I work in a microbiology lab...
We test anything and everything that could harbour bacterial infection in humans, ranging from simple cotton-bud swabs of skin, to amputated body parts, as well as anything that can be removed from the body, by natural or mechanical means! Some organisms need help growing to a detectable level, so we put the sample into an airtight jar of nutrient liquid for a period of time (between two days and a fortnight), before transferring it to an agar plate. After two weeks, these can whiff a bit.
By far the worst was the rounded lid from a can of deodorant. This came to the lab having been surgically removed from the nether regions of a lady after it had dislodged from the can whilst being used for a purpose for which it was not designed. It must have been lost for some time, as the black plastic had actually discoloured, now a shade of light brown.
The lid was so full of anaerobic bacteria that just five days into its two week incubation period, it produced enough gas to blow the lid clean off the jar. The smell was atrocious, a combination of vindaloo based diarrhoea, swamp gas, rotting fish and dead tramp, causing one of my colleagues to run out and be violently sick. What state the patient's clunge was in, I dread to think.
That held the record for the worst smelling sample ever processed for 12 years. It was only beaten last year when we received a necrotic anus.
(Captain Coffee Break, Thu 23 Jan 2014, 13:59, Reply)

The double death of Kebabs
Some winters ago I went out on New Years eve and met up with friends. As the evening went on we ended up at his folks place all totally hammered. Plastered tho we were, we couldn't ignore the many Alsation pups wandering around the house. A year old and by now frisky, inquisitive etc. Now in the early hours I was welcomed to stay so stretched out in a comfy chair along with the other drunken folk scattered about the room. About 5 in the morning I was woken by a commotion from the fellow stretched out on a sofa. He coughed, he wheezed, he barfed - and those amusing pups lapped it all up. The faint reek of vomitus was swiftly dispersed by the speedy cleaning of those pups, oh yes. Still in disbelief at what I had seen and no longer able to prove anything I kept quiet. 10am and the household groaned into life, the sofa hog was gone and a distinct odour of doggy-do permeated the house. I overheard the Parents heated conversation,
"I cant understand it - its everywhere!"
"I know, they weren't fed anything last night"
(luckylife , 0 guests and 3 bots are online, Thu 23 Jan 2014, 13:25, 1 reply)

I once managed to fart the tune of 'We buy any car dot com'
In front of my mother-in-law.
( Fucking hell Jeff I am not a robot, Thu 23 Jan 2014, 13:21, 3 replies)

Sulphur tablets
As a sweet-loving 8 year old, my Dad took me into a pharmacy where I spied a packet of what, in my mind, was another delicacy that I'd never tried. I convinced him to buy these things called "Fruit-Flavoured Sulphur Tablets". The warning of "Consume no more than 3 tablets in any 24 hour period" meant nothing to me. I'm not even entirely sure I knew what the word "consume" meant!

30 minutes and about 36 tablets later I had finished the bag. Not the nicest sweets I'd ever had, but they were slightly sugary, so I was happy.

1 day later, cue an 8-year old child sitting on the toilet desperately trying to "go". But with anything that emerged from his backside resembling the smell emitted from those little glass stinkbombs you could buy, only worse. Much, much worse. The foul stench would cause me to vomit and even a towel wrapped tightly round my head did nothing to lessen the odour.

The next day, I learnt that I could have fun in class and get the place evacuated pretty quickly just by farting. I had never had this level of power before and I probably never will ever again.
(Drodbar, Thu 23 Jan 2014, 12:32, 1 reply)

Fart Cannon
If i'm sat on my sofa and have my laptop positioned correctly every time I fart the laptop fan will suck up may fart and project it straight at the wife!

Try it with your own laptops and wives (not mine because she is getting annoyed with me doing this which only makes it much more funnier!)
(Lip Up Fatty Fatty Reggae still loves BBQ food on, Thu 23 Jan 2014, 11:22, 7 replies)

Lad Rover Main Dealer
I took my Land Rover Defender to the main dealer to have the front diff seal replaced as it had started leaking quite badly.

They reckoned they would have it done in an hour so I decided to wait. It was a posh showroom all potted plants and stainless steel. Lots of pretty receptionists not doing a lot apart from brightening the place up!

I was shown to the waiting area (posh leather & wicker seats) and offered a cup of tea.

After 15 minutes I felt a slight rumble, which was the inevitable result of a spicy peppered steak last night and antibiotics (I was recovering from a chest infection) and let out a small but concentrated SBD fart.

The waiting area is at least 20 feet from the receptionists and after a bit of discrete wafting with a newspaper I thought I had got away with it....

