1) I'd gone on a lads holiday to Rome to watch the Roma - Lazio Derby, there was four of us and two rooms, it was the morning after a heady diet of lovely Italian food and lots of all manner of alchohol I was fast asleep and let rip a series of farts that my awake friend witnessed and said I was pulling disgusted faces in my sleep at my own stench to the point of almost waking myself up. I'm slightly more worried about him watching me sleep than my grotty arse but still.
2) and this I do vaguely recall firsthand, I was at the half asleep dreamy state just before you drop off to asleep, and like a dog or cat scratching at their bedding to make it comfortable, I did three short and to the point farts on one side, rolled on to my otheride and did another three short to the point ones, alas (for her) on my girls leg and then fell happily asleep.
Bonus Beat:
after a very heavy weekend of almost no sleep. I passed out face down on my bed and the weight of my back pretty much played my stomach like a deflated bagpipe and farted and burped continually for about 30 seconds. The most resonant, deep throated burp I've ever done, akin to a foghorn
The other night i was walking home and I passed by two very unattractive bettys who were both wastededed. I give them the obnoxious fake fart sound, followed by, "Ughhhh, you've got bad gas!" To which they responded, "No you have gas," mad offended like. They were yelling shit all down the block until someone else started making fun of them.
The other night i was walking home and I passed by two very unattractive bettys who were both wastededed. I give them the obnoxious fake fart sound, followed by, "Ughhhh, you've got bad gas!" To which they responded, "No you have gas," mad offended like. They were yelling shit all down the block until someone else started making fun of them.
Long story that I'll domy best to paraphrase - but it's a famous one at my highschool.
I had sort of an asshole (ha) teacher for 10th grade history 6th period, a class which was filled with the crux of the worst behaved students (my friends) in my grade.
This class, coincidentally, also immediately followed lunch. Now, being ashkenazi, I've always had stomach issues and in my class would definitely be pointed to as the gassy kid. So, one day during review for finals, I casually let a small inaudible one go that just reeked. Teacher was in the middle of her lecture, one of my poorly behaved friends yelled out "jeeeesus man" and covered his face with his shirt, a trend which immediately spread throughout the room.
The teacher had it out for me to begin with - she sort of sucked. So, she stops the class, throws down her chalk, walks outside, and says loudly "whoever did that needs to come out and speak with me RIGHT NOW".
I chuckle, go outside, and let her give me some shit, whatever. What I didn't know, was that after our chat, she took it a step further and reported it to the dean and even suggested expulsion. Swear to god.
My parents got called in for a meeting, my dad was FURIOUS. "My son will fart where ever he goddamn pleases" I think was the quote that may have actually been used.
The dean ended up talking with me - a man whose english sounded a bit like Tony Montana's but waaaay faster and less pronounced.
"You can't be doing that in class maing" he said. Nice guy, but it was falling on def ears.
Anyway, the whole fiasco blew over, but I went down in history as the kid who had expulsion threatened on him for farting in class.
Turns out that this same teacher actually did have another kid expelled due to his behavior many years earlier. Apparently, one day, after consistently acting out and being a troublemaker, he was reprimanded by this teacher, same room and all, for being a class clown. In the midst of being chewed out, he reached into his backpack and pulled out some womens make-up and started applying it to his face.
He was expelled. That kid was a young Paul Thomas Anderson.
The bathroom at my work's office has a marble floor and like a waist-high marble back splash. Not sure if "back splash" is the right term for what it's intended to catch the splashes of, but point being: There's an echo. I was in there around 10 a.m., and it's like that Wesley Snipes' movie about skydiving -- the doors to each of the three stalls were each closed tight, with that unmistakable staccato carrying. And so I'm in there and I heard a sound like never before -- it was a real juicer and not muffled. At all. This wasn't one of those shooting-bullets-through-a-pillow type pants fart or even a gassing into the toilet bowl, the latter of which does have an echo but a muffled echo. This was straight open-ended, three- or four-syllable wet ass into the environment, and I was left wondering if some dude was just standing, upright, bare-ass in the bathroom playing a very dangerous game.
