Well Sunshine and scout, I’m glad to know I wasn’t the only one who grew up with verbally-repressed parents when it comes to flatulence. Come to think of it, I don’t particularly like my kids saying fart either.
Jar, that mistaken F-word story could have easily happened in my house.
Now poopadoops…
That has possibilities.
Ok, who else does this?
You’ve been at a dinner party, informal male-female type of gathering, you know friends, but not close enough friends to fart in front of, and you’ve been laughing alot, swallowing alot of air. Then the first thing you do once you get in your car to leave is bust the hugest fart imaginable right into the car seat? Man, it feels so good to decompress the ol’ bowels after holding in all that gas for three and a half hours! Ahhh…
C’mon, I know I’m not the only one!
Swallowing air has nothing to do with flatulence. Shooting a bunny is strictly a digestion-related phenomenon, the result of bacteria working on the food in your gastrointestinal tract.
Burping is the result of swallowing air while talking, laughing, eating, etc.
I don’t remember exactly how long it takes for food to pass from the “just swallowed” stage to the “creating methane monsters” stage, but I believe it’s several hours (in the neighborhood of 12 - 18). To avoid those gas pains at a dinner party, lay off the chili the day before.
I work a second job part-time a couple of hours a week. It involves standing up and leading a lecture. Surely I can’t be tooting away as I’m speaking. So I’ve got to hold them in until later.
So as luck would have it, each time, as I get into my car, I crank up the engine and my ass at the same time. Ah, sweet relief.
Does being able to make ones supervisor have to leave the room and go down the hall quoting scripture count for anything?
“Lo though I walk through the shadow of the valley of death…”
Of course, a workplace fart is something to be proud of. My most embarasing one was in the middle of reciving a nice BJ. That relationship never was the same afterwards.
I just wanted to check in to report that some woman and her son (they looked like inbreeds) let her ass rip in the grocery store last night 6 feet away from me!
WTF!?!?!
It was one of those putters that come faster and louder the longer they go. Her’s was at least 5 seconds. The scary thing is, is the son didn’t even blink, like she does it so often he doesn’t even notice anymore.
That’s all you’d need… some anal form of Dueling Banjos right there in the store, especially if one of 'em started going so fast that the other couldn’t keep up.
God, no.
When my wife and I had just started dating, we once spent an entire night smooching. Nothing else. We had great big, fat lips the mornign after. I had spent the afternoon and evening with her in her apartment, and then the whole night, too. Naturally, you don’t dare fart in front of someone at such an early stage in a relationship, so I had been holding all things gaseous back for at least sixteen hours.
The morning comes, and I have to go back to my aprtment and check on my cats and then drop by the office to get some things taken care of even though it is a holiday. I walk out of her building, and the pressure got to be too much. I was outside, so I thought I’d just let it fly. I ease up on the sphincter muscles, and try to let it slip out. BBBRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAPP The loudest fart I have ever released. This is bad enough. The whole complex has heard me. To make it worse, the complex is four buildings in a row, with connecting sections on one side and a huge fucking wall on the other. Basically, I am standing in a long tunnel with echo chambers. So what actually came out was BBBRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAPP … pause …BBBRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAPP … pause … BBBRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAPP … pause … BBBRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAPP
Absolutely horrid.
To top it off, the future Mrs. Furd was standing at her window, watching me leave. Did I mention that it was a warm day? She had the window open, and heard the whole symphony.
It seems to have made good impression on her, anyway. We’ve been together for seven years now, and married for five - and we have two children.
Beans, beans, they’re good for your heart.
The more you eat, the more you fart.
The more you fart, the better you feel, so eat your beans at every meal.
I remember once my dad, my brother, and I were at a youth group volleyball practice. Dad was helping the team by serving to us and was unable to refrain from passing gas each time he struck the ball. Bad enough by itself–but my oh-so-hilarious brother eggs it on by commenting loudly enough for all to hear, “Knock the fart out of the ball, Dad?”
