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Marsupialized wrote:I went out to the warehouse here for a few minutes and witnessed a nice one.
One dude was reclining on a chair, he begins to stretch and yawn...right as the yawn is at full strength another dude leaps up and in one sweeping motion farts directly into the yawning dude's face....right into his mouth.
The dude was pissed, but not as pissed as I thought he would have been. Not as pissed as I would have been, that's for sure.

that's fucking beautiful art that is...

tmidgett wrote:still funny

does anyone on the planet besides steve still do the 'safety' bit?

Unfortunately. I am significantly larger than most of my friends. That means I only call "doorknob". I never get punched.

syntaxfree07 wrote:

tmidgett wrote:still funny

does anyone on the planet besides steve still do the 'safety' bit?

Unfortunately. I am significantly larger than most of my friends. That means I only call "doorknob". I never get punched.

I think I heard you rip an SBD, doorknob!!!!!!!!!

Marsupialized wrote:I went out to the warehouse here for a few minutes and witnessed a nice one.
One dude was reclining on a chair, he begins to stretch and yawn...right as the yawn is at full strength another dude leaps up and in one sweeping motion farts directly into the yawning dude's face....right into his mouth.
The dude was pissed, but not as pissed as I thought he would have been. Not as pissed as I would have been, that's for sure.

One day during high school I was in the locker room after gym and saw a dude step out of the shower and walk right over to this guy that was bending down tying his shoes. He spread his ass cheeks, got within inches of the guy's head and called his name. When the guy looked up, he ripped a fart which sprayed his face with the water that was still running down his back from the shower. I laughed so hard I almost puked. Of course, it didn't happen to me....

A fart-in-the-face is always good for a laugh.

When I was a kid I used to get really really bad flatus whenever I ate chicken soup. The farts were real ass-rippers, copious amounts of gas with a lingering stench that could curdle milk in the glass. Once in grade school, I cleared out an entire classroom with a "SBD" after eating chicken rice soup in the cafeteria for lunch.

Why did I get a violent ill effect from such a healthful soup? That question baffles me to this day. I suspect it had something to do with my particular internal colonic microflora at that stage in my life. I have since grown out of it, thankfully. Nowadays I can eat as much chicken soup as I like and suffer little or no flatulence.

Anyway, one night when I was about 12, a few hours after a dinner at which at least one large bowl of chicken soup had been consumed, I strolled into the family room to find my brother fast asleep on the couch with the TV on. I turned off the set and stood there in the room for a time, repeatedly tightening and relaxing my abdominal muscles in order to muster up a good one. It didn't take long. When I felt like my bowels were about ready to burst, I quietly unbuttoned my pants and lowered them to about mid-thigh. I hobbled over to the couch and squatted with my ass maybe 2-4 inches from his face, then quietly spoke my brother's name a few times to rouse him, As soon as I saw the whites of his eyes, I 'let go'. It was a monster, at least half a cubic foot in gaseous volume. There was a loud BRAAAAP! that lasted 3-4 seconds and sounded like one of those Harley Davidsons with the fat pipes racing full-throttle down the highway.

A fight immediately ensued. When our father got up to see what the ruckus was all about, my brother told him, "John farted in my face!" My dad could barely keep from laughing as he sent us both off to bed.

If and when I ever have kids, I hope they'll be boys.

My friend used to host Risk tournaments in his basement. If you've never had the chance to play a good game of Risk, you're missing out. It's a game that can cause some pretty bad feelings to emerge. My uncle has observed only the barest acknowledgments that we are even related since he became convinced that I played a dirty trick during a game last Thanksgiving. Anyway, the games we played in my friend's basement were about as emotionally charged as a hot girls with douchebags joint. There was yelling, there were threats made, and blood was spilled on more than one occasion. We took it seriously.

The loudest, most impulsive member of the group was a man named Brock. I say man because at 16 years old, the word fit him perfectly. Brock is a large human being. Brock might be able to hold a carrot with his belly button. Brock likes to dance, sing, and play basketball. When he does any of these things (or anything else, really), he sweats. A lot. He's the kind of guy that girls want to approach and or dance with when they see him dancing like a vision quester. He also knows that these girls will be instantly repulsed when they come into contact with any part of his skin or clothing, which is typically clammy and slimy with sweat. This doesn't bother Brock. Brock is OK.

Brock also farts, which brings me to the reason I'm posting in this thread. One night, we were really just entering the interesting part of a game. Open alliances were fraying, secret alliances were being made, and whoever was holding Australia was praying that he could keep a low enough profile to avoid annihilation until he could drop his cards. Then Brock farted. I don't remember if it made a sound, but that's not what was important. What is important to the story is that this fart would definitely have made everyone present's top three lists of the worst smelling farts they had ever encountered. All it took was a collective glance at each other's faces for the unspoken decision to evacuate the basement to be made.

As important as Risk was, the fart was too terrible to continue the game. We spent the next few hours watching trash on TV upstairs and periodically arguing over who should be sent downstairs to check on the progress of the fart's dissipation. Hours. I'm pretty sure we ended up calling it a night and continuing the game at a later date. Awful fart.

The future of music.

So I am sitting here, there's only two of us all day. It's me and a girl I barely ever talk to and we are on far sides of the office. I lean back and let out a nice long quiet fart. Was out drinking beer and eating pizza last night so it's quite rancid. It's very powerful and it's just hanging in the air around me. Of course she picks this exact time to come over to ask me a question. She powered through it and ignored it, I was surprised.

Methane from farting causes ozone degradation. Stop farting, save the planet. Use your sphincter responsibly.