We STILL do this at my job, dudes are damn near 45 years old handing farts around. We call it "The King" though, named after the Burger King commercials where The King brings a hamburger from behind his back and hands it to you. Hence, "OHHH, SWEEN DID THE KING!!!".
Every one at work has a pose or two that they execute when they are coming with a loud one. I got three, besides The King. I do the Heisman, where I form a perfect Heisman Trophy pose and present my gift when the arm reaches full extension.
I also enjoy The Crane. When I execute The Crane in a roomful of co-workers someone will undoubtedly shout "Sweep the leg". The key to executing poses is to dramatically form your pose and be as sweeping in your motion as possible, and then when the pose reaches full maturity you demonstrate your scent of the day.
Whutchu know about the Bandleader? I don't think anyone does this one, it takes planning. You gotta be able to walk into a room KNOWING your gonna fart when you get in there, and come in the room HIGHSTEPPING and pumping your arms (or playing air-trumpet with the body twisting side-to-side) like you're leading Grambling out onto the field. And when the time is right to blow the tubas, you absolutely freeze with a look on your face like you just won the lottery. Once dudes know about the Bandleader, you come in a room in full execution and people scramble because they don't know when or where you're gonna order up the horns.
My most memorable fart though, besides all of the times I cleared out my meeting room of 25 people, was the time I prevented an ENTIRE GARAGE FULL of 80 technicians from entering the building. We came into my job one day, and all the work crews go into their rooms and sit down when all of a sudden the union boss comes in and asks to speak to all of us out in the main truck parking area. AWESOME!! 80 people all file through this one door into the hangar, and I'm the last one out so I just hang back and stand by the door. I'm giggling to myself knowing that I'm either gonna blast these fools out there or wait until we get back in the room....then it dawns on me. I'm at the door! Everyone has to walk right by where I'm standing to get back to the rooms!!
I held that thing in for close to 5 minutes or so. I had a feeling that the spech was winding down, and timed it perfectly...let a ninja slip out, but nah dude, not in the normal way. I straight up lifted my leg and pulled my asscheek open, and did this thing with my breathing and stomach where I push out more air. I heard the WHOOSH, then shook the cheek a bit to get it going. It hit right away since I was under an air vent, and I opened the door and held it for people to go inside.
The first two got through but covered up their noses and broke into a frightened trot, then as people were getting near and it was spreading from the air vent and I was standing there laughing the whoooole crowd let out a "ohhhhhh ewwww Sweeennnnn whaaa the fucccckk" while I got tears in my eyes CACKLING at the crowd. Some people ran back and didn't catch any, but I'd say about 40 half the group up front caught the vapors. And they all waited a few minutes to come back in.
The even better part was we had some new people who had just transferred into the garage the week before, that was their first introduction to me.
I played poker the night before and drank a whole bottle of Shiraz by myself and ate all these Guacamole doritos, plus some homemade chocolate chips cookies and this cheese thing. Haven't been able to replicate the concoction since then, it must have been just some magic in the air. Really I have no way of describing the smell, but let me just say that I've been smelling my farts for a long-ass time and I was baffled by the odor I produced that day. It was almost chemical, like a weapon. That was the day i got the name Chernobyl Butt.
You know you've hit the jackpot when your wife/husband/sig other gets mad at you for the fart. Not play mad - like "oh you!" but like, really f*cking tight with you because you just made at least one room of your happy home uninhabitable.
Oh my dude, this summer I absolutely punished the poor woman. I managed to achieve what was previously thought to be impossible and woke her up from a deep sleep on the strength of the smell alone.
