Work
Mam n Dad threw a party when i was 16 for their anniversary, also 'cos the house had been renovated. It was at this time, i discovered the pub and more importantly the joys of lock-ins and drinking until morning.

It was a saturday night. So i took it upon myself to stay awake and drink for as long and as much as i could.
Cue me going to sleep at 6:30am after staying up drinking with my uncles and cousin's, who were far more adapt at drinking than i was (being older than me).
However this was to be my downfall. After consuming the best part of a bottle of whisky, along with numerous cans of lager, i forgot i was meant to be in work at 9:00am.
My lift arrived at 8:15am, and finally managed to wake someone up at 8:30am.

I worked at a theme park at the time, so being massively still wasted i was trying to navigate my job as sober as possible.

And then i tried to let out a sneaky fart.

Which wasn't too bad, if it wasn't for the follow through of quite a lot of poo.

I ran to the bogs, ripped off my kecks, cleaned up, through my kecks in the bin, and went the rest of the day commando, praying not to fart until i was home.
(TinyDinosaur, Fri 13 Jul 2007, 15:15, Reply)

Flatulence, eh?
I'm quite renowned in my circle of friends (who amazingly are still my friends) for the frequency and potency of my arse-burps. In fact, I am known by some as the Devil's Arse.

To give but one example, several years ago I was in the local branch of Abbey National, as it was then. I was standing in the queue, wearing a ski jacket, as it was midwinter, when I let go a really hot, but silent fart. Emission of the foul essence into the air was delayed by the jacket, but when it got out it sought out its prey with a vengeance. Behind me in the queue were three young lads from the local private school.

They each blamed one another, then upon realising that none of them were in fact responsible, blamed it on some "dirty Dundee bastard". Who could not possibly have been me, as I just work here.

I may have given the game away though as I'm sure they must have seen my shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter.
( K2k6 has a proper job these days, Fri 13 Jul 2007, 15:15, Reply)

A rude awakening.....
Right.... first post be gentle etc, etc. One morning while still soundly asleep, Mrs. Child (standing at very cute 5 foot nothing and with a look that says butter wouldn't melt) decided to release a little excess gas her stomach had been holding onto overnight. Suddenly, I was violently brought back to consciousness and reeled from the vile stench that now surrounded me. On reflection the thing that made this special.... was the fact that it was completely silent and I continued to sleep peacefully for another few minutes before she moved and released the demon...... it was the godawful smell alone which had torn me from my state of rest!

Surprisingly, me and Mrs. Child are still together and a reduction of spicy foods and veg in her diet have helped prevent a repeat performance of that morning of which we do not speak. Except I've just posted it on here..... sh*t.

Length? About 2 minutes journey, arse to nose.
(VoodooChild "God knows I'm a Voodoo Child", Fri 13 Jul 2007, 15:14, Reply)

School assembly
School assembly, cross-legged on a wooden floor. God, it echoes.

"And deliver us from evil," said Mr George, reciting the Lord's Prayer, winding it up with the now familiar "Forever and ever..."

FAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARPGREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELP-pop-pop-pop-GRAAAAAAAAAMK!

"Amen"

Jesus, I am so, so sorry.
( Scaryduck LIKES EGG, Fri 13 Jul 2007, 15:12, Reply)

I once farted my own name
I was sat on a chair at a mates house and farted.. I swear it said "BARRY" starting low and rumbling and increasing the pitch towards the end..

I got excited and looked at my mates to say I thought it sounded like my name (expecting them to say it just sounded like a fart)... before i got to say anything one of them shouted "HAHAHAH You just farted your name!!! nice skills!"

BEAT THAT!

Length? about 3 seconds

(click I like this is you believe Barry is the gayest name in the country! - stupid sadistic parents)
(ShavenLunatic says touch your nose!, Fri 13 Jul 2007, 15:11, Reply)

The Dreaded Tummy Bubbles
The dreaded bubble of air in your tummy that happily does cartwheels and burbles for hours, oblivious to you sitting in quiet lecture hall, face burning and people staring accusingly.

