What a rhonda. I know what I would have done jarbabyj. I would have gotten up and offered that little old lady a seat. 
I meant the little old lady, not you jarbabyj
Bookstores to it to me. It’s like a Pavlov response. I walk into a bookstore and I immediately start sending out wafting puffs of putrefaction
HAHAHAHAHA! I thought I was the only one! I immediately have to poo when I walk into a video store!!!
I knew I liked you.
OMG… that’s truly cruel. I can’t imagine…
My most proud moment was truly making someone retch with a fart as he was following me up the stairs… I think I had some kind of bug or something, and it was truly hideous.
I scared my Aunt’s dog once with the sheer volume of one of my farts.
I was house/dog/mother-in-law sitting. Mae (my Aunt’s M-i-L) and I were watching tv in the family room. I had something for dinner that was making its presence known in the ol’ tail pipe. I didn’t want to gas the old lady (she was about 90 at this time) so I was keeping them in until she went to bed.
My stomach blew up twice its normal size from holding the farts back. Finally, after about thirty minutes of this she leaves to go to bed. Winston (my Aunt’s dog) was asleep on the couch. I was on the chair next to the couch. Not thirty seconds after Mae left the room I blissfully let one rip. It was LOUD (and quite satisfying) and poor Winston bolted off the couch in fear (he doesn’t like thunder either :D).
Better to fart
and bear the shame
Than hold it in
and bear the pain.
-author unknown
Why fart and waste it
When you can burp and taste it.
Look what you’ve started now, grienspace.
Hmm. If I tell my brother and sister that we talk about farting regularly around here, do you think that would be incentive enough for them to join up?
Personally, I don’t think so… but when my mom farts loudly, she always blames it on someone else. Uh, no… it wasn’t us, Mom. :rolleyes:
F_X
Homebrew, all I can say is that I am not going into any bookstores in Texas at al. But it seems I do fart a lot; my brother absolutely hates it when I do it in the computer room at his place.
And to continue what grienspace started:
A Pause For Poetry
A profound poem by Sir John Suckling, 17[sup]th[/sup]-century cavalier poet:
Love is the fart
Of every heart.
For when held in,
Doth pain the host.
But when released,
Pains others most.
F_X
Uh, this is about farts, not BMs.
Carry on.
Just two weekends ago, in the back seat with girlfriend, who was quite intoxicated, and she lets out a nose hair curler SBD. And then gets mad at me for not rolling down the windows. If I must suffer, so shall she.
Just another little rhyme:
Baked Beans are good for the heart,
the more you eat, the more you fart.
to fart to fart tis no disgrace
for it gives the body ease
it warms the blankets on cold winter nights
and scares away all the fleas!
I sometimes fart on the cat.
He narrows his eyes, twitches his whiskers, and puts his ears back, but thus far I have not managed to drive him from the room.
I bow to the jarbaby.
extra spicy chicken pad thai is the surest fuel.
“Bookstores to it to me. It’s like a Pavlov response. I walk into a bookstore and I immediately start sending out wafting puffs of putrefaction”
Raises hand I do that! HEEE!!
Lately, I’ve been doing quite a bit of farting lately. I turned part of my wooden chair white because of it! AHA!
Why burp and reveal it
When you can fart and feel it.
I have a friend who hates to go to video rental places with me. I have this terrible habit of squeezing out a few SBD’s in his vicinity if he insists on perusing stuff he wants to rent and I most emphatically (emphartically?) don’t. He gets this look, growls, “Bastard!” and lurches away from the offending miasma.
I once tracked my dad through a Toys 'r Us store by following my nose. Not that I wanted to, but I was trying to catch up with my folks and was walking up and down each aisle in an attempt to find them. I was also complaining, loudly, about the stench. When I caught up with my parents, I was asked to be quiet–the whole time I had been trying to find them and complaining about the smellies, Dad had apparently been waving his hand behind him in an attempt to dissipate the gas and muttering that he really wished I’d shut up.
I used to stifle my farts, too, until it occurred to me that the more I did it, the more frequently I had terrible abdominal pains from gas. I still try not to fart in front of people, but sometimes you do what you have to.
And to go with the rest of the poetry, here’s the old standby:
Beans, beans, the musical fruit.
The more you eat, the more you toot.
The more you toot, the better you feel,
so have beans with every meal!