilets next door, “yeah, it’s really bad isn’t it, must be coming from through there.” To be fair, by this point it probably wasn’t wholly inaccurate a claim as I suspect we’d been in pebbledashing the traps by then.
Then the maintenance man turned up. He spent ages unplumbing and (surprisingly) couldn’t find a problem.
Apparently, they then got in Dynarod or something similar, to take it all to bits. Dunno how much that cost for an out of hours call, but they must’ve been worth it because the problem had gone by morning…Posted 7 years ago
And they were proper pungent, all thick and chewy
What a beautiful description. This amuses me immensely, which is all that matters, in my book. 🙂
emit it over as large an area as possible and see if you can get away without getting caught.
This sport is called crop-dusting.
I had to employ this tactic whilst browsing an exhibition of the works of the painter Ingres, in the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, some years ago. Fortunately, there was a party of elderly people who I utilised in order to absorbed any blame. Which was most fortuitous, as it allowed me to ‘depressurise’ somewhat, and not jeopardise my chances of sharing a bed that evening with the young lady I was with.
I can never remember the gaseous products of my own bowels being so utterly noxious as that. Proper eye-stinging.Posted 7 years agotimberMember
An office contains it, however, when working outdoors and the guy your working with has to stop his chainsaw from 50m away and question your bowels, you have hit a certain potency that should not be unleashed in a tractor cab. Both I am proud to have achieved and lucky to have survived the latter.
Those are not my greatest though, that falls to my final exams at uni’. I had some serious farts before the exam, leave the room strength, couldn’t even bask in your own vapour. The peak however came mid exam, thank god it was silent, otherwise it would have echoed around the hall. I just sat back and watched the ripple of heads rise in a wave as if I was the centre of a nuclear blast.
Fart humour still amuses me, think I may fill someones lunch box tomorrow, off to chew some garlic…Posted 7 years agoStonerSubscriber
my favourite tale of trouser truffing was one involving my best man.
he and his ex girlfriend were travelling through Vietnam when they stopped an eating shack. Previous visits to other eating shacks were playing havoc with both their guts, but it was his bird who dropped a grim air-bomb first as they sat at the dining table.
When the owner returned with their food he sniffed the air and promptly ran over to the shack’s dog and kicked it out of the “restaurant” apologising to my friend and his girl as he went 🙂
She just coloured….Posted 7 years agouser-removedMember
Chateau S*** 1984 vintage, I nearly passed out assuming it would be harmless.
An ex of mine used to bottle them as a kid – her brother did the same. She claimed that her brother had bottled a fine example as a ten year old, in a corked vase on her aunty’s mantlepiece. She opened it 12 years later and said the stench was palpable. I never believed her until now….
Also, right at the end of my degree course, I finally ended up in a pub, sitting next to the gorgeous Finnish girl who I’d admired from afar for three years (you can already tell this isn’t going to end well). She’d had a few, as had I, and the conversation had passed from flowing to flirty – she was leaning right into my space and smiling a lot…. I chose my moment and let slip a silent-but-violent.
Oh FFS, the stench was incredible – it filled our lungs like a liquid. We tried to carry on talking but the damage was done and she swiftly moved to another table. Can’t say I blame her 🙁Posted 7 years agotangMember
My 20 year old uncle was very cool and always took me (then 9) to the cinema. During smoky and the bandit 2 I let off a initially loud but later humming guff. In a stroke of instant genius, on ripping , with perfect timing as everyone looked our way, I glared in disgust at my uncle. He got the blame. After the movie some girls were giving him a hard time, when he protested and tried to explain it was me they lept to my defence. I got a good beating later, well worth it.Posted 7 years agostayhighMember
I work in long term residential psychiatric hospital and on monday one of the residents approached me saying the toilet was blocked. I went to the cubicle in question and was greeted by the biggest bog monster I have ever seen. It was raised nearly 3 inches above the water line and as thick as my wrist. Whoever laid it must have been hallowed out in no uncertain terms 😯Posted 7 years agophilconsequenceMember
work in long term residential psychiatric hospital and on monday one of the residents approached me saying the toilet was blocked. I went to the cubicle in question and was greeted by the biggest bog monster I have ever seen. It was raised nearly 3 inches above the water line and as thick as my wrist. Whoever laid it must have been hallowed out in no uncertain terms
do you work in fleet in hampshire?
same thing happened to me when working in a long term residential psychiatric unit… we had to call dynorod out as no amount of trying to break this thing down with a stick would work!Posted 7 years agopedalheadSubscriber
1995, top floor of Waterstones in Winchester. Empty apart from me, my good mate, and a gorgeous girl behind the counter, head down reading a book. Total “empty bookshop” silence. Naturally, I couldn’t miss the opportunity to punch out a high volume ripper & immediately dart quietly downstairs & out of sight, leaving my “mate” holding the can as the gorgeous female looked up to identify the uncouth perpetrator. Marvellous.
great thread btw, though I really should know better by my agePosted 7 years agoglobaltiMember
When I was s student I used to work the odd day driving for Hertz, returning cars to depots, delivering to airports, that kind of thing. I remember tearing along the road to Newcastle airport in a 3 litre Granada Ghia, taking the first bend rather fast and being surprised when it just carried on in a straight line… thank God nothing was coming the other way. The 3 litre Capris were good fun though.
Anyway I digress…. one particular day I was following the Newcastle manager, the lovely Debbie, all dolled up in her black and yellow Hertz uniform as we drove in two cars to Middlesborough to drop a car. I must have been on the McEwan’s Best Scotch the night before because I dropped an absolute stinker in the car. So far so good and I was just wondering what would happen if Debbie stopped and wanted to talk to me (mobile phones hadn’t even been thought of in those days) when Debbie’s brake lights went on and she indicated into a layby. Bugger me! I had the windows open and was wafting the air frantically as Debbie tottered back to me on her black patent high heels to tell me she had decided to divert to an hotel and drop off some Hertz leaflets. She stuck her head in my car window and all I could do was blush and stammer, if she didn’t smell anything she must have thought I was some kind of idiot. It was a great job though, being paid a tidy £0.75 an hour to drive around in fast executive cars. Speed cameras also hadn’t been invented ad quite a few of the other drivers were coppers, moonlighting. Gawd knows how I never smashed anything up.Posted 7 years ago
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