Hypothetically, if I did fart, I could easily get a job powering hot air balloons... Sometimes I'm almost convinced the duvet covers are inflating.

But of course, I'm a girl, so it's not true I tell you!
( vix0r was not Matthew on, Fri 13 Jul 2007, 15:10, Reply)

Egg Tea
Me and a mate worked in a school as technicians. When lessons were on and the staffroom empty, we would often nip in on the way to the smoking room and pump in the kettle, quickly closing the lid after. Que two grown men legging it out the room giggling like two little girls....
(bong69, Fri 13 Jul 2007, 15:09, Reply)

i once managed to clear a two storey science block with a guff whilst waiting for the lesson to begin
there was a cluster of about 50 students from different classes all waiting outside the building when the teacher arrived. As he stepped up to the door, one lad said 'i'd give it 5 minutes if i were you sir'
( mictoboy shitting in your cunt since, Fri 13 Jul 2007, 15:05, Reply)

Saboturdge
One Maths lesson, many moons again, I was ripping off some of the dirtiest things this side of the Channel. My arse-clouds caused the teacher to purchase a shelf of those air-freshener things. But that is not this story, oh no. This story is one on ninja-like stealth, amazing bravery, and a cunning rectum.
At my (old) school, rivalry is high between the Maths teachers. And all the class rooms have ajoining doors. It's not unknown for a teacher to pop through into another lesson just to disrupt it. Next door to us was a Mr. Robinson, a beautiful kind of geek who proclaimed maths 'better than sex'. My teacher gave me a shocking mission. Go through into his classroom to pick up some 'text books', while eeking some rotters out along the way.
So I casually sauntered into his classroom, and went across to get the books. 'Puurrrt prappht puuurt' went my bottom as I trotted around, trying to ensure maximum coverage.
Every teacher in the school knew about it before the end of the day, Mr. Robinson is said to have made a notice in the staff room warning the other teachers that I was Mrs. Leat's secret anal weapon.
( Mr. Jack cracked the elite b3ta inner circle on, Fri 13 Jul 2007, 15:05, Reply)

Gotta love the elderly...
Was following an oldish lady up some stairs at a shopping centre a few years back. At first I thought the stairs were creaking, as she was a rather generous size, but it soon became blindingly obvious that the sounds I heard were actually old lady farts, being released with each and every step she took.

On another occasion just fairly recently, I wondered why old people just fart at will, not seeming to care if anyone hears them. I suppose that's one side effect of letting the batteries in your hearing aid run down.
( Shazzoir Old enough to know better young enough not to care, Fri 13 Jul 2007, 15:04, Reply)

Oh I forgot...
I was 24 at the time
(The Lithe Panther, Fri 13 Jul 2007, 15:04, Reply)

Following through
Going to meet friend A in London with other friend B. Had a decidedy dodgy arse. As my friend A and I are members of an elite club who have soiled themselve in public (mainly due to drinking) I phoned and told him to bring some immodium from his ample supply.

Friend texts at 1pm to say he can't make it.

Panic sets in. I'm in Harvey Nichols at this point and am concerned that the brewing fart may have (barely but enough to warrant worry) some substnce to it. I pop to the toilets where a dad is escorting his son. I go into cubicle and slowly let out a vile fart. Thankfully no residue. I leave. Dad gives me look of disgust and wonderment at the sulphuric stench.

3pm. SoHo. I fart and successfully emit nothing but purest gas. Result! Perhaps the immodium isn't needed...

5.30pm (or thereabouts)on Loughton tube station...
I decide to let another fart out. I must add at this point, that I am wearing some shorts with an underpant lining.

Fuckfuckfuck! Fucking fucker fuck! Bollocks! I have obviously followed through. Even though I have CLEARLY followed through, I insert hand to check. It's damp. Could just be sweat?

I bring hand to nose to smell. Nope. It's shit. The kind of shit I haven't done since a baby.

I can get away with this methinks.