It was a hot, dog-ass night in July. We decided to sleep downstairs since it gets a little hot upstairs, and bedded down in the sunroom with open windows on our left and right. A fan on a low speed was placed in the opposite corner, directed at us since we enjoy the concept of circulating air to promote freshness. My gorgeous body was between her and the fan, and she was between myself and the wall. A little lighthearted pillow talk ensued, and we gradually drifted off to sleep.
I think the toxic brew that night consisted of an unfamiliar combination of Chipotle Mexican, Bourbon County stout, some type of Ben & Jerry's, and maybe some protein powder earlier with a glass of milk somewhere along the way. Whatever the hell I ate, it really didn't enjoy the company of culinary strangers. As we were lounging about the estate throughout the evening I let a few warning shots fly out, got the usual stern (in her mind) rebuke of her fleeing to the other end of the sectional and whatnot, but nothing transpired that foreshadowed what was to come.
I'm assuming most men on here have done it. We've all figured we're in the clear when the love interest is asleep. You might be involved with the wife, the girlfriend, or maybe some new bit or a one-nighter where you've been holding in the aromatic secret until they're out cold. Then you let it go, under the covers, and don't move a muscle to try and trap it in the mudflaps. I've confirmed this with others, we've all done it, so if you haven't done this there's something wrong with you. You're in the clear right? She/he is sleeping, the sense of smell probably deactivates when we sleep, so let it go and revel in the thrill.
Something woke me up. Something stirred, shifted a bit. My stomach felt way off. I sprang out of bed, staggered to the bathroom and sat for a minute. Nothing. Figuring maybe it was just a passing bubble (whatever that means) I went back to bed. I laid there for two minutes before it came back. This time I knew it was major league, gametime, dig deep and make this happen for the fans type action. As mentioned earlier, the fan was buzzing steadily along in the corner. I figured if I caught the wind current (you know you're skilled in the game when you factor in the wind) from the fan it would blow what was about to happen out the window.
My angle was off. Way off. What I let loose isn't even the story here, it was gnarly and toxic and all the bad things that you can imagine. Just picture a memorable fart or smell that only comes along in your life when you're sick with the flu or ate some foreign object or got mistaken for a labrador that had some cheese, that's what came out. The problem was that my bare shiny and glorious ass was pointed directly at the fan, churning away in the opposite corner at the steady pace of a Kenyan marathoner. And that fan blew everything right back to the other corner and held it there, right where Mrs. Sween's head was having peaceful dreams of a wonderful life ahead of her.
I realized what was happening but it was too late. I was blown back to my pillow from the odor, then laid there in a state of sheer terror while she whimpered a bit, then squirmed and sort of yelped. I imagine she was dreaming about peaceful meadows and puppies frolicking when suddenly vats of sewage swallowed everything whole and my horrible face appeared on the horizon, laughing maniacally. She woke up, yelled a quick and whiny "BAaaAABE", threw a haymaker in my general direction which bounced off my massive chest then threw the covers over her head and said "I can't believe you just did that to me".
I eventually drifted off to sleep, and the story has been brought up a few times since then. This particular explosion is an easy top 5 for me though, right up there with the story from work in the post above, the one at CVS when I had the flu (which was posted on here at some point, I forget where and when), and my two week period last year when I put ground up flax seeds in almost everything I ate.
Farts are the worst in a hot shower. It magnifies the smell by at least 50x. awful.
THIS! THIS!!!!
My worst farts are the ones that barely consist of anything.
Just tiny, tiny releases. No sound. Can hardly feel em. Just the smallest of air packets.
But potent as all hades.
But what really is truly unfathomable about these little guys in the hot shower?
The fucking SPEED with which they travel from anus to nostril.
I'm talking literally zero elapsed time.
How the hell do they do that?
I'm washing my hair and one of these tiny monsters is released,
and seriously that very moment, almost even fucking preceding the actual fart,
I smell it.
So weird.
Anyways, the funniest farts are the ones around kids. Wow. No better audience.
after a buddy and I saw The Roots in Milwaukee sometime in the late 90s, we went to a bar called The Harp and I cleared out pretty much the entire pool table area with one. I felt terrible for doing it.
