magic stand from ilichie.com
www.indiegogo.com/projects/magic-stand/x/6049738

I bought one of these and it smells of shit
It's obviously been up many a chinaman's bumhole
( drimble he'd been white, he'd been black, Wed 22 Jan 2014, 6:18, 2 replies)

Broccoli, smells of death
I work for a company that sells cleaning products that are used in places like food packing plants. Therefore I sometimes have to visit these places to help advise what will do the best job, and keep the place clean, sanitary and up to regulations.

One that sticks in my mind was a veg packing plant. Lovely place, scrupulously clean, however, the problem wasn't the factory. It was what it was packing that day. Broccoli.

Now you may think broccoli doesn't smell that bad, and in small portions I'd agree. They didn't have a small portion on site, they had 8 tonnes from a local farm. That's a whole different ballgame. 8 tonnes of broccoli smells like mutant cabbage with a flatulence problem.

Not eaten it since
(Sir Tainley Barking Ezekiel 23:20, Wed 22 Jan 2014, 0:25, Reply)

Wiltshire tractors and the tank of shit
THis thread reminds me of when I used to live in Wiltshire, Trowbridge to be exact. Its a semi rural area so if you go down some of the backroads you are more than likely to come across farm traffic, or in our case on the backroad from Holt to Bradford on Avon, a tractor pulling a muck spreader that had obviously just been filled with the semi sentient contents of a slurry tank, that had been allowed to fester for at least a year.

It was a narrow road, so we couldn't overtake, so had to plod behind it in the car, watching the paint start to flake off the bonnet, and the windscreen start to warp.

OK so with the windows tight shut, we were there for the duration. As we passed a couple of young lads, all dressed up, obviously off into town to "Impress the ladeez" we spotted an astonishing transformation in their walk and attitude.

Where beforehand they were obviously jack the lad, preparing to strut their stuff, you could see them visibly shrink and start to lose their swagger

cue them trying to cover their faces and looking rather unwell.

I got the feeling that for them that particular night would have been a bit of a dead loss
(Sir Tainley Barking Ezekiel 23:20, Wed 22 Jan 2014, 0:14, 1 reply)

My cock stinks
...at Whitley Bay.
(AndyC4m Eject Eject [><], Tue 21 Jan 2014, 22:57, 6 replies)

My mate Sylvan,
At primary school, my mate Sylvan said that he'd farted into a Tupperware box and put it in the fridge, and the next morning there was a cabbage in the box. I believed him.
(Smale is stuffed, Tue 21 Jan 2014, 20:12, 6 replies)

Pike
As a child I was obsessed with mother nature - finding fox skulls, birds nests, collecting anything that nature was done with, carefully labeling it and putting on display in my lab (otherwise known as "the spare room") One successful mission resulted in me finding a 2' long freshly dead pike. Apparently the local fishermen used to catch them and leave them on the banks to save the other nicer fish.

I trotted this pike home, and placed it carefully on the garage roof, to let the summer sun and flies do their business, and I would eventually be left with a perfect, complete pike skeleton to add to my collection.

I then, with a spectualar timing, went on a 2 week camping trip with the school cadets.

Upon my return, i discovered my parents were at their wits end - the house smelled generally rank - they had no idea why the bathroom (above the garage) smelled of dead bodies. There were flies everywhere, and a stench so pervasive they could barely sleep. My dad had torn apart the plumbing system trying to find a leak or blockage.

I guess my "ah, about that..." look gave it away.

Honestly - I don't recall the punishment -it was so horrendous I think I've blocked it from my memory, but I am sure it involved scrubbing the roof, walls, gutters and inside of the garage to remove the rancid fish juice and blowfly maggots.

The real punishment was that I never did get my skeleton.
.
.
( gp_guineapig, Tue 21 Jan 2014, 19:29, 5 replies)

I'm colourblind in my nose
...so I'm at a disadvantage this week. But it has reminded me of the probable cause of my nasal disability.

"Here, smell this, it's amazing," said my mate, proffering a glass bottle he'd found. Ever trustful, I snurfed an heroic lungful up my not inconsiderable hooter.

As it turns out, that's not a great idea with undiluted ammonia.
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Tue 21 Jan 2014, 17:01, 5 replies)

Back when I was about seven

My mate tried to incubate an egg by wrapping it in a pair of his kecks and putting it on the radiator. I told him he was full of shit, but he was confident it work, and then promptly forgot about it.
About three months later, he found it again, and decided to crack it open, instantly started retching and threw up all over the place. To this day it has to be one of the foulest-smelling things I've ever had the misfortune to come across.
( Turquoise Hexagon Sun has just dropped acid on, Tue 21 Jan 2014, 16:51, 1 reply)

Not my story, but a friends.
I'd attended what could only be described as a bukkake party, along with numerous other guys and one filthy middle aged slag. Three or four men at a time were spraying their cock-porridge onto her face and tits until she looked Dan Ackroyd from the closing scenes of Ghostbusters.

