My hand would probably be worse than theirs, so sure; no problem.  

I have a real simple way of gauging the strength of my gas... If the wife sleeps on the couch.






 

"I am woman, smell my gut
In odors much like old King Tut..."

When you turn 50 you'll know.

"Never trust a fart."

You weren't around for Ryan's Steak House. THAT was epic!

I'm well past 50 man...do tell.  

Is this a side effect of colonoscopies?  If so, I have 20 years to wait during which time I hope they develop a technology other than sending a handycam up your hiney hole.  Otherwise, I'll mentally prepare for sharts.

It's because the FSSV gets old like everything else.  At least it doesn't hurt.

When I was about 14 I was in a nice department store with my aunt and uncle.  My aunt took off doing whatever it is that women do in department stores and my uncle and I were walking around killing time.  We see a couple of cute teenage girls looking at clothes a little ways off.  So, my uncle immediately cuts the biggest fart you've ever heard and immediately ducks down behind the clothes rack...leaving me standing there looking like a deer in the headlights as those two girls looked at me like I was the most disgusting person in the entire world.

Uncles are eeeeevil. Ask my nieces & nephews!

I haven't laughed this hard in years.  Thank you.  Tears in my eyes, doubled over laughter. Took me 5 mins to finish the story from random bouts of laughter.


 

Years ago my buddy and his girlfriend were going out on a date to a drive in movie and they fixed me up with this girl who was smoking hot.  Anyway my buddy and his date were up in the front seat and me and this chick were in the back seat of this coupe.  So halfway through the movie I feel like I gotta fart.  Not wanting to fart in the car I tried my best to suppress it.  Like I said, I tried my best to squeeze this one down but unfortunately the fact that I was squeezing it so hard only made it that much louder when I failed in my effort.  Almost blew the fucking doors off it was so loud.  Anyway, luckily for all of us the car was equipped with power windows, which were moving down almost instantly with my buddy up in the front seat cracking up.  To this day, it's still the most embarrassed I've ever been, and it was the last time I ever went out with this chick.  Interestingly enough I ran into my "date" about 2 years ago at a party and mind you this was 30 years after our date........we all had plenty of cocktails, she was pretty loaded and I brought up it up again and she laughed her ass off remembering, we talked the rest of the night and lol......made her breakfast in the morning.

I have a couple...

The summer I was 11, I decided that I didn't want to go to church any more. I had much more interesting things I could be doing, in my carefully considered opinion. Unfortunately, my carefully considered opinion didn't mean a thing to Mom.  I was going to church, and that was that.

I needed a plan. Whining to get my way was out, Mom had a short way with whiners. You'd barely get started with your whine before she had a grip on your ear and was reaching for the willow switch...no, I needed something, some way to convince her that taking me to church just wasn't worth the bother. Or embarrassment...hmm, maybe a possibility there. Then The Plan sprang into my twisted little mind...

The next Saturday I rushed through my chores as fast as I could because I needed to ride my bike to town to pick up the vital ingredient to my plan, a 24 oz. can of pork n' beans. After I bought it, I went outside and thought about it for a minute,then went back inside and bought a nice big white onion. Just in case the beans needed some help, you know.

Saturday at dinner I kinda picked at my food a little, trying to act like I wasn't feeling very good. Mom immediately knew something was up, but she thought I was trying to get out of going to church...really I just needed the room to eat that entire can of beans later. Which I did, about an hour after dinner, with the whole onion chopped up raw into the beans and gobbled down with my trusty Scout knife with the fork and spoon on it. Was kinda hard to get to sleep that night, but I eventually did...

...and woke up in the morning with second thoughts, realizing that I was gonna have to take some punishment for what I planned, but then a preliminary rumble from below let me know that it was too late to back out now, and that I might as well go for broke.