Epic. I watched it 3 times before I even saw the shit flying out. I was laughing so much I cried and didn't even see it.
This thread is an amazing collection of stories. I read part of it at work one day and had to stop. It's too dangerous. You can't say "I'm reading about farts, that's why I'm laughing so hard."
I am regularly woken by the Mrs spraying me with Oust or some other odour-eating air freshener after I've "Waved one through" in my sleep. If the noise doesn't wake her, apparently the smell does. She is a very light sleeper and then struggles to get back to sleep. She gets realllly mad.
What can I do? When I am asleep, all bets are off.
I'm convinced that 2005 was the high point of Soul Struttery.
I can see it. Message boards dying as the norms continued to flood the internet. Established board heddz unleash one final death roll to stay above water. But it's too much.
I'm convinced that 2005 was the high point of Soul Struttery.
I can see it. Message boards dying as the norms continued to flood the internet. Established board heddz unleash one final death roll to stay above water. But it's too much.
Seems like a lot of classic threads occurred around this time and there was a lot of activity.
Comments
1) I'd gone on a lads holiday to Rome to watch the Roma - Lazio Derby, there was four of us and two rooms, it was the morning after a heady diet of lovely Italian food and lots of all manner of alchohol I was fast asleep and let rip a series of farts that my awake friend witnessed and said I was pulling disgusted faces in my sleep at my own stench to the point of almost waking myself up. I'm slightly more worried about him watching me sleep than my grotty arse but still.
2) and this I do vaguely recall firsthand, I was at the half asleep dreamy state just before you drop off to asleep, and like a dog or cat scratching at their bedding to make it comfortable, I did three short and to the point farts on one side, rolled on to my otheride and did another three short to the point ones, alas (for her) on my girls leg and then fell happily asleep.
Bonus Beat:
after a very heavy weekend of almost no sleep. I passed out face down on my bed and the weight of my back pretty much played my stomach like a deflated bagpipe and farted and burped continually for about 30 seconds. The most resonant, deep throated burp I've ever done, akin to a foghorn
f*cking excellent. He was probably wafting it around while doing up his snaps like that.
I had sort of an asshole (ha) teacher for 10th grade history 6th period, a class which was filled with the crux of the worst behaved students (my friends) in my grade.
This class, coincidentally, also immediately followed lunch. Now, being ashkenazi, I've always had stomach issues and in my class would definitely be pointed to as the gassy kid. So, one day during review for finals, I casually let a small inaudible one go that just reeked.
Teacher was in the middle of her lecture, one of my poorly behaved friends yelled out "jeeeesus man" and covered his face with his shirt, a trend which immediately spread throughout the room.
The teacher had it out for me to begin with - she sort of sucked. So, she stops the class, throws down her chalk, walks outside, and says loudly "whoever did that needs to come out and speak with me RIGHT NOW".
I chuckle, go outside, and let her give me some shit, whatever. What I didn't know, was that after our chat, she took it a step further and reported it to the dean and even suggested expulsion. Swear to god.
My parents got called in for a meeting, my dad was FURIOUS. "My son will fart where ever he goddamn pleases" I think was the quote that may have actually been used.
The dean ended up talking with me - a man whose english sounded a bit like Tony Montana's but waaaay faster and less pronounced.
"You can't be doing that in class maing" he said. Nice guy, but it was falling on def ears.
Anyway, the whole fiasco blew over, but I went down in history as the kid who had expulsion threatened on him for farting in class.
Turns out that this same teacher actually did have another kid expelled due to his behavior many years earlier. Apparently, one day, after consistently acting out and being a troublemaker, he was reprimanded by this teacher, same room and all, for being a class clown. In the midst of being chewed out, he reached into his backpack and pulled out some womens make-up and started applying it to his face.