It stank like a dewy London park on a summers morning. I polled the other guys standing around about in an overly autistic fashion for the benefit of the story, to see if it was just me who thought this. Apparently, 97% agreed it stank and the nine who didn't were only there for the smell of spunk anyway.

Anyway, long story short: YM.
( Muns, Tue 21 Jan 2014, 16:41, 1 reply)

Safe sex
"Come on in and smell this", he said.

I was reluctant at first. I barely new him. I was at work. This was an important customer. Should we be this friendly after only a few meetings?

He beckoned me into his 'office'. A small dark non-rectangular room with discarded office furniture reclaimed as the occupier's own. This man. This hippy. This weirdo. He had hung posters on the wall of bands I'd never heard of. There were ancient sequential copies of PCW magazine on a heaving shelf. He'd positioned a growing collection of disfigured action figures around the room.

In the corner sat an old but serviceable safe. The type you see in black and white crime caper films.

"Come here", he said grinning, "Put your head in there and smell it".

The heavy door was persuaded open.

I leant in. I smelled. I grimaced.

"Smells like cum doesn't it?" he queried.

"Yes", I replied with a frown.
(daddypigsaw Geddinthebackothevan!, Tue 21 Jan 2014, 13:49, 2 replies)

Bag of Eternal Stench
Our understairs cupboard started to stink. At first, it was just a light corruption in the air. After a month or two of summer, it was gas mask time whenever you wanted to retrieve a coat or shoes, so we decided to find out once and for all what it was.

After removing about half the items, one by one, suspicion homed in on a rather old fleece. In one pocket we found a plastic bag full of black liquid, clearly the source of the stench. A plastic bag, tied at the top, is pretty watertight, but not so airtight that noxious fumes will be contained. Slowly, they leak out, and if what they are leaking out into is a small cupboard, then nauseating stinkiness ensues. The Bag of Eternal Stench was immediately disposed of in the outside bin, but the mystery remained. What was it?

The answer came to us a few days later. In the spring, we had been to visit the horses at the local riding school and had taken some carrots with us. We ended up not using them, and as the weather then warmed up to the point where a fleece was not necessary, the fleece remained undisturbed in the back of the cupboard for months.

TL;DR - If you like carrots, don't read this.
( Amish Information Systems hates misplaced, commas, Tue 21 Jan 2014, 12:24, 2 replies)

Projectile smell cannon
Used to work in an old computer store in Swansea (closed down now, oh the loss :p) and we had a fair few regular customers. We gave nicknames to alot of them as ya do and one such customer was Cat Piss Man.

CPM stank. Every time he came into the store it would always be a case of practically every member of staff making an excuse to leave the shop floor and leave the YTS guy to help him. He resembled a really rough version of Mr Rossi ("Miiiiista Rossi don't you know...") and gave off an odour that seemed to be a mix of b-o and cat piss.

Anyhow the Sony Playstation had just been released to the general public and he wanted one. Our store did a part exchange service and he brought in his SNES; the Street Fighter 2 Turbo bundle no doubt, and after we were all accosted to testing his console out and securing the sale he leaves with his PSOne to return home to Stinksville. Our boss immediately sends one of the guys around to the chemist next door to buy a pack of wet wipes just to restore the console into a resell-able item.

The old SNES boxes were essentially bundled as a large rectangular polystyrene block which held everything, with a thick card sleeve which was sealed on one side slid over it. So we took the sleeve off, put a price sticker on it and chucked it on the shelf. And the sleeve stank of cat piss. The cat must've used it as a home, the sleeve was saturated in the stuff and no amount of air freshener would clear it.

So we did what any self respecting human would do. Did we destroy it? Burn it and just sell the console unboxed? Or did we make the YTS guy look into the open part of the sleeve, then squeeze the sealed end to make an invisible cat-piss cloud for him to breathe in, causing him to gag and run to the toilet puking everywhere?

The Cat Piss Cannon was born.

We must've nailed about 20 regular customers with it too :) The day we actually sold the console, we boxed it up and slid the sleeve over it, bagging it all up to make sure the customer who purchased it didn't have a clue. There was an impromptu moment as the store staff sniffed a final farewell and the cannon left the store for lands anew. We like to think that the cannon was mounted onto a fence outside the house of the new owner, keeping Jehova's Witnesses at bay.
( Jeccius Steam Borderlands 2 junkie, Tue 21 Jan 2014, 10:59, Reply)

Now as you know I am sans bumole
Now whatever part of the large intestine they removed must have been solely responsible for removing the foulest smells from your shit leaving it only moderately gag-tastic.