When we filed in and sat down on the pews, I made sure to sit as far from my mother as I could get, with my two younger sisters between us. By good fortune, a large elderly gent was on my other side, normally an object of the deepest horror but now perfect for my plan. We had barely gotten seated when the first  little squeaker escaped, no one heard me but they all noticed the rich sulphurous aroma...I noticed some accusatory glances going around but none directed at me, perfect.

Fifteen minutes into the service, the old guy next to me is asleep already...I cut a short sharp one, with a nice resonating BLAT against the hardwood pews. I immediately looked sharply over to the gent next to me, and so did everyone else...he was oblivious. His wife gave him an ineffective elbow, then subsided. The smell was noticeable, but my digestive system was still young and healthy and would not develop its full capacity for odoriferous nastiness for some years yet

Waited a few more minutes for the pressure to build, then let off a longer blast from the trumpet. with a rising note at the end. Again pulled the indignant act at the guy next to me, and most people fall for it, but I feel Mom eye-lasers tracking across the left side of my face now, and I don't dare look at her. Some titters go around, but quickly die out.

Wait another ten minutes or so, (is this boring sermon EVER going to end?) and let out an SBD, and like always with an SBD, it was rank...this time, one of my sisters caught on and gave me this wide-eyed WTF look, I gave her an evil little smile and she just about exploded from trying to restrain her giggles. Mom is really suspicious now, but I'm not in arms reach so I'm safe for the moment.

The sermon is winding down, the moment I've been waiting for approaches, the pressure is building fast...

The minister says bows his head and says "let us pray"...

"Dear Lord"...BLATT...BLAAATTT...BLATBLATBLAT...BBBLLLAAAAT!

By now, the whole congregation is red faced and struggling to keep from laughing, at least the men were...I dunno what the women thought, that's a skill I've never managed to acquire. My mother has a death grip on the back of my neck, but that's not the end she should have holding, because I wasn't out of ammo yet...

The minister glares around sternly, then begins again..."Dear Lord"...and I let it all go in one mighty blast...BBBBLLLLAAAAATTTT!...shocked dead silence for three seconds and then a final FFWWEEEBLAT! broke the spell and absolute chaos ensued, the men all roaring helplessly with laughter and the women...well, I think they wanted me dead, judging by the glares and turned backs and the cackles of indignant little old ladies. The minister has given up, his arms folded across his chest as he glared at me.

My Mom by now is incandescent with rage and humiliation, shifts her grip to my left ear and starts dragging me outside, muttering incomplete and incoherent threats all the while...and by dragging, I'm not exaggerating. I doubt my feet touched the floor more than three times before I was outside...Mom was winding up to really blast me good when I asked her "what about K and M (my sisters)...Mom looks around wildly...she was so furious she forgot all about them. She rushed back into the church, gathered up my still helplessly giggling sisters, and was followed out the door by the minister, who told her something...I never found out exactly what, but the effect was all I desired, I never had to set foot in there again.

Mom never said a word on the way back to the farm, I knew better, and my sisters...well, they were primed to explode into giggles at the least provocation. They managed to hold out until they got out of the car, then they were off...they later told me they both wet themselves laughing.

As for the after-effects...Mom wore out both arms working me over with the willow switch, which was bad but I'd been through it before. Then she grounded me, when I asked her how long, she said "I'll let you know"...I became the hero of all the boys at school, but strangely enough I only got dates with girls who were new to town.




On my 50th birthday my Mom called and the first thing she said was "you're still grounded"...sigh.


Later on another story, all this typing makes my arthritis get all enthusiastic and happy to reacquaint itself with me.

When I was a kid (mid 1970's), my Great Grandmother was still around. She lived in a small single wide trailer. About once per year, she'd have a little get-together and that little 12 x 48 trailer would be packed. Naturally, she would do it July or August when it was 100 degrees. Her little window unit wouldn't keep up, so she'd open a window and turn on a fan.

