Gurning out a rectal-puff in a supermarket is not big, nor clever, yet quite amusing.
I was strolling through Tescos with my trolly and suddenly I felt the warning rumble, predicting the imminent arrival of a possible copious emmision of Eau-de-Colon. I looked around to make sure nobody was nearby and decided to birth the proot in the cheese and dairy produce aisle. I sort of perched against the trolly to force the guff out at a controlled pace, so as not to make it too audible. Sadly, it was not to be and a size XXL air buffet was expelled from my walnut at great velocity, producing a very loud quacking raspberry.

Almost immediately I realised that the boquet was pungent beyond normallity and decided to make good my escape, leaving behind the stench for the next person to make their way to this particular part of the shop to procure their chosen dairy produce. As I turned I almost bumped into a woman who I had not detected, as she was crouched down low with a 6 pint bottle of semi-skimmed which she had picked from the lower part of the display.

It was a shockingly immediate realisation that this person, not only witnessed the full soundtrack but had actually received the anal gust full in the face.

I am a gentleman and promptly apologised and continued with my shopping. A few minutes later I found myself at the same checkout as the poor recipient of my repulsive fartage. For a while our eyes met very briefly, but devilment soon got the better of me. I turned to the woman who was looking decidedly uncomfortable, probably due to her feeling nauseous and possibly in a state of shock. Let's face it. I mean, the last thing you expect whilst shopping for milk in a supermarket is some cunt farting directly into your face.

Our eyes met and she gave me a look of disgust yet spoke no words. I stared back at her and without muse or emotion I simply said, "I think there's more". The woman hurried her shopping back into her basket and moved to another checkout much further up the store, and close to the exit. Our paths crossed briefly in the car park. She wound down the window of her Renault Megane, looked at me briefly and said briefly, yet assertivley, "Filty pig". I waved and bid her a pleasent journey.

I have dined out on this story for several years now, but I do feel rather sorry for this woman, as should she ever decides to recall these events, it will inevitably be met with mirth. Shame.
( Captn Hood-Butter is not dead yet., Mon 16 Jul 2007, 11:48, Reply)

Farting too far
My brother,love him to bits is a tad overweight. At the time of this story he was 20-odd stone but built like a brick shithouse from his karate too. Anyway, rather than dieting he managed to get the doctor to give him diet pills. These are the ones where your body won't absorb any fat you eat so you have to have a completely fat free diet. Sounds simple. Cue one huge pizza and half a pound of wine gums just for himself.

Next day we go to the pub. We're sitting outside on one of those pub garden tables and I'm telling him something funny. He laughs manically, farts and the smile freezes on his face. Standing up there's a lovely dollop of undigested fat he's farted trhough his pants and trousers. Already half cut we continue the drinking inside laughing ourselves silly while he sorts himself out in the gents.

We stagger out two hours later, the sun baking hot to find the stain still there. It's been there since.
(Mad Monkey Mojo, Mon 16 Jul 2007, 11:42, Reply)

True satisfaction
Not sure if anyone has mentioned it yet but why is it that farts smell good when they are your own?

For full flavour of gas emissions you should try chest waders. Fart, crouch and allow the warm stinky rush of air to surround you and those in close vicinity. A little treat for those around you who are complaining of the smell is to remind them that all smells are particulates! Watch them turn a paler shade as they realise they have injested your anal produce without fully realising.
(Studentken is looking for motivation on, Mon 16 Jul 2007, 11:40, Reply)

My father
once farted in bed and it smelt so bad it woke him and my mum up. He also told me once that he had terrible diarrhea. He said it was so bad that after he'd had a shit, he stood up and was surrounded by a brown mist.
( DumbMonkey The penis mightier than the sword, Mon 16 Jul 2007, 11:40, Reply)

Blowing me a kiss...
After a night on the town a few years back and feeling more than a little horny, me and Mrs tinpixel race home to bed for a night of not-so-tender-lurve.

Ever the gentleman, I do my bit for queen and country and head south. Several minutes of the finest cunnilingus later, her deep breathing and relaxed body assures me I'm doing well. I am, indeed, the man.

