Anal yodeller
Yes, it's repost, but since I've done about 6 other posts here this week, I have to finish it off with this one, it really does belong here.

About 5 years ago I did a job, a conference, in a very quiet off-season Swiss resort.
The venue was a huge hall jutting out from a hostel type place, on stilts, containing 4 indoor tennis courts with a glass wall at one end giving a spectacular view of the Alpine scenery. Concerned about the acoustics of such a hangar-sized building , myself and a colleague strolled in to find that the place had been taken over by a large party of rowdy French schoolkids aged about 10-12. They were hanging out of their dorm windows, shouting, fighting, throwing bags at each other, totally Sunny D’d .

Reaching the centre of that cavern, 2 courts in, we realised it was an acoustic nightmare.
Needing to think and wanting to silence the French ADHD party, I bellowed “Hey!!! Ecoutez!” at them. Instantly, they all fell completely silent, stopped in mid-pillow fight and turned to face us. At that point, I struck the pose, cocked my leg, and kick started my imaginary motorbike, unleashing the longest drawn-out sheet tearing rip-snorting fart I have ever done. It was audio perfection, changed pitch mid-way, and I swear it bounced off the mountains and reverberated round that hall for about 10 seconds, I couldn’t believe such a beast had emanated from my very own dirtbox. Lifting off the pedal before I drew mud, I turned to face the schoolkids and took a bow. There was absolute, perfect silence for just a split-second before they (and us) erupted in screams of laughter. Picking ourselves up, literally, we left the building with them still howling.

For the rest of the week whenever we happened across the party of French kids in their class gatherings, all you could hear were them making loud farting noises prompting their teachers/handlers to go completely mental trying to restore order. They obviously had no clue as to why the appearance of these Englishmen triggered total mayhem from their little charges.

I like to think that they all went home and wrote essays about the Incredible English Anal Yodeller (and his astounded colleague)
(Rsoles, Thu 19 Jul 2007, 11:13, Reply)

He's in a meeting....
My friend V is on the Board of his company, but refuses to toe the line, always dresses in jeans and T-shirt and hates everyone who works there. They, in return, hate him and would gladly see the back of him, as he is something of a loose cannon. He is, however, the head of IT dept, so they daren’t get shot of him because they rely on his “expertise”, and tolerate his blatantly antagonistic attitude. (I bet that sounds familiar to some of you out there doesn’t it?)

Well, one particular morning V slithered into a Board meeting, all very serious, all very high brow. Slouching in his chair, he let rip a thunderous fart which bellowed (and billowed) round the room, halting proceedings as everyone turned to stare in astonishment in his direction. Calmly he turned to the meek little chap next to him and looked at him expectantly. After a moment or 2 he threw up his arms and declared:

“That’s OK Dench, you keep quiet and they’ll all think it was me.”

Poor Mr Dench then “confirmed” his guilt by turning a bright shade of scarlet, thus exonerating V of his arse-crime. Dench then became known company-wide as “Stench”.
(Rsoles, Thu 19 Jul 2007, 11:09, Reply)

I don't know who to feel more sorry for....
By this I mean my friend or any poor onlookers..

My friend, who shall remain nameless in case he graces these pages, went out shopping one day for provisions to make a nice Thai curry. Obviously his body must be a bit backward, as whilst he strolled up and down the aisles of the local market, collecting his produce, he farted, only to follow through like he'd never followed through before, (i believe he does this alot), and this is before he had even cooked, let alone eaten the curry. When he told me this, I asked him what he did, to which he answered, well, i couldnt drive home sat in a big pile of shit so i had to lose my pants and sit on newspaper to drive home. God Almighty....

So, I don't know who to feel sorry for.. Him for having to strip shitty pants off in public, or the public for having to witness such an event... Which would you pity??

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!
( rebeccaslicker, Thu 19 Jul 2007, 10:42, Reply)

Bunny
On a matter of anatomy, I'd suggest that the fanny farts were a result of the plugging you'd had in that orifice rather than the pressure exerted by the anal probe. Otherwise, everytime you had a shit, your pussy would become a vacuum.

Any doctors reading?
(frankspencer, Thu 19 Jul 2007, 10:26, Reply)

Everything makes me fart
Obviously some things are worse than others, Turkey being a real humm-dinger, Christmas is great fun at our house.