The effluence that currently emerges from my body could be sold to the Syrian rebels and used to wipe out a small city. Just stick one of my used bags into a catapult device and launch into an offending city and watch the fuckers come out waving white flags quicker than the french with the 3rd Reich on their doorstep.

The worst is hangover bag, it is the smell of satan's breath himself. Now usually there are little filters that let the gas out and they actually filter out the smell but when they get wet they stop releasing gas. So I wake up in the morning with a bag like the Hindenburg. Now imagine how bad one hangover fart is, I've got a bag of the fuckers. Nothing will induce vomiting quicker than a bag of hangover farts/shit.

tl:dr, No bumhole, bags smell of death.
(bumless The man with the hole in the middle, Tue 21 Jan 2014, 10:00, 30 replies)

Beauvais.
For reasons unclear to me, I ended up spending the night in Beauvais, a satellite town of Paris.

It honks.
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Tue 21 Jan 2014, 9:39, 2 replies)

Burning balls
About a year ago, I had a vasectomy. I've got 2 kids and that is enough for me. I opted for a procedure where they poke a hole in your scrote, pull out the tubes and then frazzle them with a hot poker. Sounded good!

I happened to get the last appointment of the day. As I was called in to the room (of doom) I was hit by a very strong smell akin to that of burnt pork. It then dawned on my that I was inhaling the smell of burnt bollocks from around 10 other guys. I was fairly calm up until this point but this put the fear of god into me.

The procedure was as horrific as you may think but the definite low point was the sound of him frazzling my nuts with the hot poker and then actually seeing the smoke rise from between my legs.

Thank god you only have to do it once.
(Tom Jones's Mojo Hasn't had any since, Tue 21 Jan 2014, 8:27, 1 reply)

When I worked in my first job back in Cambridge someone in the QC lab dropped and smashed a 200ml bottle of a substance called TEMED . This is a foul-smelling, oily substance used prepare biological samples for later analysis and is usually handled in microlitre quantities inside a working fume hood with tonnes of ventilation.
As Senior Technician I was alerted to this incident and proceeded at pace to the site of the spill. I got no further than halfway along the first corridor, though, before my eyes began to water and I felt the urge to wretch. Imagine that you had taken the rancid waste from a fishmonger's and left it in the Melbourne heat for a few days until nice and ripe, then doused it in bleach and left it for another day. That is perhaps a tenth of the vile stench that wafted through the workplace on that day.
(sleekloon Curing Cancer one cell at a time., Tue 21 Jan 2014, 8:17, Reply)

The Toilet of The Damned
I've lived away from the UK for.... oooh... almost 10 years, but even now I'm haunted by the foulest of stenches I ever retched at - that public toilet behind the BP station at the top of Handcross Hill, on the southbound side just before the M23 dips out of the north downs and becomes the A23, pretty much halfway between work & home.

We've all been in public toilets with that stink of course, that eye-watering stink of matured smegma and desiccated bum candy, but the intensity in that loo was (is?) just phenomenal, its like they were entering a fucking competition. And how does a smell stick? It was impossible not to drag a greasy aura back into the car, to catch you out having breathed through the mouth since before the car came to a full stop.

The weird thing is, I sometimes used to stop there for a piss when I didn't really need one, as if subconsciously rising to a subconscious challenge. Kind of in the same camp as licking battery terminals.
(J H Christ began in Afrika ka ka ka ka, Tue 21 Jan 2014, 3:23, 1 reply)

Bastard truck drivers
I once worked as a fitter at an asphalt plant. Christmas break was when most places do all their shutdown maintenance, so they are all good for the next year of business. It's also usually around 38deg C on average. We're doing shutdown maintenance, so is the local sewerage farm, all their sludgey old shit is being carted out in trucks. It sticks to the sides, there is ooze come out between the body and the tailgate and dripping on the ground. These trucks were using our weighbridge, as we were just down the road. Bastard truck drivers, pull up, park right next to our smoko area, then leave their cabs and fuck off down the road for their smoko.
CUNTS.....Imagine having your smoko next to every rotting shit, every person in the town has had in the last year.
(M61A1 CUPID- STUNTS, Tue 21 Jan 2014, 3:01, 4 replies)

My brother's car
I hate my brother. I haven't seen him now for 16 years.

His pride and joy was his Hyundai Lantra. I used to tip milk over his engine so when he was driving along the stench of burning milk was blown through his air conditioning and stink out his car. For over a year the car went back and forwards to the garage while puzzled mechanics couldn't trace the awful burning smell. Cost him a fortune.

If you really hate someone pour milk over the engine of their car - the stench is truly incredible and clings to you as only burning milk can :)
(Big Ted, Tue 21 Jan 2014, 1:23, 1 reply)

A46
Very specific here, but to anyone who has ever had the misfortune to drive down the A46 towards Syston in Leicestershire, just after the junction with the A6.