He was expelled. That kid was a young Paul Thomas Anderson.
Pretty nuts.
Every one at work has a pose or two that they execute when they are coming with a loud one. I got three, besides The King. I do the Heisman, where I form a perfect Heisman Trophy pose and present my gift when the arm reaches full extension.
I also enjoy The Crane. When I execute The Crane in a roomful of co-workers someone will undoubtedly shout "Sweep the leg". The key to executing poses is to dramatically form your pose and be as sweeping in your motion as possible, and then when the pose reaches full maturity you demonstrate your scent of the day.
Whutchu know about the Bandleader? I don't think anyone does this one, it takes planning. You gotta be able to walk into a room KNOWING your gonna fart when you get in there, and come in the room HIGHSTEPPING and pumping your arms (or playing air-trumpet with the body twisting side-to-side) like you're leading Grambling out onto the field. And when the time is right to blow the tubas, you absolutely freeze with a look on your face like you just won the lottery. Once dudes know about the Bandleader, you come in a room in full execution and people scramble because they don't know when or where you're gonna order up the horns.
My most memorable fart though, besides all of the times I cleared out my meeting room of 25 people, was the time I prevented an ENTIRE GARAGE FULL of 80 technicians from entering the building. We came into my job one day, and all the work crews go into their rooms and sit down when all of a sudden the union boss comes in and asks to speak to all of us out in the main truck parking area. AWESOME!! 80 people all file through this one door into the hangar, and I'm the last one out so I just hang back and stand by the door. I'm giggling to myself knowing that I'm either gonna blast these fools out there or wait until we get back in the room....then it dawns on me. I'm at the door! Everyone has to walk right by where I'm standing to get back to the rooms!!
I held that thing in for close to 5 minutes or so. I had a feeling that the spech was winding down, and timed it perfectly...let a ninja slip out, but nah dude, not in the normal way. I straight up lifted my leg and pulled my asscheek open, and did this thing with my breathing and stomach where I push out more air. I heard the WHOOSH, then shook the cheek a bit to get it going. It hit right away since I was under an air vent, and I opened the door and held it for people to go inside.
The first two got through but covered up their noses and broke into a frightened trot, then as people were getting near and it was spreading from the air vent and I was standing there laughing the whoooole crowd let out a "ohhhhhh ewwww Sweeennnnn whaaa the fucccckk" while I got tears in my eyes CACKLING at the crowd. Some people ran back and didn't catch any, but I'd say about 40 half the group up front caught the vapors. And they all waited a few minutes to come back in.
The even better part was we had some new people who had just transferred into the garage the week before, that was their first introduction to me.
I played poker the night before and drank a whole bottle of Shiraz by myself and ate all these Guacamole doritos, plus some homemade chocolate chips cookies and this cheese thing. Haven't been able to replicate the concoction since then, it must have been just some magic in the air. Really I have no way of describing the smell, but let me just say that I've been smelling my farts for a long-ass time and I was baffled by the odor I produced that day. It was almost chemical, like a weapon. That was the day i got the name Chernobyl Butt.
-Sween.
Fixed it.
Oh my dude, this summer I absolutely punished the poor woman. I managed to achieve what was previously thought to be impossible and woke her up from a deep sleep on the strength of the smell alone.
It was a hot, dog-ass night in July. We decided to sleep downstairs since it gets a little hot upstairs, and bedded down in the sunroom with open windows on our left and right. A fan on a low speed was placed in the opposite corner, directed at us since we enjoy the concept of circulating air to promote freshness. My gorgeous body was between her and the fan, and she was between myself and the wall. A little lighthearted pillow talk ensued, and we gradually drifted off to sleep.
I think the toxic brew that night consisted of an unfamiliar combination of Chipotle Mexican, Bourbon County stout, some type of Ben & Jerry's, and maybe some protein powder earlier with a glass of milk somewhere along the way. Whatever the hell I ate, it really didn't enjoy the company of culinary strangers. As we were lounging about the estate throughout the evening I let a few warning shots fly out, got the usual stern (in her mind) rebuke of her fleeing to the other end of the sectional and whatnot, but nothing transpired that foreshadowed what was to come.