My dad had difficulty forming his morning dump away from home. We spent the night at my grandmothers so we could get to my great gm's place early. Well, I knew that dad didn't get his dump in that morning and he was chugging black coffee and chain smoking Pall Mall's all day. At the lunch table I caught a whiff of the tell-tale rotten egg/smoke/coffee aroma as dad had slipped a quiet one. I looked at my sister and we both started laughing so hard we were crying. My mom knew what was up and shot us the evil eye. My dad just sat there with his Pall Mall in the corner of his mouth with an ash on it the length of the cigarette, the smoke was going in a straight line into his left eye making it red and angry. As the aroma became stronger over the next few minutes, my mom finally said something to my dad under her breath. He replied, "we really need to go." She just ignored him and kept talking to relatives. Dad raised one eyebrow and grinned. My sister and I knew what was about to happen so we were almost hyperventilating at this point.

Over the next couple of minutes the toots, brrrrp, pshews, braaapsssss and other noises grew to an ever-increasing volume and the stench grew worse. I smelled fried catfish at one point and recalled that we had eaten that two days before. My mom started talking louder and louder to try to cover up the sounds, but that wasn't working. People started coughing, sniffing and clearing their throats while my dad just sat there grinning with his angry red smokey eye.

Dad was a big man, so when he finally stood up, it startled everyone. He quietly said, "excuse me for a moment". Mom stood up and said, "NO". Dad grinned again and focused the now giant red smokey eye on mom and turned toward the restroom door that was located in the kitchen right next to the dinner table. He walked to the door as silence fell on the room.

.....I have to stop there because this will become a poop thread.

I was dating the girl and the writing was on the wall on the relationship.  I figured might as well have fun and enjoy the beginning of going down in flames.  I had a ripe one ready to go and said to her " I have a game,  It is called spit on the ceiling, I will go first."  Made that hacking sound like I had a good load of lung butter, she of course pulled the covers over her head, I let it rip.  She stayed under the covers but you could hear her gasping, coughing and swearing.  She thought I did it to get her out of the covers for the spit on the ceiling game.   She went home after that even though she was planning on spending the night.  

laughing so hard, tears rolling down my face. maybe the funniest post ever.

About a year ago, I was just getting out of an early morning meeting at work. Once I returned to the safety of my office, I eased up on one cheek, and squeaked out what I had *thought* was only a fart. It was indeed a third degree shart. I jumped up, and took the only path to the bathroom - past all of my coworkers milling around after the aforementioned meeting. When I hit the shitter, I confirmed my fears. It was straight liquid. An obvious failed attempt at a dry fart.
I left the office, and jumped in the car to go shower and quickly change  clothes to return to work. When I arrived home, I remembered that I was in between houses, heavily involved in the moving process. What I failed to do, was leave any of my clothes behind. So off it came, and I threw everything into the washer, and jumped in the shower. 45 minutes later, my boss called, and demanded an explanation for my leaving early. So...I told him. He laughed, and laughed, and, likely is still laughing at my incident.
I learned two valuable lessons that day: Never trust a fart, and make sure you have a change of clothes!

Years ago a friend of mine and I were on our way to a martial arts tournament out towards the coast. We decided to stop at a K-Mart that had one of those cafe's in it. We ate our burgers and decided to go to the restroom at the back of the store to drain the lizards before the tournament. We get back there and, in the stall closest to the johns, is a guy dropping a deuce. We start to piss and the guy in the stall lets out a very loud, uncontrolled, and undignified bellow. We just look over at each other  like WTF. Then the fireworks.. All I can really say is WOW, he has to be dying of ebola. I had visions in my head of blood and shit spraying everywhere. By now we are laughing uncontrollably. Another guy goes to walk in the restroom and sees my friend and I standing at the johns looking at each other shaking with our mouths open (as we are unable to breathe from laughing so hard) and runs out. I guess we swallowed to much air laughing because my friend lets out a fart that literally shook the walls. The man in the stall dying of Oregon trail death even startles. We catch our breath finish the piss we started like 5 min. ago and zip up and zip out. We get to the tournament and the Grand Master of the Association is there, from Korea. The person on the microphone announces that his wife had just died and the mood was very somber. Sad music begins to play on the speakers and a very small and old Grand-Master starts to ascend the stairs to the stage. As he reaches the half-way point, the air I swallowed while laughing at pain-diarrhea man, unexpectedly finds its way to daylight. The walls of the gymnasium tremble. The Grand-Master stops in his tracks turns his head in my direction smiles and chuckles. After the tournament I had the chance to shake his hand and he smiled and said "Indomitable spirit!"