I don't know what there is there - maybe an open tip, a sewage treatment centre, where they store all the dead bodies in the world until they mutate into a pond of genetic waste, but when you drive past in winter it makes you gag. As the weather warms, it only gets worse.

I made the mistake of driving down that way a few summers ago when we had a hottish day and got stuck in a traffic jam in the offending area. Luckily, I knew what was coming so closed the vents, turned on the recycled air and sat back and watched. I counted at least 4 people leaving their cars to throw up, and lots of scrunched faces holding back the puke.

My favourite was the woman in the convertible just leaning over the door of her car, throwing up down the door and just carrying on with her coffee.
(Strump striving for imperfection since, Mon 20 Jan 2014, 23:08, 2 replies)

Flea market wall of stench
We were walking along when we noticed people acting weird. After a few moments we realized what was going on. It wasn't just weird; people were puking. There was a putrid stench coming from something, somewhere, that was so vile and so powerful that it took everything I had to try and get away without barfing. It was like a million portapotties all tipped over at once right at one's feet. We never did figure out what it was.
( cowcat Bituminous squeegee, Mon 20 Jan 2014, 22:15, 1 reply)

Coons.

(dozers, do fuck off ur a nob m8, Mon 20 Jan 2014, 20:36, 5 replies)

Dead (partial) rat
Spent a couple of years as a lad working in medical research. One of my jobs was to maintain a colony of rats. Not just any old rats, but very expensive ones with a specific genetic defect, useful for experiments. Each one cost more than I earned in a week. They normally had a room to themselves, but as we were short of space some standard white rats were moved in to share temporarily. Unfortunately, one of the side effects of the defect was a weak immune system and my very expensive rats started dropping like flies with something picked up from the lodgers.
Rats are lovely creatures, but regard everything as food, including their dead mates. Every day I had to clear out the remains from the cages, a tail, a pair of back legs (they always seemed to start at the head), guts, sometimes just less rats than previously. I guarantee, once you have smelt dead, half eaten rat, it stays with you for life.
(grumpypolecat, Mon 20 Jan 2014, 19:57, 2 replies)

My daughter's ex was a bit unhinged. He came round once a bit drunk, ranting about fuck knows what.
Next thing we know there's a weird smell in the house, getting worse over the following weeks. Upon further investigation we found the following:

• He'd bitch-punched a goat to death in our basement and hung its intestines like FUCKING BUNTING.
• He'd shit in our boiler 384 times.
• He'd put cobras in all the radiators, hungry cobras with FUCKINGWHORECUNT sprayed on them with cobra blood.
• He'd squashed kebabs in every light fitting in the house. Every wall cavity filled with Kebabs, fuck he even shoved kebabs up our eldest daughter while she was asleep.
• He did lots of other things too which were very dangerous but didn't smell as much.



Needs more bullet points.
( drimble he'd been white, he'd been black, Mon 20 Jan 2014, 19:11, 16 replies)

Not so much a smell...
The dog we had when I was a kid had the usual ability to emit deleterious dogfarts but also came with a secondary fire mode; farts which you could only just smell (though what you could smell of them was horrendous) but which gave you a headache and slight nausea. I vaguely remember them giving me a migraine on more than one occasion.
We never worked out what he was eating that caused this and, for bonus points, he almost always farted silently so the only warning we got was when he got up and left the room unexpectedly.
(squigbobble existed, Mon 20 Jan 2014, 17:50, 7 replies)

A friend of mine fires lasers into peoples eyes and claims it helpsthem see better
"why don't you get lasik, Teebie"
- "because I don't want to smell my eyeballs burning"
"it's not burning, it's ablation"
[pause]
- "ablation means burning, doesn't it"
"yes it does"
(teebie jeebie, Mon 20 Jan 2014, 16:07, 3 replies)

Had a wisdom tooth removed a couple of years ago
I was prepared for the anaesthetic, the noise of the drill and the discomfort.

I wasn't prepared for the smell of burning tooth as the dentist drilled into it. Gah.
(Reverend Fister "a disciplined fuckwit", Mon 20 Jan 2014, 16:01, Reply)

Another fatty
Golddust's post reminds me of this..

Boarded a crammed train a few years back and the only spare seat was next to a blubbery monstrosity who'd also just got on.

I lasted about two minutes. Despite the fact that he was spilling across the seat like melting wax, he smelt rancid, it was eye-wateringly bad. I've never smelt a fat person like it before or since. I was gagging at the stench and wasn't the only one - he managed to clear a large section of the carriage.
(Deskbound You insignificant speck of dust, Mon 20 Jan 2014, 15:45, Reply)