Then one of the receptionists made her way over and plonked an air freshener on the display cabinet opposite me! Oooops Bugger!!
( Vambo, Thu 23 Jan 2014, 11:06, 2 replies)

Breeding Maggots
Old mate of mine, a keen fisherman, used to breed his own maggots. This involved putting a sheep's head in a dustbin, making lots of little holes in the lid and leaving at the bottom of his garden for a good few weeks.

We had many a barbecue at his house, and the conclusion of most of these cider fuelled shindigs was a game of seeing who could lift the lid and hold their head over the bin for the longest without puking.

Three week old rotting, liquified sheep's head does tend to honk somewhat.
( insignificantsnivellinglittleturd I Like Peas, Thu 23 Jan 2014, 10:19, Reply)

ever tried surströmming?

( The Doveston haunted by the memory of his own amnesia, Thu 23 Jan 2014, 10:00, 10 replies)

Lost.

( 2 Can Chunder Word to your mums, I came to prod bums, Thu 23 Jan 2014, 9:54, Reply)

I love the smell of last in the morning.
Smells like... failure
( monster munch person, man, woman... camera... TV?, Thu 23 Jan 2014, 9:00, Reply)

Last.

( Amorous Badger NAKED BEA ARTHUR PHOTOS 4U, Thu 23 Jan 2014, 8:07, 1 reply)

pinta

( drimble he'd been white, he'd been black, Wed 22 Jan 2014, 23:06, Reply)

Speaking of septic tanks
Many years ago, the Achtungmeinfield family lived out in the sticks, and the house we lived in came equipped with a septic tank. Twas a very old septic tank, with a brick lining. For the first year, we had to have the bloody thing emptied about once every 6 months, for reasons my father could not understand. Yes, he had three vigorous sons who ate him out of house and home, but still. That's an awful lot of shite. Now we lived about halfway down a hill, and there were about a dozen houses uphill of our gaff. And they never seemed to have the problem we did.

Right until we happened to dig up, divine the purpose of, and subsequently block with concrete, the seemingly communal pipe that linked the overflow from all their septic tanks to ours. Before long, if the wind was right, the stink of badly backed-up septic tanks was all too apparent, and some of our neighbours had started to take on increasingly haggard expressions. Word was there had been some unpleasantness, stuff like flushing the bog causing all manner of effluent to boil up out of the kitchen sink plug. As concerned neighbours, we were only too delighted to give them the number of a nice firm who would empty out their bastarding motherfucking freeloading septic tanks for them.

As for our tank - one day, Dad's tame builder and his oppo were peering into the manhole cover over the old tank, poking inside with a long pole to check the integrity of the brickwork. Much sucking of teeth, "Looks like you'll need a new one, amateur put this one in, happy to quote you, gonna be a few quid mind, etc". Right then, the wall they'd been prodding collapsed, causing a wave of the most heinous pong to well up out of the manhole cover, right into their faces. I was standing a good way off, so it might have been the distance, but it didn't half look like the builder puked up not only the contents of his stomach, but his entire gastric tract.
(Achtungmeinfield, Wed 22 Jan 2014, 21:44, 1 reply)

When I was 5, my Mum and Dad bought a brand spanking new Citroen GS.
Very shortly after we bought it, we drove from London to Aberdeen in it, for a 2 week holiday with relatives. This is a journey of about 12 hours.

Two of my Mothers cousins were fishermen, and ran a trawler. At the end of the holiday, they gave us a big case of fish, in ice.

This went in the boot of the brand new car. For 12 hours.

By the time we got to London, the car had started to smell. By a week later, the fishy water that had slopped all over the boot had reached a crescendo of stink.

The boot carpet was removed and replaced, but for the whole time they kept the car, maybe 4 years, as soon as the temperature got above about 10 degrees, the faint waft of fish would appear in the car.

I imagine when they sold it, they chose a cold day.
(username failed moderation, Wed 22 Jan 2014, 17:37, 3 replies)

Fishy
Back in the 80's/90's there used to be a regular couple of skip lorries going through Lincoln full of rotten fish (presumably from Grimsby or somewhere) which used to smell like the Devils ringpiece. In the Summer it was even worse.

One year the smell followed us home, following the usual questions to the female members of the family regarding their hygiene levels it was discovered that a large portion of fish had vacated one of the skips and located itself in my dads wheel arch dripping guts everywhere and leaving a lovely trail of bits along the driveway and into the garage.