No chance. Friend B's nose twitches. Twitches again. Looks at Chinese gent standing nearby with disgust. I can't help it...

'B.'
'Yes Lithepanther? Have you farted btw?'
'No, B. I've shit myself.'

I wander off. Shall I ise the ironically positioned Indian takeaway? No toilet.

Eventually I waddle in the way that only people who shit themselves can (and everyone knows your shame) to J Sainsbury and go in customer toilet. Taking off shorts, I clean myself up. Now, how do I clean the shorts? 'Fuck it' I think. Go to rip out lining.

It's made of industrial strength steel or something. Eventually - resourceful this and if it wasn't part of this story would probably get me a job in Mi6 shoud they ever care to interview me - I use the coat peg to saw off my lining. I walk outside, bid Dad and son combo 2 good day and leave.

Friend A likes this story. Friend B was so shocked he has never even used this as ammunition to take the piss.

*Apologies for length.
(The Lithe Panther, Fri 13 Jul 2007, 15:02, Reply)

Gas Machine
I drink far too much beer to ever be far from a trouser commotion, and these are usually loosed off with great abandon, studied nonchalence or vicious cruelty. Long, gaseous noise merchants, silent, evil kebab stinkers - you name it, but the only horror I have is the honeymoon period of sleeping with a new partner, that period in which thou shalt not fart is the number one bedtime rule.

Last year I embarked on a new relationship with a wonderful woman, and i'd been duely avoiding treating her to the full repertoire. One night, after copious pints of dark malty beer (not to mention chicken wings and Polish sausage) we were getting busy and I was lying on my back being treated to the delicious sexual ministrations of the blow-job. Feeling more adventurous, she started teasing my perineum, and who would have thought that a massage in that area would stimulate the fart reflex?

Well, it did, right in her face, you could practically see her bangs parting in the gust. I was mortified, but mercifully it didn't ming, not in the slightest, which is rare for me after meats. We're still together, and she still asks from time to time if it's safe for her to go down there, but as the honeymoon period is over, I fart with impunity anyway. As does she :-D

and...

Hardly original, but I once smoked up a joint in a Buckingham Palace toilet. There was a fellow outside with a sword and a horse-tail helmet - the full works, and there was me inside toking up a fat one. Luckily, i'd dropped my guts just before lighting up so the two stenches sorta mingled, cancelling each other out in the nasty way air-freshner does.

Then, wall-eyed and out of my gourd, I proceeded to mingle with the other guests invited to witness the investitures. I met one of my heroes, Ian Botham, and I swear he was looking at me jealously because he knew I was boxed, and Michael Caine called me a drunk, so I called him a shite-hawk and told him that there are plenty of treatments that can rid a man of the shards of greasy scalp that coated the tired old hack's shoulders.


It got worse - I dropped a fart during the ceremony that could have been heard in Wapping, and when the smell hit I was laughing so hard without opening my mouth that tears streamed down my eyes, I was a right old mess :-D
(Jay Tea, Fri 13 Jul 2007, 15:01, Reply)

Is there something wrong with me
I must fart about fifty times a day. After a meal - today was vegetable curry - I tend to fart everytime I move. If I walk up steps, each step produces a fart. It must account for many cubic metres of gas. I've never been constipated in my life. It's like a particle accellerator, my digestive tract. I can put anything in there of any amount or consistency and it comes out as a lovely soft poo.

Oh, I did once eat 15 doughnuts and my crap looked just like rabbit shite - those little raisin bits.
(frankspencer, Fri 13 Jul 2007, 15:00, Reply)

Romantic
Last valentines day I took Mrs. Maneki to a romantic restaurant for a romantic meal. The restaurant was tiny, and very classy, but as the evening wore on, I became uncharacteristically gassy. This was troublesome because my normally silent air enhancers were dangerously loud, in a restaurant crammed absolutely full of romantic couples jammed cheek by jowl.