My Mrs says that breathing makes me fart.
(l4rd went back to his normal lurking on, Thu 19 Jul 2007, 9:16, Reply)

How bizarre.........
I just got e-mailed this story this morning.........i mean, this just happened to me last night, really........REALLY

One day I met a sweet gentleman and fell in love. When it became apparent that we would marry, I made the supreme sacrifice and gave up beans.
Some months later, on my birthday, my car broke down on the way home from work. Since I lived in the countryside I called my husband and told him that I would be late because I had to walk home.
On my way, I passed by a small diner and the odor of baked beans was more than I could stand. With miles to walk, I figured that I would walk off any ill effects by the time I reached home so I stopped at the diner and before I knew it, I had consumed three large orders of baked beans.
All the way home, I made sure that I released ALL the gas. Upon my arrival, my husband seemed excited to see me and exclaimed delightedly: "Darling I have a surprise for dinner tonight!" He then blindfolded me and led me to my chair at the dinner table. I took a seat and just as he was about to remove my blindfold, the telephone rang. He made me promise not to touch the blindfold until he returned and went to answer the call.
The baked beans I had consumed were still affecting me and the pressure was becoming most unbearable, so while my husband was out of the room I seized the opportunity, shifted my weight to one leg and let one go. It was not only loud, but it smelled like a fertilizer truck running over a skunk in front of a pulpwood mill. I took my napkin from my lap and fanned the air around vigorously. Then, I shifted to the other cheek; I ripped off three more. The stink was worse than cooked cabbage!!! Keeping my ears carefully tuned to the conversation in the other room, I went on like this for another few minutes. The pleasure was indescribable. When eventually the telephone farewells signalled the end of my freedom, I quickly fanned the air a few more times with my napkin, placed it on my lap and folded my hands back on it feeling very relieved and pleased with myself.
My face must have been the picture of innocence when my husband returned, apologizing for taking so long. He asked me if I had peeked through the blindfold, and I assured him that I had not. At this point, he removed the blindfold, and twelve dinner guests seated around the table chorused: "Happy Birthday!"

I Fainted!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

apologies for length, breadth, girth, repetition, breadth, ill use, fucking swearing, fish, minge and the state of your face. that is all.


it really did happen to me honest
( Just Flange, Thu 19 Jul 2007, 8:44, Reply)

Bad Grandpa
Back when we were teens my brother and I went to visit my grandparents one afternoon. Grandpa and Grandma were in their usual chairs and we were all having a nice chat. The conversation lulled a bit and a horribly rancid odor wafted through the room and over to where my brother and I sat. We shot each other a quick "was that you?" look when it attacked our nostrils. Both of us subtly denied our guilt to each other and fought to stifle the giggles. Just then, Grandma waved her hand in front of her nose and piped up with "Pew-eee Daddy. Did you poot?" Grandpa replied with a "Nope, it wasn't me" and then turned to my brother and me - winked and grinned. Grandma looked at us next and asked if it was "one of you kids." We shook our heads "no" certain that if we opened our mouths to speak we'd bust up laughing. Grandma shrugs her shoulders and by process of elimination says, "I guess it was me then. Pew! I reckon you could take a paddle and knock the shit out of that one." At this point my brother and I nearly fell off the sofa laughing. Grandma got the giggles and Grandpa just sat there with a smart-assed grin on his face and let Grandma go on thinking that she was the one who'd farted.
(unlimited accounts, Thu 19 Jul 2007, 8:17, Reply)

Konichi*parp*
Back in my London days (the hour of this posting should demonstrate an Antipodean address, or a Japanese work ethic, you work it out) I was on the tube, minding my own business and not making eye contact, as is dictated by the unwritten (ok, in some places written) laws of commuting in London.

Anyway, somewhere along the way an ancient Japanese man, (like the kind you see in kung fu movies with long white beards and warts, except this one was wearing a shiny tracksuit) embarked.

As the doors closed a strange sound made one or two people raise their lowered eyes. A second sounds caused a few more people to look around wondering what was going on. A third distinctly fart sounding noise had half of the carriage searching for the culprit. A fourth sound was obviously emanating from the little Japanese fella, as he was the only one not looking around trying to find the source.

And with the fifth and final 'toot', the doors opened and he trotted off.