Several years ago my wife and I and another couple went to an outdoor drama in the mountains of NC.  We had already had a beer or 12 and were sitting in the ampitheater enjoying the show.  During one of the scenes where the indians were whooping and gunshots going off someone a couple of rows down decided that would be a good time to let one rip....Only problem was he let it rip about the time the action went totally silent so everyone heard it.  My friend then hollared out WHO FIRED THAT SHOT????

Me too!  I was imagining that it was the kid from "A Christmas Story" doing it, and the voice was the narrator telling the story.  

First time to Vegas the wife and I went with another couple. A day or two in we are at the Bellagio fountains and our buddy gets asked to take a picture of a group of asians doing the sight seeing thing. We leave them there and walk up the sidewalk another twenty feet or so. A minute later he ambles up all quiet like, looks at us straight in the eyes, and states all serious like that "we need to go." We were still watching the fountains and talking so we kind of ignore it but a few seconds later he again repeats, "we really need to get going." It was the kind of tone where you think there might be a serious problem, like a fight or something that you need to honestly evac the area from. We kind of look at him odd, and then the exposed sewer line smell hits us. I look over his shoulder and see that the asians have scattered in every direction like godzilla was at their heels. We were out doors in the open and he still is able to lay a cloud that could have shaded the sun.

It was like three years ago and I woke up in the middle of the night laughing about it just this last weekend.

well told.....my sides hurt and there are tears in my eyes from laughing so hard

ok I got to share this. my wife was raised a proper woman by her overly uptight mother. a fart was close to a sin in her house growing up. needless to say I completely polluted her. after a large dinner of pork and kraut she lets loose a Poot . I said let me know when you got one in the chamber and I will light it. thinking she would just laugh it off and tell me I am foul. instead a few minutes later she said get ready. thinking she was bluffing I lit the lighter and she pulled the trigger werner Von braun would have been proud as a foot and a half flame shot out the back lighting up the entire room of our tiny apartment. lucky we didn't get hurt of burn down the apartment and I just lost some hair on my arm.guess you had to be there.

not everyone will get that reference....but I do. with that in mind, if said event was truly on that scale, wow...just wow!

You have a way with words sir. I just peed myself reading that. Thank you.

i guy I used to four wheel with had a big crush on a girl that was out of his league..He was always trying to impress her.  He had a TV on a generator sitting on the back of his truck tailgate.  We were all crouched down watching the playback of some of our muddy endeavors.  He tried to turn the TV so she could see it, he went to lift it and farted right in her face.  His butt was less than a foot from her face.   She said "oh my god bill"

I couldn't believe how huge the plume was. it had thrust for a split second. I am relieved she didn't get hurt. with the exception of a few scortched hairs on the back side. and the way the room lit up was crazy. we both laugh our ass of when it gets brought up.

Hard to read I was trying to suppress laughing in bed while my wife sleeps next to me!

Funny because I had many similar church experiences to the point where sitting in church was synonymous with farting.

About 3 three years ago, I was working retail and was on my way back to work from lunch.  As I'm pulling into the parking lot, I feel the need to relieve some pressure, so I let one rip.  Immediately, I knew something was wrong.  I had just sharted....bad.  I went into panic mode.  My District Manger was at the store for a visit and store manager had only been at there for about a week so calling them and telling them I wasn't coming back in didn't seem like a smart option.  