So, I retired to the lav, planning to discretely release the building pressure before a spark ignited it, only to discover that the toilet was essentially a single small cubicle practically in the middle of the room. There was no complex of lavs, no chain of sound proof doors to pass through, only a single thin wooden door between me and the diners.

It was hell, as I struggled to quietly release this phenomenal build up of natural gas. I was only, I fear, partially successful.
(ManekiNeko loves horses, Fri 13 Jul 2007, 14:58, Reply)

My dad's colleague
Pa Jugular works in the factory where food is made for a company who's advert may or may not contain the following words "it's not just any...."

He arrived home one day to regale us all with the story of a colleague who shouted to the whole room:

"Hey, listen to this"

And then farted, loudly....

....and followed through.....

...whilst wearing thigh high wellies and industrial rubber safety trousers.

You can imagine how difficult, both physically and emotionally, it must have been for him to walk to the toilets and clean himself up

Living proof that pride, does indeed, come before a fall!

Additional: Pa Jugular's impression of the long, sad walk was comic genius
(Jugular, Fri 13 Jul 2007, 14:57, Reply)

I did a fart once only it wasn't a fart it was a burp ROFL.

( baldmonkey a frothy foul-smelling vaginal discharge, Fri 13 Jul 2007, 14:54, Reply)

I wore
lycra once, it didn't brighten up *anyone's* day. People are so sexist.

I don't fart. Sorry.
( Kroney, Fri 13 Jul 2007, 14:53, Reply)

Most important farting tip ever!
I can be a little trumpy at times. Had anyone else noticed that the ones that just sort of [sigh] out are the smelliest? But I digress.

Being of a trumpy type, I often used to find myself in meetings at work with a bowel full of gas, and unable to release it. Stomachular noises would ensue as my colon would recycle the gasses back into my intestines and back again (Is that just me? It's a most peculiar sensation). But then: THE ANSWER!

After completing your toilet, but before pulling up the kecks, take four sheets of toilet paper, still connected together. Fold in half, and then half again, so you have a single sheet, four times thickness. Press this between your spread arse cheeks to that the 'Mountain fold' thus formed lies pretty much central, with your nipsy pressed against the paper. Release cheek control, clamping the paper between the cheeks.

REMEMBER TO CONTINUE THE DRESSING PROCESS

You can now trump to your heart's content. The inability of the nipsy to 'speak' means that the gasses escape with nary a peep nor a squeek.

This tip is also useful for lardoes who suffer from sweaty-crack and the associated itching.

I call it 'The Grunt Baffle', and it is patented.

You may now read on.
( moogthedog, Fri 13 Jul 2007, 14:50, Reply)

one for the ladies
having read the comments of rachelswipe etc(BTW thinking of the lycra is cheering up an otherwise shit workday)why don't we include fanny farts in this? my ex used to do them all the time, ok no smell but the sound was bloody great!
(The kneeling rifleman Is slowly getting there.., Fri 13 Jul 2007, 14:48, Reply)

Oh dear, late again.
Anyway, this qotw brought back happy memorys of one of my school trips that occured many moons ago -100 'orrible little 'orrors descending on the french coast.

We were there for a week, and after the first two days, the change in diet (and the freely available beer) had produced drastic results in our limited and inexperienced 14-year-old digestive systems. On the third night, with the atmosphere in the boy's dormitory beginning to etch the windows, we decided to have a bash at that most noble of sports, fart-lighting.

Sadly, I cannot honestly regale you with tales of exploding bowels and singed pants, because in the event, it was a dismal failure. However, I will always treasure the memory of seeing my english teacher's face when he opened the door, gagged at the unholy smell, and stood there trying to piece together a half-rational explanation for the fact that we all appeared to be inserting burning matches into each other's rectums.
C'est la vie.
(incongruous, Fri 13 Jul 2007, 14:48, Reply)