Being a generally happy and positive person, I was looking forward to the feeling of mirth and camaraderie that would ensue once he disembarked and had my "oh these silly people!" and "only on the Tube!" facial expressions ready. But no. This was London. Everyone went furiously and determinedly back to their papers, books and ipods. More ashamed of themselves for risking making eye contact than that little Japanese fella will ever be for his sneaky arse trumpeting. Londoners should envy him his lack of shame. But maybe not emulate it...
(lessmiserable, Thu 19 Jul 2007, 7:56, Reply)

stuck on the pan
recently had surgery and was not supposed to move around for 6 hours. I had taken a laxative the day before so I wouldn't have to ask for a bedpan at the hospital. Apparently the laxative didn't work until a good 24 hours had passed. The nurses had just placed me in my bed and I felt the first intestinal rumblings on the horizon coming. I said "I have to pee" not letting on of the horrors to come. So four very nice workers said "don't move, keep yourself rolled like a log", we'll do the work", and then was rolled gently back on the bedpan. The gurgling started and an unearthly smell commnenced, with poo coming out my ass like a gallon of melted ice cream.

All I wanted to do was pee in the pan.
(grizzy898, Thu 19 Jul 2007, 7:42, Reply)

Dilemma
I really must love my g/f...

I live in a really cold part of the world, and our house is sadly lacking in central heating. As a result, the bedroom sometimes gets ice on the window, it's that cold.

The solution: head under the doona, where it's all nice and you don't get frostbitten ears.

The dilemma: the g/f is on the Atkins diet (loads of protein and bugger all roughage) and so, inevitably I have to make a choice...

She thinks my sudden interest in butt-plugs is kinky.

'pop' goes the cherry, not much length and girth but at least it has a cross-piece to stop it from going all the way in.
(pizzaforcat ate some cement and HARDENED the FUCK UP on, Thu 19 Jul 2007, 6:45, Reply)

hiyyyyaaa....pfft
I would say in middle school.. about 6th/5th year (-ish?) I was in a karate class. Parental units thought it might teach me some respect, and if trouble happened I might be able to handle it.... whatnot blah blah.
Well those damn belts were a big f'in deal to get. You had to take a big test in silence, do your moves, if you pass you get a belt. Big deal. Well it was all about respect and suspenseful bowing.
So it's complete utter silence and every time I took an step to punch/kick and did that "hiyyy-aaa!!" noise- I would fart....loudly. IN utter silence of the lambs silence. Noone said a word-it was disrespectful during a belt test. Except for my mother--- who had to leave for her laughter.
Years and years after this my mother still hears the "hiya---::fart::!!" step "hiyyyaaaa---::fart::!!!" echoing in her head.

Apologize for the length- but i saw the qotw topic and heard my mother's laughter in my head and had to share my torment.
(.shadowofmists. ::was 25 on the 23rd profile still says 21?::, Thu 19 Jul 2007, 6:11, Reply)

Snappyland
I once cleared-out a whole fucking slot machine arcade with a morning-after-the-night-before SBD. Legend.
(shitsarny, Thu 19 Jul 2007, 5:24, Reply)

poor old duffer
i bought a can of fart spray on holiday in spain, many years ago. wanting to test it out, i crept up behind some little old guy and sprayed it on the back of his pants. watching him trying to shuffle away from the stench of his own kecks was one of the funniest things i've ever seen.

length? he cleared the whole street!
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Thu 19 Jul 2007, 2:07, Reply)

In my last job...
...I was running up the stairs to get back to my desk before my break tracker ran out (yes it was that kind of office) and i passed the office geek-girl anouska, i let rip a silent but deadly, as i rounded the case i looked back to see her nose twitch under her glasses and a unpleasant look cross her face. For some reason, recalling this causes me to grin every time.
:D
( P3L3 is not my real name., Thu 19 Jul 2007, 2:01, Reply)

unexpected fart accident
this one time... (not at band camp but when I was younger!) I was mucking about with friends with all sorts of kids toys in my toy room. One of my cool items was an inflatable baseball bat I scored from the local community fair.

I decided to blow it up so we could whack each other over the head with it. As I was huffing and puffing into it I was unaware of a building up from my behind, all of a sudden without warning as I did a really big puff into the inflatable a simultaneous "Parrrrrp!" ripped out right in front of my mates!

Needless to say we all thought it was so funny that we couldn't stop giggling for a good 15 minutes.
(mudslinger lives in a house surrounded by pussy....... cats!, Thu 19 Jul 2007, 1:31, Reply)

How Many...?
I've never hidden the fact I've got IBS. That’s irritable bowel syndrome, not irritable bastard syndrome btw. It’s under control for the most part but there are invariably one or two incidents which betray the condition where a racehorse like postern blast scares everyone around you, or in the surrounding four toilet cubicles if you’re fortunate enough to make it to the relative safety of the karzi before blast off.