Just typing this is giving me ptsd - Putrid Trout Stench Disorder.
(the_icks has the sweet essence of giraffe, Wed 22 Jan 2014, 17:11, Reply)

There's a section of the A30, a hill nearby a place called Fraddon
Apparently the many people in the rural South West who aren't connected to the sewerage mains still have to make use of your old-skool septic tanks, which have to be emptied every so often by tanker truck (some humourously entitled 'The Turdis' after the nature of their contents) and disposed of.

Now, mains sewage gets treated, the water recycled, the remnants sterilised (supposedly) and as is the case in Cornwall, pumped out to sea.

However the contents of the cess-tanks undergo a different method of disposal, and this section of the A30 is near to a site that is supposed to sequester this stinky effluent in bore holes underground. You'd think this would render it pretty distant and unable to offend the nose in that respect.

No. I make that journed quite frequently as I ahve for 13 years now worked up in the Midlands but go and visit my daughter where she lives in Cornwall, using that very section of the road.

It is the ONLY time that I ever have to remember about a mile away to switch the aircon/heater/blower in the car to Recirculate to avoid the system sucking in lungfuls of stinking, foetid sulphurous gas that emanates from this site. Naturally in the summer it is worse.

To capitalise on this offense to the nostrils, one year the owner decided, on the sly, to just spread the stuff on adjacent fields a la muckspreading. THAT year the stench was truly awful.

Anyone thinking of taking a cheap holiday cottage in the South West over the summer, check that it's not within smelling distance of here...

https://maps.google.co.uk/maps?q=a30&ie=UTF-8&hq=&hnear=0x486d87a5bf4d7fb3:0xc010bd0ef1c763e8,A30,+Okehampton+EX20&gl=uk&ei=guXfUsHUO7GS7AbT1IG4BA&ved=0CLABELYD
( Rotating Wobbly Hat That's not a banana. THIS is a banana., Wed 22 Jan 2014, 16:02, 2 replies)

Cup of tea, babe?
I have been in a relationship with my partner for so long that cup-caking and dutch-ovening have become stale. Having thought of a new way to 'share' the smell of my flatulence with her I offered to make us a cup of tea, whereupon I took her favourite mug out of the cupboard and proceeded to unload the gaseous contents of my arse into it. I placed a hand over the top of the mug to secure the precious cargo inside. It was warm to the touch. I walked through to the living-room with her favourite mug in hand and a look of grave concern.

"Look at your mug"

I presented the mug to her face. She looked at it and after a few seconds took, what could only be described as, a very committed sniff and promptly gagged.

She wouldn't talk to me for ages afterwards, even after she stopped boking.

The strong aroma of sabotage still lingers in that mug to this very day.

tl;dr - I farted in a cup.
(ukraine space monkey, Wed 22 Jan 2014, 15:55, 5 replies)

i also heard recently of a terrifyingly posh wedding where the reception was in daddy's garden
it was beautifully done, and even the temporary toilets weren't too heinous.

until the starters were served. and it was asparagus.

the rest of the afternoon was not too fragrant.

[asparagus doesn't have that effect on me. I was bemused by my friend going on about "asparagus wee" until I saw Austin powers and realised it's a real thing. apparently some people don't make the protein that makes it reek, and i'm one of them.

then I learned that there is another school of thought: we do make the protein... we just can't smell it. urgh!]
( rachelswipe with a fork, Wed 22 Jan 2014, 15:05, 6 replies)

the men in my family are all big man utd fans
one day my brother was at old Trafford with a monumental hangover. the beery kebab farts he was releasing on the way to the ground nearly choked him, and each one got a bit worse.

he carried on eking out his disgusting gut gas once at the ground. an outside, massive sports ground was no match for this smell. after a while, the woman in the seat in front of him smacked her bloke across the back of the head.

"you dirty bastard," she moaned. he disputed it vigorously. my brother sniggered and released another brown clown. a few minutes later, the innocent dude in front got another whack.

"I know it's you, you filthy cunt," his charming girlfriend hissed. this continued for a little bit, with my brother struggling not to piss himself as the couple got more and more angry with one another, and other people started complaining too. eventually the woman in front glared around at everyone else. at the top of her voice, she announced:

WELL. WHOEVER IT IS, THEY SMELL LIKE A FUCKING FARM.

I think this may be my brother's proudest moment.
( rachelswipe with a fork, Wed 22 Jan 2014, 14:51, 7 replies)

Leaving the room
I'm a gifted flatulist, my poor partner suffers on a daily basis from the stench I can create after most types of food. Luckily she wasn't around for the "gassing of the 4 rooms" as it's become known... by me.

