It’s time that you return the favor by turning yourself into a human WMD. Eat a steady diet of beans, hard boiled eggs, broccoli, onions, cauliflower, cabbage, radishes, and raw apples (toss down a couple beers at lunch, too). Then stop by his desk whenever you feel like it’s time to float an air biscuit. Ask to borrow his stapler and let one rip. See if he has any rubber bands and give him a butt blast. Or just make a point of walking past his desk and just let your ass do the talking.
If you’re interested in making a grand, but probably futile gesture, try lighting up a cigar in your cubicle next time he does it.
I cannot stop laughing at this.
It has to be a “Guy Thing”.
Sponteous Combustion nearly Explained.
can’t breath…laughing too hard.
Farts are funny. Anyone who says otherwise should be Dutch ovened until they change their mind.
I agree with fighting back.
Perhaps you could spring for some new underpants for him?
I’ve read, that you are not supposed to excuse yourself for farting as discussing it is only makes it a bigger faux pas.
Of course some people need to be tried for crimes against humanity.
My Fart Will Go On <– YouTube video.
Don’t forget to crank the volume. 
.
My cube neighbor is a serial farter. What makes it worse is that a while ago, the company upgraded everyone to an Aeron chair - you know, the kind that’s all mesh and no upholstery.
Well, Aeron chairs offer absolutely no muffling of the noise. And they provide no resistance to gas flow. With the old foam upholsterd chairs, the noise was less and they’d be sitting in their own stink longer, rather than immediately releasing it to the whole office.
Fortunately, there’s an air vent directly over me, so the stink is blown off in the other direction.
Ah, the Girls Don’t Fart fart.
Explained in The Fart Book, which I consider to be an essential tome.
Paraphrasing, a girl can blow out a brick wall and kill a whole flock of birds, but she didn’t fart. Girls don’t fart.
My favorites?
The Bathtub fart – In an old-fashion iron bathtub, the fart takes on a wonderful resonance.
The Going Up Stairs fart – It comes out in evenly spaced little bursts.
The Symphonic fart – First it’s loud, then it’s soft, then it’s loud, then it’s soft. Keeps on going long after you think it should have stopped.
Oh, man…it’s a good thing I wasn’t drinking anything when I read that! 
Shouldn’t that be *Crap *Dusting?
You, Sir, are correct.
Dern typos!
Try this link: http://odd.phootoons.com/messages.html
I see your video and raise you Oops, I farted again:
No, no, no. You mean a WAD . . . Weapon of Ass Destruction!!!
::d&r::
I used to fart with abandon when I had a regular office chair, as it would do just as described above.
Then, I obtained the Aeron chair and quickly learned I can no longer fart in my cubicle. Oh, the horrors! So now, I’ve learned to hold it and go to the bathroom and release the pent up masses, uh, gasses.
Although, when I was outside the bathroom today, I learned the bathroom fan ** does not ** muffle or suppress the noise from leaving the bathroom. I was in the kitchen area (next to the restrooms) and a woman passed by and went into the bathroom. I * heard * her peeing. Now, if I can hear her peeing, imagine the sonorous sounds echoing into the white ampitheater of the toilet bowl created by my daily, er, devotions.
Which brings us to today.
We ordered out at a new chinese restaurant. Very good food. Unfortunately, I got the beef with broccoli combo along with the deep fried chicken wings and a bowl of egg drop soup. Delicious. However, I didn’t really think through my dining decision and the combinations of cuisine, nor the ramifications of said choices.
However…
I saved up my usual allotment of flatulence (or so I thought). I went to the bathroom and had little control, due to the sheer volume escaping. I was picturing the bathroom scene from Dumb and Dumber, and had to grab a paper towel to muffle my giggles. The fact I was giggling reduced my sphincter control and made the sounds uncontrollable. The scent was memorable. When I finally gained control over both orifices, I cleaned up and left the scene of the attack.
The bonus?
The restroom is also only about 15 feet from the President’s office.
It was a good day.
You may have brought this thread back from the grave, but sir, it was worth it.
Women do not, snore, burp, sweat or fart.
Therefore, they must bitch, or they will explode