All of you lot who reckon you have rough guts should try some of these and report back.
slightlyviral.com/beware-sugarless-gummy-bears-on-amazon-com/
( Dr Preference AjcuiVd289, Mon 20 Jan 2014, 15:33, 10 replies)

Hot chemical smells
I've just replaced a leaky memory backup battery in a piece of test equipment. It's dribbled nicad electrolyte all over the board, which of course releases a wide variety of odd smells when the soldering iron heats it up. I wasn't surprised by the more acrid smells but the sweet fruity ones were a bit odd.
(gordonjcp, Mon 20 Jan 2014, 14:50, 1 reply)

Chain Reaction
I shared an office with 3 blokes, with a shared interest in spicy food and cider. Farting was a regular occurrence, with no major hangups. Until I found out that Okra and my intestines do not mix. At all. After a morning of mild pain and pregnancy like build up, I let go a rather disappointing run of the mill sounding fart. What followed wasn't.
My colleagues and myself caught the stench of bilge, decay and death, and ran into the corridor laughing at the potency. The neighbouring office opened the door to the commotion and the permeating smell reached into that office. They all ran out down the corridor away from it. This continued past another 4 doors in turn where the smell seemed to be carried in fleeing peoples' wake then spread. Within a minute, the entire floor of the office had cleared outside. Workers returned after 10 minutes of sending in apprentice canaries. I was sent home "To Poo"
( Ulic hissing slightly, Mon 20 Jan 2014, 14:18, Reply)

my mate used to light his farts and we all thought this was well funny
but another mate said that it was proper dangerous because the fire can get back inside your anus and ignite all the methane in your gut, is he bullshitting?
( The Doveston haunted by the memory of his own amnesia, Mon 20 Jan 2014, 13:42, 24 replies)

Colin was obese
I dont mean that in the few too many pies and pints sense of the word, I mean he used crutches to walk, sat with his legs in the quarter to 3 position while his gut hung below his knees.

Put simply every day that Colin arrived at work I was equally surprised he'd survived another night without heart attack and disgusted by the odour that followed him.

It was quickly established that the open plan office wasn't going to be home for Colin and he was stuck in a small office down the corridor. While this may have saved the rest of the office it created problems of its own.

Now I'm sure that being that big comes with its own problems, god knows he couldn't have fitted in any bath tub I've ever seen. However you would expect a certain level of personal hygiene to be essential. I'm not convinced Colin followed that plan. I'm not convinced he washed at all.

Admittedly he was a sweaty bloke, to be fair lugging 30 stone around has got to be tiring, and the heat of the summer sun did nothing to make that easier. That's where the real problem was. Colin smelt terrible.

The vineagar like stench seems to concentrate in that room. I had to speak with Colin most days and noticed things getting worse as the weeks went by.

There was a young temp chap who shared the office. He quit, neglecting to say why at the time but I saw him a month later saying when he got home his clothes, hair and even skin stank of Colin. He was showering every time he got home and could still smell it and just couldn't bear being in the same room any longer!

The turning point for me was one very warm day and I swear inside that room you could actually see the fumes. It was that kind of blurry haze you get from petrol or strong spirits. It made my eyes sting, you could taste it in the air. I had to get out and never go back.

Sorry Colin, I stopped visiting and talking to you because your body odour made me nearly pass out.

Colin claims the best inventions of the 20th century are the mobile phone and fat free toffee yoghurt. I remain clueless as to how it's possible to get that big on fat free yoghurt...
(golddust QOTW now revolves around being a cunt, Mon 20 Jan 2014, 12:19, 11 replies)

Bone
I make parts for my own guitars. Now, rosewood is called rosewood because it smells (faintly) of roses when it's cut/sanded. It's quite pleasant. I use bone for nuts and saddles. I found out the hard way that I should use hand tools so that it doesn't overheat. One day I took the idea that I should grind a saddle to shape and thickness rather than using my usual method of filing and sanding.
Semi-burning hot bone smells like the arse of satan would if he was popping his demonic infected piles with red-hot needles and spraying the hot pus directly up your nostrils. Worse than that, the smell lingers in yur clothes/hair/furnishings for fucking ages.
(Captain Placid 24/7 ball gags, brownie mix and clown porn, Mon 20 Jan 2014, 11:24, 8 replies)