Flatulence is the presence of a mixture of gases known as flatus in the digestive tract of mammals expelled from the rectum.
Flatus is expelled under pressure through the anus, whereby, as a result of the voluntary or involuntary tensing of the anal stinkhole, the rapid evacuation of gases from the lower intestine occurs. Depending upon the relative state of the sphincter (relaxed/tense) and the positions of the buttocks, this often results in an audible crackling or trumpeting sound, but gas can also be passed quietly. The olfactory components of flatulence include skatole, indole, and sulfurous compounds. The non-odorous gases are mainly nitrogen (ingested), carbon dioxide (produced by aerobic microbes or ingested), and hydrogen (produced by some microbes and consumed by others), as well as lesser amounts of oxygen (ingested) and methane (produced by anaerobic microbes). Odors result from trace amounts of other components (often containing sulfur compounds).
( VampireMonkeyOnSpeed a super sexy sexual sex terrorist sex, Fri 13 Jul 2007, 14:47, Reply)

Back in school,
the lunch room had tables with long wooden benches on either side that would fit about 5 people on each. It was not uncommon for people to loudly ejaculate "bench rumbler!" before letting one go and sending vibrations through the bench and everyone else's buttocks, much to the amusement of all. Unfortunately I once failed to realise the girl I fancied was on the end of the bench I had just finished rattling.

Length? It was short, but it traveled well enough...
(cap'nj, Fri 13 Jul 2007, 14:47, Reply)

oh yeah and...
fart = shit particles (airborne)

fact
(burkymurk likes to jerk, Fri 13 Jul 2007, 14:46, Reply)

Fart bitz
my mate goes mental when anyone farts in his car, propa mental
(burkymurk likes to jerk, Fri 13 Jul 2007, 14:43, Reply)

My brother
My brother was sat on a coffee table as he lifted his leg and to let rip a loud, wet-sounding fart.

The table leg fell off, and as the table tilted dangerously close to the ground, the dog shot out from underneath and my brother toppled to the floor, leg still in the air.

Moral of this story: check the stability of any surface you are sitting on before farting.
(Jugular, Fri 13 Jul 2007, 14:41, Reply)

Mallards
Me and my brother always refer to tuneful farts as "The Angry Mallards".
(NJ, Fri 13 Jul 2007, 14:40, Reply)

Terrance, I smell roses
kind off subject but here goes.

After a 12hr flight from LA to New Zealand and avoiding using the loo's on the plane, I arrived at my girlfriends place much in the need to curl one out. I sat down on the throne and proceeded to squeeze the baby out.

My girlfriend popped into the toilet which was in the bathroom to wash her hands but quickly changed her mind when she smelt the tangy aroma of fermenting airline food exiting my bum.

However the door out of the bathroom is right next to toilet, so to be a bastard I kept my legs propped against the door to prevent her from leaving so she could partake in the ages old game of guessing what I had to eat on the plane.

She quickly started to turn green, gagging and spluttering as her bathroom only had a tiny hatch window and my odorous fumes could go nowhere but straight into her lungs.

So I quickly wiped and exited out the door, just in time as she proceeded to puke her lunch out into the sink, overcome by my noxious fumes.
(Fudds Ghost, Fri 13 Jul 2007, 14:40, Reply)

Yesterday
After a Wednesday night bender on Strongbow I let one rip within the confides of my on room.

I actually had to check to see if I had shat myself the smell was so intense.

(I didn't btw).
(puggs, Fri 13 Jul 2007, 14:38, Reply)

Plane Fart
When I was 16 we had just been on a holiday in Turkey and we about to leave our hotel and go to the airport when i needed to fart. Along with other families we all jumped onto the mini bus destined for the airport. I really really needed to fart but had to hold it in cause there we're so many people on the bus. Got on the flight 3 hours later still holding it in.

Suffering from sever stomach cramps I went to the toilet on the plane at least 5 times but no matter how hard I tried I couldnt squeeze it out.

I suffered in agony for another 3 hours until we arrived home where i went into my room, elbows and knees on the floor, arse raised in the air and let out the loudest, most satisfying fart of my life.
(get on with it Über alles in der Welt, Fri 13 Jul 2007, 14:38, Reply)