The Fart of the Apocalypse

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
21

Oh yes, the post-colonoscopy “release”.

About 7 years ago, I had this done. Fasted, drank the nasty electrolyte, etc. By the way, those are the best drugs made avaialble to man, those that enable a mortal to watch on a TV screen while a short Asian doctor runs about 6 miles of tubing in the ole bunghole, and yet it’s the most fun you’ve ever had, and end up thanking the man when it’s done.

All done, and waiting in recovery, Bus Wife by my side. Waiting for what? Hm, neither of us know. So I stop the nurse, explain that I’m reasonably lucid and wondering when I can be let go.

As it turns out, she explains, since I’m empty before the procedure, and it tends to build up gas within me, they want to make sure I can “release the hounds” as it were before they let me go.

A unique look of fear combined with astonishment crosses the lovely features of the Bus Wife. I laugh. It’s the Vincent Price laugh, all nasty and scary.

What is that dear nurse? All I must do to secure my release is to fart?

At your service.

Bus Wife decides it best to clear the room, suddenly remembering she has to feed the parking meter or wash the car or something, while I begin to purge.

I am a vertitable symphony. “Camptown Ladies”, “Stairway to Heaven”, you name it, if it’s a song and can be farted, I was on it.

Several minutes later, the Bus Wife meekly appears at the door again. The nurses gratefully hand me over to her care and custody, and we are off on our merry way, homeward bound.

What a day.

22

I’m an older (38) man and I discover that I’ve begun letting loose in public all the time! Usually SBD’s, but sometimes when I’m walking over a rough stretch of terrain (i.e. the torn-up sidewalk) I’ll just let 'er go figuring the ‘noise’ can be attributed to feet shuffling on the sidewalk.

And yes, I find that pretty damn well amusing. :slight_smile:

23

One fine evening I was sitting on my couch, watching TV and drinking beer, my faithful dog sitting at my feet, when I felt the urge to purge. I cut a huge, roiling fart, and it was a nasty one. I can’t tell you how bad it was because my farts don’t stink, to me anyway. :smiley:

A few seconds later, my dog groans and gets up and walks to the next room and lays back down. Damn, it was so nasty, my dog had to leave the room!

I’m surprised to see that none of these wonderful tales of flatulence gone bad feature the dreaded “fart that wasn’t a fart” stories. After you’ve had one of those, you never quite rip them with the same carefree verve anymore.

24

So that explains the windy weather in Toronto today… :dubious:

25

Back in June I had a laparoscopic gastric bypass. One of the neat little tricks they do during the operation is inflate your abdomen with a whole lot of gas so they have room to work. The first night home after surgery, I had to sleep in a recliner because I couldn’t lay flat. 'Round about 0230, I woke to a bad pain in my lower gut, like I was severely constipated, even though I couldn’t be because my tract was clean. I started to get up to go to the john, and the first one let fly. Immediate relief, but it wasn’t the last. It was the beginning of a near-constant parade that lasted about 45 minutes that sent the cat slinking away in disgust. To this day, I’ve never topped the volume.

Post-op, I let fly much more frequently before, and not always deliberately. Sunday, in the frozen food aisle of the grocery store, I let fly with one unintentionally that was probably logged as a seismic event. Unfortunately, I wasn’t alone, either.

I don’t remember the last time one was so eeeeeeevilly awful that I was accused of chemical warfare, though.

26

Heh. You oughtta try a 6 hour car trip the day after a huge day of eating fatty foods and drinking.

For eight years now, I’ve been doing a Pre-Thanksgiving with friends. On the day of, my old roommate and I get up, go get breakfast at the local greasy spoon, shop, cook, eat, drink, eat, drink, eat, drink, drink, eat… We start the meal around 5 and end around 12. A good time is always had. HOWEVER, I do not recommend trying to drive anywhere the next day. Not only is the flatulence nasty enough to offend the flatulator, it also is a frequent occurence. It was just a bit too cold to leave the windows open, so the trip was <fffrrrpptt> <gag><bzzzzz>*, let the smell dissipate, <whew><bzzzzz>, repeat a couple of minutes later.

'Scuse me, I gotta go fabreeze my car seat.

  • <bzzzzz> is supposed to be the window…
27

Back in high school, we were returning from a basketball game when I felt the urge. Being female, and high school age, there was no possible way I was going to fart on that bus. There were boys around! I would be ragged about it for the rest of my life! So I spent the last 30 minutes of the trip in agony, mentally commanding my anus to stay closed.