Dodging the smelly bullet
Some years ago I was moving house. The process had been a difficult one, partly because of Mrs Moon Monkey's insistence on moving at the same time as she was due to give birth (I believe they call it "nesting", but another name would be "adding a metric fucktonne of stress"), partly due to weird luck (the freeholder for the flat we were selling decided to drop dead on the day we were to exchange contracts), but mostly because the people buying the flat were irritating shits who complained about everything and attempted to use every possible excuse to get the price down.

Eventually, with the price now many thousands under the original agreement, we stumbled through the process and were all set to move. Even this last barrier was fraught, as The Shits suddenly announced on the day of completion that they didn't actually have the deposit they'd agreed to pay. Now THAT took some frantic sorting out!

But we got there. We were living in a cave in the piles of boxes containing our worldly possessions, waiting for the actual moving day. And then, without warning, The Stench arrived.

A foul miasma from the depths of the Earth wafted up from the floor, like something had crawled up Satan's arse and died. Dear god, it was rank; it could strip the varnish from the woodwork and bubble the enamel on the fridge. I learned several new forrin swearwords from my mother-in-law, who was staying to help with the new arrival. But weirdly, it came and went; hours would go by with nothing, then suddenly we were living in the lowest pit of Hades and inhaling perdition's putrid pumpings.

So what to do? Panic set in as all possible sources were checked and eliminated. Then we realised something wonderful: having completed the sale, this was now Somebody Else's Problem! The annoying couple who had screwed us out of every possible penny, and caused untold extra stress, were now the legal owners - of both the house and The Stench!

So, with a certain amount of guilt, we said nothing and disappeared into the night. I heard from the neighbours that they had to have the floor taken up and excavated in every single room of the flat, to locate the source: a sewer pipe (running under, but not related to, the flat) had cracked. Serves the fuckers right.
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Mon 20 Jan 2014, 10:43, 1 reply)

Never add a load of paprika to boiling olive oil.
Smell, is well, you try it.




and has the same effect as tear gas on humans, plan not use kitchen for about 4 hours
(smellysamlyingcable Seaman on, Mon 20 Jan 2014, 10:28, 11 replies)

She says that it was a bad curry, but they also got blind drunk
before christmas, my wife and her sister went for a night out at an indian restaurant. driving home at 3 in the morning my sister-in-law vomited pretty much over half the interior of my car. She got dropped off home, and my wife slouched into bed and passed out. I woke up early with a mission to go right across town to sort out my visa with the federales. Now this is in sao paulo, which not only is steamy hot,but also has more cars than any city on earth, and with it more traffic. I'd only just got out the garage when my brain decided to listen to urgent message my nose was telling it. "What the fuck?" I said aloud. There was vomit everywhere, it stank, and I couldn't put off this task. It took 3 hours to get across town in the hot traffic. And 3 to return. Then it took 300 reals to clean, they had to take the seats out. Thanks for reminding me about this happy episode, qotw
( cumquat may will not be commenting further on the allegations, Mon 20 Jan 2014, 10:21, 6 replies)

Hm, this topic may have saved someone's life
We have three bathrooms in our house and one of them doesn't get used very often, usually only when we have guests over. This weekend we've noticed that there's a really odd fishy smell whenever someone uses the shower in that bathroom - I've put half a bottle of Harpic down the drain just this morning - but I thought I'd google it before posting here.

Seems that the fishy smell is most likely overheating insulation in the electric shower and we need to get an electrician to look at it before letting anyone else use it. Never would have guessed that.
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Mon 20 Jan 2014, 10:11, 14 replies)

Decaying rat
Time to roast a pea... a few years ago I used to live in a fairly typical-for-the-area wooden framed house. This was San Francisco - wood's better for the earthquakes, y'know. Depending on the quality of the builder, or lack thereof, there can be a number of gaps in the woodwork.