Then it hit me, there was a Ross across the street.  I could go get a new pair of pants and be good to go!  So I walked into Ross with a huge shit stain on the back of my pants, side stepping people so they can't see that I've crapped myself and make it over to the dress pants.  I found a pair that were the perfect size and waddled up to the cashier to pay and then ran to the bathroom to change.

I made it to back work on time and nobody even noticed that I was wearing different pants

I saw my brother do that once (story has been related on an earlier page). The flame travelled INSIDE him, up into his rectum, and he... ahem... experienced difficulties for another day.

I almost hurt mysef laughing

now that's what you call bragging rights

Dispatcher: "You've cleared a WHAT scene?"

Was flying with a buddy from Albuquerque back home to Chicago, with a layover in Kansas City.  We'd spent the last 3 days in Albuquerque boozing it up and eating the local food, which was quite a bit spicier than I was used to.  I have no idea what I ate the night before that decided to go to war with my intestines.  While going through the security line in Albuquerque I let the first silent one rip.  It was awful.  I was fairly certain that there was a smoke trail coming out of my ass due to the fact it felt like I had lava in my guts.  I made sure to leave a nice cloud where you pick up your carry-on after it gets x-rayed.  At this point, my buddy has no idea it's me.  We were flying southwest, back when you had to check in and get those stupid boarding cards.  I dropped some more ass at the counter as I was getting my card, and walked away.  My buddy then goes to get his card and the lady at the counter was glaring at him as the smell finally hit her too.  I stunk up the entire airport waiting on our flight.

My friend pleaded with me to take a shit before we boarded.  No fucking way.  The beers I was drinking on the plane, combined with the pressurized cabin made them even worse.  Ill bet I farted at least every other minute for the entire flight to KC.  Every one smelled horrible, but different than the last one.  My buddy actually dry heaved at one point due to the smell.  The whole plane was looking around for who was doing it.

So we finally land in KC and I decided to crop dust the jetway.  I really didn't have to fart at the time so I pushed one out...a little too hard apparently as it felt like someone poured lava down the crack of my ass.  So I make a bee line to the bathroom to inspect the damage.  Underwear are toast, and so are the jeans judging by the huge shit stain in the back that runs down a leg.  Fuck me.  No clothes in my carry-on.  I start blowing up my buddy's phone after destroying the toilet.  He finally comes in to see what I needed.  I told him to find me a pair of shorts or something in the airport.  He cracks up and leaves.  He shows up about an hour later.  I now only have about 15 minutes to catch the flight, and I haven't even checked in yet!  He hands me a pair of purple shorts, with pink trim, and the KC royals logo on them.  Size.... Women's large.  Now, I'm 6'5", 240, and putting these things on was like shoving 10 pounds of shit in a 5 pound sack.  I can hear him giggling saying to hurry up or I'll miss our flight.  So I get them on, with no underwear, and take a look in the mirror on the way out.  I looked like the gay guy Lamar from Revenge of the Nerds.  My ass cheeks were hanging out of the bottom, and it looked like I was smuggling plums from the front.  I briefly looked around to see if I could find another clothing store but no luck.  Turns out he got them from another terminal (I later found out they had men's sizes too).  So I check in, and the lady just flat out starts cracking up at the shorts.  I get in the plane and sit next to my buddy who is still cracking up.....and rip another rotten fart.  I farted that whole plane ride too just to make him suffer

We still laugh about that one when we get together.

Took a while, but I finally read through the whole thing.  Can't hardly breathe.

So, I bought 1 Lb of the Japenese peas with wasabi on them.



The dog has left the room. I might have ate 1/3rd of the bag. Oh please make it stop!

Circa 1998 I ripped a COLOSSAL FART in the sporting goods section of a Walmart. An old man from the other isle next to where My ASS had just exploded walked over and suspiciously asked me if I had heard a "clapping sound." I straight faced him and told him that I heard something but I wasn't sure which way it came from. He cocked his neck back, took a big whiff, got really serious and said "Somethings Happened Here!" "I'm not sure what it is but Something Has Happened!"