Whilst living in Lancaster and after a particularly tasty kebab, I developed the usual kebab farts, although these were worse than ever. I sat watching television in the living room/kitchen of my flat and let out a couple of farts, before long the heady smell was too much for me and I had no choice but to leave the room. I shut the door tightly behind me and went into the bedroom to read a book. A matter of minutes later I had stunk that room out too, so shut another door behind me and sat in the hallway to read. The same problem soon arose as the smell emanating from my arse showed no signs of stopping, so I went into the bathroom, not to defecate but just to sit on the closed toilet while I continued reading.

Alas in the space of about 25 minutes I'd made such an awful smell in all 4 of the distinct rooms in my poxy little flat that I had nowhere to go. I opened the door to the living room/kitchen and it was still there, fresh as before. I picked up my keys and headed out of the house for a walk, my head hung in shame.

An hour later when I returned I realised I should probably have taken the time to open a window or two before I left. The transition from fresh air to stale farts was far worse than the initial shock of the smell.

Nowadays I've discovered febreze, if I could retro-fit a canister to my arse I would.
( JebediahSpringfield, Wed 22 Jan 2014, 14:37, Reply)

Penistone
As well as having penis in its name, it stinks of shit
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Wed 22 Jan 2014, 11:32, 2 replies)

Overheard on a train:
"The last time I was in Worthing was 1954. And it stank then, too."
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Wed 22 Jan 2014, 10:32, 3 replies)

Marmite.
Tastes just as bad as it smells.
(ParaSitius is an Optimistic Pessimist, Wed 22 Jan 2014, 9:22, 21 replies)

The freezer
Quite a while back, my girlfriend of the time was performing in a play in Edinburgh.
She rented a flat with the rest of the cast from someone who would move out for the festival and sublet their flat whilst on holiday.
I got up there about three weeks into their residency and set up happily walking round the city whilst they did thespian things.
After a few days in the flat I began to notice a smell. It was like a muffled scream, you knew it was a noxious smell but was being masked by something.
I decided to find the source of this odour and almost instantly tracked it down to the freezer.
Upon opening the white box I was assaulted with a smell like no other. As soon as I opened the lid I threw it shut an tried to physically jump out of the way of the stench.
My God! It was like nothing I had come across before.
Now that the lid had been opened the smell quickly found it's way around the entire flat, calling the occupants out of their rooms to ask what the shuddering fuck had happened.
We all stood around this innocent looking white appliance that was slowly releasing it's stinking cargo.
As the only bloke in the flat it was decided with no word uttered that it was my job to see to the problem.
I first had to open the freezer again and inspect the damage. A big breath was taken and held, the lid thrown open and I peered in. The freezer was half full with ready meals, chips, unidentified bags of goop, collapsed cardboard and water that made the most rancid bin juice look like Evian.
I let in a little gasp of air and almost projectile vomited into the stinking mess.
The next half hour was a contstant battle to keep my stomach from hurling it's content out in disgust.
As it was a chest freezer I had to lean further and further into the thing to pull out the contents and bag them up. Every time I bent over the freezer and stuck my face in I would get nearer and nearer to vomiting. Kind of like touching the cloth but from the other end.
Eventually I had got the solids out and was left with the swamp of murky water with floating chips, peas and scum in it.
This "water" had to be scooped out with cups, into saucepans then carried across the flat to be dumped in the toilet. When I had almost finished the task I lent far over the side of the freezer to try to get the last dregs, rested my stomach on the side, reached and knocked the air out of myself. I involuntarily inhaled to re inflate my lungs, pulling in a huge breath of stagnant fish fingers and chicken kievs. The breath quickly came out, followed by the morning's breakfast, which splashed into the final bits of freezer juice, which splashed back up into my face and mouth making me heave once more.
Oddly enough, the acid smell of vomit cut through the blunt stench of the freezer and made the final cleaning up (even with the added chunks) much easier. Either that or it could be that I'd lost all self respect, standing in a stinking flat, covered in the remnants of someone else's freezer and regurgitated fry up.
Soon after I found the reason for the freezer failure was one of the actresses unplugging it to put in their hair straighteners the day they got into the flat. I wish I could say that I got my revenge some how, but all I wanted to do was forget the experience.
( monkeyboyalpha jumping on the bandwagon since, Wed 22 Jan 2014, 9:21, 6 replies)

Widnes

( Zuowan, Wed 22 Jan 2014, 9:12, 4 replies)

last

(Sebastian Dried-on excreta bull goose loony, silverback shitposting alpha, Wed 22 Jan 2014, 8:49, 2 replies)

last

( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Wed 22 Jan 2014, 8:10, 2 replies)