He legs shift a little and a soft moan escapes her lips... "She's almost there. Fucking get in!" thinks I.

A split second later the full force of a silent fart, emitted from an anus mere millimeters away from my face, fills my mouth and nostrils - a vile combination of rotten veg and school-poo (you know the smell).

I almost threw up in her cunt.

Did I get an apology? Oh no... She'd fucking fallen asleep.
(tinpixel, Mon 16 Jul 2007, 11:37, Reply)

A captive audience is always good
One time my mum and sister were off shopping I decided to tag along (being a lazy slob I figured I'd get sis to drop my shopping at home saving me a walk).

I'm sat in the back of the car - mum and sis are up front. As we've pulled away, the heavens have opened and the rain is REALLY coming down hard...

Driving along, I suddenly feel the urge to let rip, and being the sharing sort that I am, I lift my leg and produce this beautifully melodious fart.

As I sit there beaming, sis and mum start choking - their eyes are watering and they both open the windows so they can get some air into their tortured lungs - both getting totally drenched in the process.

Since then, I'm not allowed in a car with them if I've been drinking Guinness...
( snee held his breath since, Mon 16 Jul 2007, 11:34, Reply)

On Topic?
You know how yawning is contagious? Once one person starts then everyone else in the room does, then that sets of the first person again. I don't know if I'm alone but it did make me smile to imagine what it'd be like if farts were contagious too.... imagine at a concert or something....
(ComplexStuff Was confused by life on, Mon 16 Jul 2007, 11:26, Reply)

Coach farty.
A couple of years ago, on a coach in Corfu, I positioned myself in a lovely window seat just behind the stairwell to the door by the rear wheel arch. Having indulged in a wonderful beery holiday I was silently farting away merrily, positively savouring the foul stench that lingered around me.
Soon enough the bus stopped to pick up passengers and the doors opened with a whoosh and a strong waft of warm Corfiot air, which blasted my minging cloud away further into the bus. Well, I was half pleased/half miffed that my previous work had been banished, but within a very short space of time I could hear an English voice from a couple of rows back, obviously getting some serious grief from the wife:

“What? It wasn’t me! I swear, it wasn’t me!”

I obviously curled up in the seat and nearly wet myself trying to stifle the laughs as the accusatory hissing continued and the poor chap took the blame for my mis-deeds. Looking across the aisle, I saw a little Greek child, about 10, who didn’t say anything, she just gave me the most withering look of disgust and turned away. She knew.

That was the moment I realised the fart truly is the only international language and I am a cunning linguist.
(Rsoles, Mon 16 Jul 2007, 11:26, Reply)

Timing is everything
One time on the underground as I was riding an escalator up I let one slip - my mates were following behind and drifted right into the most noxious cloud ever, what made it worse (for them - I was away and clear) was it seemed to follow them all the way up. Cue green faces and blokes trying to hold onto the copious amount of beer we'd been drinking...

Of course, my laughing until I was crying kind of gave the game away as to who'd done it...
( snee held his breath since, Mon 16 Jul 2007, 11:17, Reply)

When I was younger
I used to work in a supermarket on the night shift.

One night, to alleviate the inevitable boredom of shelf-stacking, I wandered down to the front desk, held down the talk button and let a real teeth-rattler go into the microphone of the PA system.

I can't begin to express the satisfaction of hearing ones own arse-biscuit echo round the eves of a large closed supermarket followed by a hearty cheer from impressed colleagues.
(toomanydecibels has bleeding ears on, Mon 16 Jul 2007, 11:17, Reply)

The funniest fart ever
Lying in bed with my gf on sunday morning, I heard the strangest fart sond I've ever heard, it was quite wet and sounded different to every other one I've heard. I wondered what the hell it was, then it came to me
Me "was that a fanny fart?"
Her (laughing) "yes...(laughter)"
yes, we spent about 10 minutes laughing at her fanny fart
at least she didnt follow through
(Runningwithsporks Something something darkside, Mon 16 Jul 2007, 11:09, Reply)