I thought I'd got rid of most of them, but one winter's eve we were settling down to sleep and a remarkably pungent smell wafted across the bedroom. "Was that you farting again?!" says Mrs Biscuit... but lo it was not me, as I can't pull off trying to lie about such a thing without giggling without a loon.

"Maybe it's a gas leak", says she, "let's go to sleep and deal with it in the morning". Flawed logic, but at least I knew that there were no gas pipes under that room so we were safe from being blown up. But wtf was going on?

That night was rather terrible - depending on which way the wind was gusting, the smell was getting worse and worse.

I took the day off to sort it out - perhaps in hindsight I should have been less fucking Scottish about the whole thing and just paid someone to take care of it.

Careful measurements indicated just which part of the ceiling on the floor below to cut into, to see what the problem was, and the trusty saw was taking care of business just fine. I knew I'd hit the right spot as the stench was just getting stronger and stronger... until the saw happened to hit a rather damp patch, and I knew I was in trouble.

But I persevered, and eventually the square of ceiling plasterboard came loose. Using a mirror as a makeshift periscope to see just what was going on I bore witness.

Giant. Dead. Rat. Well now two halves of it at least. And a truly horrid stench of utter pestilence. Grabbing many plastic bags to use as gloves, I reached in to pick up the back half to deposit it into the bin, and my thumb disappeared into its innards, merely perpetrating yet more stench. I'm surprised I didn't puke on the spot. The smell of death is seriously the worst thing ever.

Yes, I should've damn well just paid someone...
(airbiscuit last dropped a meaty one in the lift on, Mon 20 Jan 2014, 3:50, 5 replies)

Easy.
Dr Shambolic has a passion for eating fresh laid dog shit.

Job done.
( Tesco Quality 60.825659, -0.788337, Sun 19 Jan 2014, 23:49, 3 replies)

Under a previous username, Big Willy Shakespeare,
I was given the freedom of a village near Frome.

Henceforth It became known as Bard's Mells.

Be honest. I had fuck all to work with.
( edjogs Collared doves are shit., Sun 19 Jan 2014, 22:41, 6 replies)

I've learnt a trick
I tell myself not to smell something and I cant. The only downside of this is that I sometimes forget to turn it back on again and food is just nutrition and nothing more. In my line of work its an advantage to sometimes be unable to smell...

Take Friday - I was handling a lot of very smelly puppies. I failed to realise until slightly too late that the feet were caked in shit. This meant that my shirt was fairly smelly within minutes. I didn't think it was so bad as I had "tuned it out" as per usual. Once lunchtime came and I sat down to enjoy my lunch I became overwhelmed with the smell of dogshit and only then did I work out that I might need to change my clothes.

Years ago I used to get involved with the process of removing retained placentae from the uteri of cattle. This is deeply unpleasant. They have usually rotted for a few days before someone is called in to remove them. Double gloves and lots of washing just don't quite get rid of the smell.

I could go on and on and on but I wont but I will say that my job is the best for "fart disguise"v as I really can 'blame it in the dog'. However, I'm pretty convinced that dog fart and human fart are able to be separated by the human nose.
(gearanach #wankwankwank, Sun 19 Jan 2014, 22:37, Reply)

When I was about 10 years old some of the men of the village had salmon nets set up at the end of a point of land. They'd had some trouble with a particular seal wrecking their nets, resolving the situation by shooting the fucker the head. With a final gurgled exhalation the aquatic canine sank into the murky depths.

A couple of days later, buoyed by an abdomen full of corpse gas the seal bobbed back up. Us kids saw it and hatched a plan to skin it.

It was as we hauled the beasty into the rowing boat the inevitable deflation occurred via it's arse.

