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I've been pretty farty all week, but 2 large helpings of sausage and lentil stew last night have really tipped things over the edge. I swear you can see these ones.
I'm here at work trying to hold them in so I (a) don't have to keep nipping to the loo like a madman and (b) don't gas half the office, but it's becoming increasingly difficult. I might rupture something if I'm not careful.
Tell us all about your own fartiness.
( , Fri 13 Jul 2007, 14:01)
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Following a night on the delightful yet oh so sulphurous Marstons Pedigree, the morning after tends to be quite lively parp-wise.
However my worst experience was at uni after several pints of cheap bitter and a much hotter than usual chicken madras.
The next morning I met my mate as we went down to the Students Union to buy tickets for a forthcoming event. In the queue I unwittingly unleashed a voluminous yet silent fart so malodourously rancid and steel meltingly hot that it actually created a visible heat haze in the corridor, not unlike those seen on a formula one race track. It was a fart so bad it stripped the wallpaper from the ceiling.
The poor sods behind me didn't stand a chance, they were doomed like World War One troops caught in a mustard gas filled trench. My mate ran off, aghast with his hand clamped over his mouth, gasping desperately for fresh air.
Despite my shame, I got served first unsuprisingly although the girl at the counter looked a little green and somewhat shocked.
Further events unfolded involving me being doubled over with stomach cramps on a bus and me rendering a city centre pub toilet a no go zone but I won't go into details. Needless to say, Chemical Ali would have paid a lot to bottle that particular offering.
( , Fri 13 Jul 2007, 16:28, Reply)
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