We finally made it back to campus, and I got off the bus and started down the hill to the girls dormitory. Feeling reasonably certain that gas was not all I had to pass, I started running down the hill. Every time a foot hit the ground, I farted. I was jet-propelled down the hill.

Several weeks later, the school cafeteria fed us beans and franks before an away basketball game. One of the girls basketball team members was a championship farter - she had been known to clear an entire classroom without making a sound. We won that game because everytime she went up for a rebound she farted and cleared the court. I’m sure the team we were visiting had to fumigate the locker room after we left.

28

You know, now I can’t help but wonder:
(1) if you named your anus, and
(2) it’s name is “Sesame.”

29

When I posted about the guys I worked with competing, we were on an Aircraft Carrier in the shipyards.

I miss the Navy.

30

Here’s a sentence I never thought I say: now I’m really looking forward to having a colonoscopy. It’d be worth it just for that.

31

I’m lactose intolerant. This manifests itself in the form of sharp but short stomach pains, and leaky, horrific gas. Putrid gas. And I do mean “putrid”. I’m not just using the word as a generic modifier of my gas. It’s really putrid, like a corpse has rotted, become bloated with gasses, and was punctured by a sharp object.

The problem is, they’re just sort of leaky and small.

Conversely, if I eat beans, I tend to get massive bursts of air but without tremendous odor.

Now if I eat beans and dairy together (like chili with cheddar cheese on top) the farts get the body from the beans and the flavor from the dairy. This produces some really remarkable bombs.

Last time my wife went away for the weekend for work, she came home on Sunday evening. The first thing out of her mouth was “oh my god, have you been farting in here”. Not that remarkable, except for the fact that I couldn’t remember having farted since Saturday AND the downstairs of our house is about 720 square feet with 9 foot ceilings.

32

All creatures are capable of unleashing a Death Fart. Even the wee ones.

33

Sophomore year in High School…I was on the school’s tennis team and we were playing in a tournament against another HS. Some of us had to wait our turns to play our games since there were only 3 courts. So I sat on some concrete curbing (knees up and spread apart) with my opponent and another pair of singles watching the others play and waiting our turn. Then IT came forth from my arse…not particularly smelly, just like LOUD (motorcycle starting LOUD). Loud enough that the players from ALL three matches stopped and keeled over laughing. It lasted 10 seconds the first time and then about 8 the second and about 5 the third time. Don’t remember what I ate that day, but I was swallowing air for burp contests earlier that day…it might have had something to do with that.

All three of our players on the court looked towards us and immediately assumed it was the other teammate (kinda homely looking) sitting with us…They all screamed the kid’s last name “LACKEY”!!! I played it off on him too…what? I can’t act like a sophmore?

34

FWIW, I have never actually farted in my entire life. It’s always been the dog, the child, the little old lady, et cetera.

That’s what old people are for!!!

35

I understand.

However, if you were on the MARTA in Atlanta in October 2003, there are about 15 people (myself included) that wanna have a serious sit-down talk with you.

36

Yesterday I had some of the most horrible gas ever to pass out of my colon. These farts were soundless most of the time, but the smell was so disgusting that they smelled bad even to ME. Taking a dump did nothing to alleviate the problem. I feel very, very sorry for everyone who had to be around me. Comments like, “Jeezuth Chritht! Did Lemmiwinks die up your ass?” would not have been out of place.

37

I released a stinker in a job interview back in '98. I had been eating Brussel Sprouts the night before which resulted in a very sulphurous gas, the sort that makes no noise and burns when it comes out.

The interviewer didn’t say anything, he just pretended not to notice. But he must have noticed because it was really pungent. I got the job in spite of the fart. Or maybe because of it…

38

Speaking of this thread to Mr. SCL (who to my knowledge isn’t a poster or even a lurker), he reminded me of an incident a few years ago…

We were both in bed and (I thought) asleep. I woke up with pressure in my nether regions, and judged it safe to break wind. So I did - a long, lovely melodious sound (with no odor). As I snuggled back into my covers for sleep I hear: “You could have auditioned for the Army Band with that one.”

39

I am not sure what is funnier, the title of this manifartso or

That, my friend, is the opening line for your memoirs.

40

Probably because of it:

“A farting horse will never tire. A farting man is the one to hire.”