All you slack jawed Nancy boys claiming to have smelled something really bad don't know what the fuck you're talking about.
( Ring Of Fire A petty, drooling belming butthurt retard., Sun 19 Jan 2014, 20:34, 7 replies)

pearoast from a previous qotw
for about 6 months after I finished uni I worked in a towbar factory and one of the few pleasures I had while working there would be walking through the workshop where the towbars were welded to fetch boxes to pack the finished bars in. because of the amount of noise created by a dozen or so men busily welding I was free to drop my guts as loudly as I liked on my way through only to pause on my way back while everyone was standing around accusing each other of releasing such an offensive odour to register my disgust and enquire "which one of you filthy gypos did that?"
( Reme Philips laid an epic dump on, Sun 19 Jan 2014, 20:15, Reply)

Needs medical help.
A guy I used to work with related this story to me:

Three of them were tasked to upgrade a few hundred PC's. The day before a plan was devised. One of them would do the upgrades in a small office whilst one other dropped each PC off, the 3rd person would pick up a completed PC and put it back on its original desk.

This plan was formulated the evening before whilst the 3 of them were eating a good curry and drinking a few Guinnesses.

As you can imagine a parallel plot was devised by the two chaps who happened to drop off more than an a PC each time they visited the now rather humid office. Yep, they barked, trumped,guffed and nay nearly sharted, thinking it was the funniest punishment for the lazy fecker who sat in the office whilst they lugged kit around.

What they didn't anticipate was the firms IT manager turning up to check on them on a Saturday. He walked into the office to see the progress, he no doubt turned a bit greeny/yellow before saying to the two guys humping kit around - "Is your mate OK?, I think he may need to see a doctor as our comms room next door has generated a few humidity and temp alarms".

Apparently the guy stuck in the office described it as been at a "Bhopal Disco"
( Signify, Sun 19 Jan 2014, 20:01, Reply)

WHSmiths, Cambridge, way back when I were an awkward teen;
I let rip a silent-but-violent and when rounding the top of the aisle, found a you lady checking her baby's nappy... Oops!
(Ruffgeezer back again like a bad smell., Sun 19 Jan 2014, 17:51, Reply)

I once had a ten kilo sack of prawn cocktail crisp flavouring burst on my shoulder
Twenty five years later I still smell like your mum.
( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Sun 19 Jan 2014, 16:53, 6 replies)

I once..
Did a fart in a revolving door..
as well as rolling over to my (now ex, and this tale is not the reason shes my ex)girlfriends side of the bed, let of a stinker, rolled back to my side, and tucked the duvet down to contain it.
They say your own farts dont smell...this proves that theory wrong, two minutes of this odour, dissolving into the very fabric of our bed had us both up for an hour while we drank some hot chocolate, and allowed a room freshner do its business.
(lordy lordy, Sun 19 Jan 2014, 16:01, Reply)

Next door to the Stoke Makro store was/is an animal feed factory, Bocm Pauls.
It made the car park stink of death and turn your stomach as you arrive. How Makro itself smelled worse once you entered is almost impressive.

And why have we got this far through qotw without someone posting "and I thought that they smelled bad on the outside"?
( Pig Bodine., Sun 19 Jan 2014, 13:23, Reply)

Long story short I smelled my own mouth.

( Dr Preference AjcuiVd289, Sun 19 Jan 2014, 12:34, 1 reply)

I once opened a jar of pickled onions
that had been languishing in a cupboard in my TARDIS for 500 years.

They smelt fine and tasted OK because not only were they pickled, but also they existed in a state of temporal grace within my TARDIS which prevents things from going off.