I'm very proud of the fact.
My best mate can make stinks that would make mustard gas seem tame but I know nobody who has beaten me on this one occasion. I was helping my brother move flat and he had gone off in the van so I was left with his 2 stepsons and his pregnant wife while he was gone. Just sitting around chatting I let one slip and his wife had to promptly go off and be sick, not sure if it had something to do with being pregant or not but she said it smelt of roast beef which is funny as I had eaten none. There you go it was so bad I made someone throw up.
(CarlosTheJackal wants some tissues, Mon 16 Jul 2007, 11:02, Reply)

Detroit
A few years back I wangled a week-long trip to the US for a two-day seminar. Unfortunately, the venue was Detroit which, for those unfamiliar with stateside shitholes, is like an American version of Swindon, only bigger and shittier. To be fair, this particular venue wasn't in downtown Detroit, it was actually in Troy. But I digress.

So I was at said seminar and we had a break mid-morning. There were about 20 people there, all but one male, and only two urinals in the gents' lavs, so I'm standing in line waiting my turn, when the bloke in front stepped up to the oche.

Now, you know when you sit down for a shit, and the act of relaxing your sphincter also seems to affect your urinary tract, so you always pee at the same time? (Perhaps some b3tard doctor could explain this?) Well, it worked the other way for this chap. He was standing there, in full flow going by the sound, when he started to fart. Not a big long one, just little "prp, pop, fft" things.

But he then started to laugh uncontrollably. He was heaving up and down, pissing and farting at the same time. Those of us standing behind him in the queue thought this less amusing at the time. I'm smiling at it in hindsight though.
( K2k6 has a proper job these days, Mon 16 Jul 2007, 11:00, Reply)

Airport gas
Myself, gf and her daughter were flying to Zante for holiday from Glasgow airport. Now, I tend to have a delicate stomach when flying and produce plenty of gas prior to take off. This day they were of Hiroshima proportions and smelled something like dead fish left in the sun for a week in the summer (trust me its not good!).

I went to the toilet to relieve some of my bowel contents and whilst sat on the throne could hear people walking in and saying "Jesus whats that smell?!". Laughing to myself I left and met gf and her daughter in shop. It was here I dropped I most impressive SBV (Silent But Violent), laughing to myself I repositioned myself in shop with gf wondering how I could produce such vileness. As if on cue a group of lads walked on obviously set on a boys holiday to Shagaluf. One walks off to my 'drop zone' and is shortly followed by the others who smell the gas and proceed to ridicule him and tell him to see on a doctor because that smell was not normal. We in the meantime can't help but snigger at his protestations with his mates telling him he is sleeping n the balcony the whole holiday as they can't be expected to share a room with that!!

Apologies for length.............seriously!
(Studentken is looking for motivation on, Mon 16 Jul 2007, 10:48, Reply)

bigger, longer and uncut
The second time I ever had sex, it was on a dope-fuelled all-nighter which later involved a threesome with the coke fiend who rented the apartment (hoorah!).

The apartment was one-room, it was late winter and there was very little space for all seven of us stoners, so myself and Mr. BLU hid under the doona of the bed. Given the green fog in the room, the stoners failed to notice us getting increasingly naked. However, eventually this information penetrated their befugged brains and they were kind enough to go for a walk.

Yay! I'd never actually seen an adult male erection before (the previous incident of sex was in the dark with an underendowed troglodyte), and this was... unprecedented. (And also unpostcedented - I've certainly never seen anything like it since.) It was frickin' massive. I didn't try to put it in my mouth because I knew without trying that it wouldn't fit. It was seriously about two-and-a-half penises wide. Length? Who fucking cares???!

How is this relevant to farting you ask... because when we got down to it, after stuffing it in with a crowbar, a large pocket of air must have become stuck inside. As a result, when he pulled out, my fanny let out this huge rippling PARRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPP!!!! Yipe!

The rest will have to wait until QOTW guy chooses boshalake's question...
(Emily Bruce-Dickinson http://jovialfellow.blogspot.com/, Mon 16 Jul 2007, 10:43, Reply)

Laughing
at farts is a vicious circle. I had a friend (had, because we aren't friends anymore) who would guff and then giggle in such a childish, girlish manner that you couldn't help laughing with him, no matter how revolted you were.