This occurrence can be explained by the phenomenon commonly referred to as "Rain Poop." Anytime water is flowing in the vicinity of an already odorous fart, the ions in the air that result from the flowing water, in this case the Bellagio fountains, bond with and serve as an amplifier of the sulfer laden fart, thus creating the horrific odor of "Rain Poop."

when my grandfather was 18 he and a friend got drunk for their first times at his parents house while they were gone for the weekend.....did all the responsible things, like hiding the car keys so they wouldn't drive....
well, long story short, my grandfather had to make a 3 am phone call to his buddies house and explain to his dad exactly why he needed to come to the hospital to pick up his drunk son....
they started lighting farts on fire, and his buddy burned his asshole pretty bad....which was compounded by their drunk asses not being able to find the car keys they hid, so it took them a while to get the hospital....

Had a good one this week. My coworker has a knack for letting one slip every now and then and the offending odor generally wafts across my nose because, well, he's an asshole. Lately, I've been having a few stomach problems (might be an ulcer, waiting on the doc's confirmation) and, to remedy said problems, I'm loading up on Nexium and antacids as necessary. An unfortunate byproduct of antacids, at least with me, is bubbleguts for the appetizer and SBD's for the main course. Anyway, we're sitting in the control room at one of our sites, and we're working, laughing, and joking in our typical manner when I get a quiet, but hot, gurgle. The gurgle traveled it's way down pipes and proceeded to ferment in my colon for about 10 minutes.

Now, if you recall your chemistry lessons, you'll remember the equation p*V = n*r*T where p = pressure, V = volume of the container, n and r are constants (IIRC) and T = temperature. Note that, if you increase the pressure in a given volume and solve for T, T increases. I have scientific proof of this, as the temperature in my bowels increased to somewhere south of a Louisiana swamp. Eventually, the pressure built to the point to where the pressure relief valve had to let go...the warmth - that's all I remember is the warmth...on the chair...that poor chair. It was bought only weeks ago, fresh from the factory...it had no idea what this sudden warmth was. There was no noise, only warmth. My poor coworker was sitting beside me when I hear "dude, did you...you DID, you nasty fucker!"

It was all I could do to keep my composure and hope that no one else walked in the room before the ventilation system could go through a couple more air changes...

Ahahahahahaha

George Carlin: fart jokes!

I was at the mall trying to take advantage of the tax free day on clothing.

I felt a slight knocking sensation at the back door, but that steadily picked up to a pounding. It stopped for a moment, but I soon realized a breaching charge of gas was being set on the interior wall of my rear end. I did not want to risk letting this gas buildup loose with so many people near me.

I quickly ran into the nearest bathroom and got into the nearest stall. Within a few moments, I heard the faint singing of a Hispanic man in the stall next to me. It sounded like a Spanish, spiritual show tune of some sort.

As soon as I could sit down, the carefree singing was instantly cut short by the hydrogen bombs that I unleashed torrent upon torrent of.. The smell was a noxious aroma that you would only expect to be encountered with  while clearing rotten oysters out of a clogged septic tank.

I felt bad for the man trapped in the stall next to me. He now remained silent. I can only assume by that point he was grasping his prayer beads in absolute horror as he struggled to breathe.

Eventually the Tempest of gas that was reeking havoc on my internals subsided and I left.

On the way out I held the door to the bathroom open for a man and his small child. Upon entering the restroom, the child immediatley started to cry. The father picked up his son and swiftly turned around with a sour look on his face.

Once I was in a hospital elevator the morning after a hog roast. I had eaten probably three pounds of pork and three marrinated steaks, and washed it all down with gallons fo beer. About half way to the top floor my stomach rolled and I let loose a solid thirty second huge quiet fart. It was a miracle that I didnt drop a duece in my pants. There were three old timers and a pretty nurse in the elevator with me. As it started to rise and spread, everyone could smell crap and meat and rotten eggs and my shame. By the time the door opened people were pushing greiving family members out of the way to get to the door.