I suppose that was about as bad as all the times Dad would fart loudly and ask my brother, “Was that you? Well, your voice has changed, but your breath still smells the same!”
This is only two of many, many fart-related pranks those two have pulled on one another. Frankly, I’m surprised we all lived through the fumes to tell the tales!!
My eldest daughter finds great amusement in sneaking up on her parents at various times. She’ll hide around a corner and just peek around occasionally hoping to jump out and scare us. She seems to think it’s clever to be able to put something over on us.
One day I had just come home from work and was standing in the kitchen talking to my wife and my daughter decided she’d sneak up behind the refrigerator and crouch down to pounce on me when I start to leave the room. I caught a glimpse of her as she was getting into position but I’m facing away from her for the most part. I continue talking to my wife and discreetly back up a few steps to align with the fridge then I take a couple quick steps back and swivel my hips to get into firing position. I let a quick one go and then walk back to my previous position to resume the conversation with my wife.
Curiosity gets the better of me and I decide to assess the damage. I walk back and look around the fridge. She’s on her butt leaning against the wall with a dazed look on her face.
My brother used to call farting “floating an air biscuit”.
My two contributions are the Day Dad nearly got arrested for Endangering the Life of A State Trooper and The Day the Family Went to Disneyland.
The State Trooper Story:
I, wife, one and a half year old son, and friend of the family are in the family minivan on the road. We hear the family friend in the back with my son say “oh my God”. Wondering what was the matter, we asked what was wrong and she answered “Wait for it, you’ll find out”. My son had cut loose in an SBD and it was raunchy!!. We pulled over on the shoulder and opened all the windows to let the stench out. A State Trooper car pulled up a few minutes later wondering if he could help. We explained, he didn’t believe us until he stuck his head into the side door. The stench was still fresh in the van, and the poor trooper nearly fainted and hit his head on the pavement. We told him that we warned him. He just wondered what we fed our son.
The Disneyland story:
Family outing when I was a teenager. My family and my uncle’s family (4 kids). On the Tom Sawyer boats in Adventureland (which is now gone) my uncle lets loose with one of his patented cheek rippers just as we get to the dock. All of us look back into boat to see the reaction of the new boarders. Some of them looked ready to barf, others looked distinctly green, two children started looking for the turds that they were sure were left behind. My Dad’s response was that he could do better. We get in line to get on the Haunted Mansion ride. You wait in a long line then go into a room. The door’s close and the room turns out to be an elevator holding about 50 people. Dad cuts loose and the whole elevator starts looking at everybody else looking for someone to blame. It was so bad the girl at the bottom floor when the door opened nearly lost her eyebrows.
I’ve got Usual Suspects on DVD, and it contains a documentary on the making of. The funniest part is where the director and the main actors are describing what happened while they were filming the line-up scene: each guy stood in front of a height chart and were given a card to read from that said “Gimme your wallet cocksucker.”
Somebody farted on the first take (Benecio Del Toro) and afterwards the guys cannot keep a straight face to save their lives. Every time they started reading it would come out as “Gimme your wallet cockBWAHAHAHHA!” Del Toro didn’t help matters much by continuing to fart and talk in that weird accent he adopted.
Garbriel Byrne would cuss the guys out for goofing around, then start getting into gigglefits himself. The director said he took them into a room during lunch break and told them they weren’t going to ruin this for him. They were going to act like professionals and get their shit together…then when they resumed filming, they broke out into gigglefits again.
They did it all day, and because of scheduling and budget, they couldn’t refilm the scene later. When the editor got the footage together, he told the director it’d make sense that the guys would find humor in this situation, because it was so obvious they were being railroaded by the police, so he put the scene together with that in mind, and it worked beautifully.
Alas, I have the sort of butt that precludes violent, Richter-scale farts. I have a bony booty and there’s enough hair along the Grand Canyon to keep 'em from flapping in the breeze. They’re all silent, and since I stopped eating meat and drinking milk (as I’m slightly lactose-intolerant), they’re practically odorless and as rare as igloos in Hell.