So it is that I get more than the average number of fart related incidents. It was a Pot Noodle that started my years of volcanic stomach activity. Evil things.

I've cleared school corridors, had people refuse to play rugby with me, been fined for it and more....

Flight to Los Angeles, September 2000. Stood waiting to go to the in flight karzi. The meds are losing their effect, clenching isn't enough and nobody's coming out. The noise of the plane in flight hid the sound, but pity the poor woman sat sleeping behind me when a 20 second rattler sped out of my backside and straight into her face. When the plane landed I was first off, no looking back!

I see someone else has had the 69 fart too. Sure am glad I'm not the only one. Got my own back later - SBD and pulled the duvet up over her head as I turned over. Women *do* fart, make no mistake about it!

During a very important brainwashing session at work, the Chief Executive finished his bullshitting and asked if there were any questions. That fart - a racehorse special - has gone down in the works folklore as the funniest thing to happen in the office. And certainly my monent of comedy triumph. At my upcoming leaving do I know that's going to come up.

IBS does leave you with a very sensitive stomach. Sushi bars can be a dangerous place to dine, as the subsequent gaseous output can often be worsened with the addition of the stink of fish. Especially at £10 per head all you can eat.

Despite the comms room at work being air conditioned, a sushi special hung in there for half an hour, much to the disapproval of colleagues. The second one - a sushi SBD - was enough to get me sent to an office over the other side of the city!
(Jamie and his magic bat You can bump n' grind, it is good for your mind, Wed 18 Jul 2007, 23:33, Reply)

perfect qotw for me?
probably
i drink farrrrrrrr to much coffee, have a very high fibre diet and work in a sweaty blacksmiths

my records include, a fart being smelt about 10m away no more than about 5 seconds after realse (no wind carrying it either)

countlessly being asked if i've farted again up to ten minutes after farting due to the smell lingering to well

making someone gag on countless occasions

the fact that my jeans smell of farts after work (you have no idea how fucking rank this is)

but for the grand finale i have managed the impossible, i am a man who no longer enjoys his own brand. Thats right, now my own farts repulse me they've got that bad.

oh and just for (almost)shits and giggles
i have aquired many a fantastic nick name due to my parping escapades
but the best two have to be
baldrick and "rot-bot"

length? well duration of over ten minutes
girth? a fall out zone of about 2 miles
(classic-spastic, Wed 18 Jul 2007, 23:21, Reply)

Mobile Fart Armoury
My mates and I continuously record our more tremorous trumps on our mobiles' "voice record" function, and get together at a later party and show off. I'm still working out a way to transfer these to the computer for exhibition all across the internets, but to no avail.

*pop*
(FredrickPendragon found this post to be in very bad taste on:, Wed 18 Jul 2007, 23:18, Reply)

fist pump
my old man occassionally had to go and deliver lectures to groups of judges on certain things they needed to consider when doing judging stuf in cases that involve children.

he was telling me of one occassion he travelled up to a court house up north to deliver one of these lectures to a bunch that included judge death and judge smelly, which in intself is quite amusing but not the point of the story.

Turns out that having completed his lecture to these venerable old men he was busy packing up his stuff when he urgently felt the need to let one go. Being that the old boys had only just left the room he decided it was safer to keep it in till he'd cleared the building. So he stuffed his papers into his bag and did a squeeky bum scamper off down the corridor toward the open air and the promise of sweet release.

As it happens the corridor opened out into a courtyard and shortly after bursting through the door, with a cursory glance ahead to see that the coast was clear, he not only let rip with a great trumpeting fart, but also exclaimed a triumphant "yesss" and topped it all off with a self congratulatory Henman type fist pump. It was apparently that good.

But then...spidey sense tingling, he turns to look behind him to see half of the judges he'd just been teaching stood to the left of the door he'd come barreling out, mouths agape at what they had just witnessed.

With little else he could do he gave them a wave, flashed a smile, turned on his heel and marched on his way. Face burnning with shame!
(Darth Vegas Poke It With A Stick, Wed 18 Jul 2007, 23:10, Reply)

fist pump
my old man occassionally had to go and deliver lectures to groups of judges on certain things they needed to consider when doing judging stuf in cases that involve children.

he was telling me of one occassion he travelled up to a court house up north to deliver one of these lectures to a bunch that included judge death and judge smelly, which in intself is quite amusing but not the point of the story.