But don't worry, fans! I have an extremely long and insanely hilarious story about a VERY bad smell which I will post in due course!
(Dr Skagra glorious glargzhem, Sun 19 Jan 2014, 11:40, 1 reply)

Whilst experimenting with cooking in the kitchen, I discovered that one should..
Never, EVER fry cucumber..
(danniekavanagh did nothing constructive on, Sun 19 Jan 2014, 10:21, 7 replies)

Wood preservative
One of the things a workman (affectionately known as "Psycho I") left behind when he sought help for the meth addiction was a foul-smelling, slowly-leaking can labelled "Wood Preservative (with phenol)." I wanted to get rid of the can, but it screamed toxic waste. But it did say wood preservative. And I had some wooden timbers bordering my driveway that, while already preserved, looked they could stand a coat of this foul, oily liquid. So, I poured out some of the gut-churning goo into a cup and painted the top of one timber.

Big mistake. Big, big mistake. It was SO smelly that it threatened the entire neighborhood. It was clear I had recreated Bhopal in my driveway. So, I hurriedly ripped the timber out of the ground, threw it into the car, and drove off before my ex-cop next-door neighbor came poking his head into my driveway to find out what was going on (I missed him by two minutes).

I always wondered why people engaged in illegal dumping. Now I knew. I drive into a desolate area of an unfamiliar neighborhood and dumped the timber.

When I returned, I continued the cleanup, tossing tainted gravel into garbage bags and throwing away befouled towels and clothes (sadly some good ones too). I had got a bit of the oily goo on the upholstery of the car, and my car smelled like the industrial ass for weeks. And I still had some left.
(Perv With A Dog had his eyes pecked out by scrub jays on, Sun 19 Jan 2014, 9:54, 2 replies)

My shed stinks.
My Lego doesn't smell too clever either.
( Fucking hell Jeff I am not a robot, Sat 18 Jan 2014, 21:30, 2 replies)

Bank revenge
I read this somewhere, years ago, can't now remember where, who or even why. Bank safe-deposit boxes are pretty much a thing of the past, when they were still common the box was inviolate and couldn't be opened by the bank without a court order.

Somebody, after experiencing what they saw as very poor customer service, prepaid for a year's storage of 'certain valuables' as they would be working abroad in a place not known for safety of personal possessions. Loaded their safety box and left the country.

When after several weeks of deteriorating air quality in their vaults, the bank finally got a court order permitting entry to the safe, they found what had actually been deposited was a very large uncooked mackerel wrapped in newspaper.
(Carpe Cyprinidae, Sat 18 Jan 2014, 19:32, 4 replies)

So I used to go fishing
And not being rich enough to afford maggots, collected a load of worms from the garden and stored about a hundred of them in a bait box.

And forgot about them for a fortnight.

I couldn't afford a new bait box so had to open it up and wash it. The smell that came out must be familiar only to SOCO people and professional grave robbers. Christ.
(rogerzilla, Sat 18 Jan 2014, 18:03, 1 reply)

When my daughter was born
My wife's parents came to stay with us for a bit to help us adjust to having a wee one. She's Chinese and we were living in Beijing, so pretty much standard practise. What I did not expect was the boxes of food they brought (they clearly intended to do all the cooking, which was nice although a bit of forewarning would have been nice), and the bucket of eels. Now eels are a Jiangsu delicacy, and served in a nice sauce they are delicious. But live fish in a bucket in your kitchen seemed a bit much. But hey-ho, you're in China and weird shit happens all the time, so no matter.

Fortunately the in-laws didn't stay too long, as the wife and I somehow managed to feed, change and bathe our daughter. Once they'd buggered off back home, though, a dreadful fishy smell remained in the kitchen. It seemed to be coming from the drains. I tried bleach - the smell remained. Mr Muscle and all the - still the smell. Bicarb and vinegar - motherfucking what? STILL STINKS OF EELS.

I was practically taking the kitchen apart by now. At last I looked behind the oven, and found he horror of a decomposing eel rotting away there. How had it got there? How can you lose a fucking eel?

I don't let them bring live animals of any kind into my apartment any more.
(McChinaman banned, Sat 18 Jan 2014, 15:11, 3 replies)

Hahahayeah.Farts. Old people. Ahahahahaha. Unblocking drains. Hahaha. Priceless.

( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Sat 18 Jan 2014, 14:36, 25 replies)