I was helping him move to Pompey a few years back and he dropped a bastard in the cab of the removal van. I had to stick my head out of the van at fifty miles an hour, alternately retching, laughing and gulping down air. He was giggling so hard we nearly came off the road.

I don't really have many fart stories. They're all as crap as this one.
( Kroney, Mon 16 Jul 2007, 10:29, Reply)

More poetry
All this talk of poems has reminded me of a well-known Scottish ditty. Sorry to you non-Scots who may not fully appreciate it. Translations available by gaz.

Upon that hill there stood a coo,
It's no' there noo,
It must hae shifted.

Upon that hill there stood a bull,
Full o' wind,
It must hae rifted.

I wonder why that coo departed,
It must hae thocht the bull had farted.

(Apologies to William McGonagall)
( K2k6 has a proper job these days, Mon 16 Jul 2007, 10:14, Reply)

Poem
The Resident Loons' post has reminded me of a jolly little epitaph my gran reckoned she'd seen on a gravestone that read:

Let wind go free where 'ere you be,
'Cos keeping it in was the death of me.
( abefroman skating on the thin life of modern life on, Mon 16 Jul 2007, 10:09, Reply)

The wettest of farts
When I was a very junior doctor, I had to assist in an emergency bowel operation for somebody who had obstructed their gut.

My job was to pass things, hold retractors, snip sutures, and take things away. Usually patients have the mother of all laxatives pre-op to make sure their bowels are poo-less, but this was an emergency operation.

I was handed a two-foot section of large bowel the boss had cut out of the patient.
"Take this over to the sink, clean it out and carefully feel for an obvious tumour" I was told.
"All the way along?" I asked.
"Fill your boots" was the reply.

I did indeed fill my boots.

At this point I lost my grip on one end of the slimy shit-filled length of colon. With a "plthp plthp" sound like a wet fart, a litre of semi-liquid stool poured out of the length of gut, down my legs and into one my nice white wellington boots.

There was silence in the theatre apart from the muttered "fucking twat" from the boss.

I chose not to pursue a career as a surgeon.
( sm.pl.crt.rs I don't fucking know, do I?, Mon 16 Jul 2007, 10:08, Reply)

actually
that is completely untrue. NOONE needs to get together with my ex. noone. not one single person. not even the decapitated corpse of saddam hussein.
( rachelswipe with a fork, Mon 16 Jul 2007, 9:49, Reply)

Emily B-D
You need to get together with rachelswipe's ex!

Sorry, I've taken that too far!
( K2k6 has a proper job these days, Mon 16 Jul 2007, 9:48, Reply)

In the pool
While having a lunchtime swim one day, I was causing more than a few bubbles to come up to the surface. Actually, it was getting to be like jet propulsion at one stage. Realising that the pressure was building up, piston-like, in my bowels, once I'd finished swimming I got out and went to the toilet in the shower room, where I released a nice satisfying dump.

I had however committed the grave error of not checking the paper supply, which had run out.

So I emerged from the cubicle, naked, swimming shorts in hand, and stood under the showers, surreptitiously washing my shitty arse with my hand. Which isn't easy to do when there are other blokes standing right next to you soaping their balls.

Length? Too embarrassed to look at anyone else to compare.
( K2k6 has a proper job these days, Mon 16 Jul 2007, 9:46, Reply)

bumming
Millions of years ago, before I was a depraved old slapper, I had a boyfriend of rather advanced length and girth. Being an experimentally minded young person (that's a depraved *young* slapper), I considered it interesting to attempt bottom sex. Unfortunately it was rather uncomfortable and unsuccessful, and we gave up. I sat up as my boyfriend was rolling off the condom and politely warned him, "Watch out, I'm going to fart."

It followed through.