Turns out that having completed his lecture to these venerable old men he was busy packing up his stuff when he urgently felt the need to let one go. Being that the old boys had only just left the room he decided it was safer to keep it in till he'd cleared the building. So he stuffed his papers into his bag and did a squeeky bum scamper off down the corridor toward the open air and the promise of sweet release.

As it happens the corridor opened out into a courtyard and shortly after bursting through the door, with a cursory glance ahead to see that the coast was clear, he not only let rip with a great trumpeting fart, but also exclaimed a triumphant "yesss" and topped it all off with a self congratulatory Henman type fist pump. It was apparently that good.

But then...spidey sense tingling, he turns to look behind him to see half of the judges he'd just been teaching stood to the left of the door he'd come barreling out, mouths agape at what they had just witnessed.

With little else he could do he gave them a wave, flashed a smile, turned on his heel and marched on his way. Face burnning with shame!
(Darth Vegas Poke It With A Stick, Wed 18 Jul 2007, 23:09, Reply)

Crouchfart
I have to be very vague here so as not to identify anyone.

A man with no name, who may or may not be a family friend, walked into my room to show me something on the interweb. I was seated. He crouched down to get on an more even level with the monitor.

*PARP*

"Excuse me"

And he just continued his sentence. He seemed so unflustered by it. Maybe he farts every time he crouches down.

My monitor is placed higher up now.
(StrongBad =! strong% AND StrongBad =! bad%: StrongBad = 1/0, Wed 18 Jul 2007, 23:00, Reply)

This just happened yesterday
As some b3tans may or may not be aware, I am a farty bugger. A work colleague of mine found this out when he was sat behind me the other day. Not so bad, you might think. However, I was bent over riffling through my bag at the time. I got him- right in the face. He wasn't amused- everyone else was creasing.
( jim_bob can herd cats., Wed 18 Jul 2007, 22:56, Reply)

The "other" hole
For any of you who don't know, the more time you spend playing with a woman's pussy during foreplay, and the longer you carry on for, the more moist, lubricated and loosened her pussy will get. Also, a small amount of air can get in there.

Also, internally speaking the anus and vagina are really close together, and when something is inserted into one of them, it exerts pressure on the other.

So be very careful the next time you decide, midway into lovely marathon session, that you want to cum in her arse.

The last time we did I fanny farted with each passionate, final thrust. We had to stop in the end, because we were both giggling too much and couldn't carry on.
(Bunny Mazonas, Wed 18 Jul 2007, 22:53, Reply)

It wasn't me, honest!
I used to work at a drug store with a photo center, in the days before 1-hour photos. The camera counter handled all the cameras, watches, electric razors (including the infamous and sadistic Epilady), cordless telephones (also a novelty, one that could be listened to on channel 3 on your TV set), etc. It also served as a low-price answer center, and people would commonly come in with some non-functioning gizmo and expect me to know what to do with it.

One couple came in, and a few minutes into helping them (oh dear, it still makes me retch) the foulest fart odor (it was nearly visible, it was that bad) came out of nowhere. Tears came to my eyes and I tried to finish the transaction in a single breath without inhaling. But the customers didn't seem to notice it. How can that be? Am I insane?

Turns out the gizmo was just in need of batteries, and I welcomed the opportunity to come out from behind the counter and to the battery display. I turned back just in time to see the wife slap the sheepish husband's arm, mouthing "That was you?"

I managed to maintain my composure and not embarass the poor guy.
( setimret likes his metaphors mixed, not stirred, Wed 18 Jul 2007, 22:21, Reply)

Uncle Ernie's Gravy Leg
As with a fair few people, I have an uncle who can fart on demand and with required pitch and vibrato. Ernie was on holiday with his wife in a cable car heading up a mountain, and decided to let out a subtle one. He couldn't get the power right though and followed through in a very liquid way. Unfortunately, he was wearing shorts, and it all dribbled down his leg and into his socks. By this time, the smell had spread to the other passengers all edging away to the far side of the car and tipping it a fair bit. All the while, my Aunt bursting with embarresment to the point of tears.
And then he had to come back down the mountain afterwards.
Thus the term Gravy Leg was born
( Ulic hissing slightly, Wed 18 Jul 2007, 22:18, Reply)