Squealing "EWWWWW!!!" at the top of my lungs, I grabbed the turdlet between two fingers and flushed it down the toilet, then spent several hours scrubbing my fingers (not to mention the brown sheets). My boyfriend, who interestingly does not actually seem to be a b3tan, saw fit to spend the rest of the week emphasising any part of a conversation that involved the word "bottom".
(Emily Bruce-Dickinson http://jovialfellow.blogspot.com/, Mon 16 Jul 2007, 9:40, Reply)

On stage flatulence
Another one of my gig stories.

Playing one night in Stirling, my rear end was in Devil's Arse mode, and I was dropping highly concentrated, foul emissions all night. After one particularly malodorous event, one of the other blokes in the band just walked off the stage, in the middle of a number, leaving the other three of us to get on with it.

We carried on for a minute or so before he came back, and started up again. It's amazing we kept going. I didn't know I could play and laugh so much at the same time.
( K2k6 has a proper job these days, Mon 16 Jul 2007, 9:36, Reply)

school assembly
Ah, those good old days of the late seventies when school assemblies meant sitting crosslegged on parquet floors and singing religious songs. Any word of dissent or humour resulted in the whipcrack voice of the pious hadmistress and being forced to stand up in front of the whole school to explain why you had a sense of humour/personality/life.

And so it was that I was singled out for some minor infringementof the rules (moving, perhaps). I was told to stand and tell the whole school what was so important that I had to move. The truth was that I had a fart in my bowels that threatened to launch me to Uranus...and it was battering at the clenched doors of my anus.

"Well Frankspencer? Can you tell us why you had the impertinence to move during my pious Bible readingl Yes? We're waiting...."

In the humming silence of that hall, the fart began to emerge. First as a kind of whistle between taut buttocks. Then, as it reached critical mass, it set my cheeks applauding as it flapped and bubbled into the air. It went on and on - turning into a prolonged trombone note that faded into an almost silent wheeze.

The following silence settled like a heavy snowfall. My face burned with abject humiliation.

"Sit down, Frankspencer."
(frankspencer, Mon 16 Jul 2007, 9:35, Reply)

Not a funny story as such..
My brother and his wifey are veggies. Each time she came to visit my parents she'd suffer madly while trying not to fart... and end up with serious stomach pains. In a successful bid to fix this, My brother - bless his cotton sox - instigated a scheme: One fart = 1 kiss. Each time his missus farted, she'd get a kiss :)

This is now accepted in my family.. and I'm sure that any visitor would be confused by Wifey meaningfully pointing at her cheek saying "I just earned a kiss" and my brother taking a deep breath and approaching for the kiss...
( Humpty Dumpty was Pushed Is unaware of having any limits., Mon 16 Jul 2007, 9:29, Reply)

hahahaha!
I farted in a crowded train today! It was crowded to the point where people had to get off to let other people off, whereby they would then hop back on the train.
I let off the most rotten, sulphury stinker just as the last doors closed for the 20 minute express... the look on everyone's face was priceless. I even saw someone turn a nice shade of green.. Mwuahahaha!
(brotagaia, Mon 16 Jul 2007, 9:28, Reply)

Farts rule!
I am a farter, a big one! I eat lots of fruit and veggies, so I always have gaseous emissions from my bowels.

Neither my first husband or my current husband are farters - at least, they didn't/don't fart around me.
Hubby #1 and I had gone out on the lash one night in York, and we got home, he passed out on the couch and did little parps for a good hour until I woke him up 'cos I was laughing so hard.

As for me, I'm a fisherwoman. When you fish from 6am till 2am, you learn to pee off the side of a boat. Unfortunately, when you know you have to hold your poo in, you tend to fart. Out on the boat yesterday I was farting my arse off so much that even the catfish wouldn't bite!
( Batshitmentalist is sane for once, Mon 16 Jul 2007, 8:19, Reply)

Coast Of Yemen,
at least when I do contribute it's not over 50k. Read the FAQ n00b.
( baldmonkey a frothy foul-smelling vaginal discharge, Mon 16 Jul 2007, 7:48, Reply)

I rock
I farted once and it made the cat throw up.
(Creamy Discharge Freeze Motherstickers, this is a fuck up, Mon 16 Jul 2007, 4:18, Reply)