I'm assuming most men on here have done it. We've all figured we're in the clear when the love interest is asleep. You might be involved with the wife, the girlfriend, or maybe some new bit or a one-nighter where you've been holding in the aromatic secret until they're out cold. Then you let it go, under the covers, and don't move a muscle to try and trap it in the mudflaps. I've confirmed this with others, we've all done it, so if you haven't done this there's something wrong with you. You're in the clear right? She/he is sleeping, the sense of smell probably deactivates when we sleep, so let it go and revel in the thrill.
Something woke me up. Something stirred, shifted a bit. My stomach felt way off. I sprang out of bed, staggered to the bathroom and sat for a minute. Nothing. Figuring maybe it was just a passing bubble (whatever that means) I went back to bed. I laid there for two minutes before it came back. This time I knew it was major league, gametime, dig deep and make this happen for the fans type action. As mentioned earlier, the fan was buzzing steadily along in the corner. I figured if I caught the wind current (you know you're skilled in the game when you factor in the wind) from the fan it would blow what was about to happen out the window.
My angle was off. Way off. What I let loose isn't even the story here, it was gnarly and toxic and all the bad things that you can imagine. Just picture a memorable fart or smell that only comes along in your life when you're sick with the flu or ate some foreign object or got mistaken for a labrador that had some cheese, that's what came out. The problem was that my bare shiny and glorious ass was pointed directly at the fan, churning away in the opposite corner at the steady pace of a Kenyan marathoner. And that fan blew everything right back to the other corner and held it there, right where Mrs. Sween's head was having peaceful dreams of a wonderful life ahead of her.
I realized what was happening but it was too late. I was blown back to my pillow from the odor, then laid there in a state of sheer terror while she whimpered a bit, then squirmed and sort of yelped. I imagine she was dreaming about peaceful meadows and puppies frolicking when suddenly vats of sewage swallowed everything whole and my horrible face appeared on the horizon, laughing maniacally. She woke up, yelled a quick and whiny "BAaaAABE", threw a haymaker in my general direction which bounced off my massive chest then threw the covers over her head and said "I can't believe you just did that to me".
I eventually drifted off to sleep, and the story has been brought up a few times since then. This particular explosion is an easy top 5 for me though, right up there with the story from work in the post above, the one at CVS when I had the flu (which was posted on here at some point, I forget where and when), and my two week period last year when I put ground up flax seeds in almost everything I ate.
THIS! THIS!!!!
My worst farts are the ones that barely consist of anything.
Just tiny, tiny releases. No sound. Can hardly feel em. Just the smallest of air packets.
But potent as all hades.
But what really is truly unfathomable about these little guys in the hot shower?
The fucking SPEED with which they travel from anus to nostril.
I'm talking literally zero elapsed time.
How the hell do they do that?
I'm washing my hair and one of these tiny monsters is released,
and seriously that very moment, almost even fucking preceding the actual fart,
I smell it.
So weird.
Anyways, the funniest farts are the ones around kids. Wow. No better audience.
And that Sween story above is amazing.
after a buddy and I saw The Roots in Milwaukee sometime in the late 90s, we went to a bar called The Harp and I cleared out pretty much the entire pool table area with one. I felt terrible for doing it.
Epic. I watched it 3 times before I even saw the shit flying out. I was laughing so much I cried and didn't even see it.
This thread is an amazing collection of stories. I read part of it at work one day and had to stop. It's too dangerous. You can't say "I'm reading about farts, that's why I'm laughing so hard."
What can I do? When I am asleep, all bets are off.
The shit spray was phenomenal. It reminded me of Osama bin Laden's revenge video on South Park:
I can see it. Message boards dying as the norms continued to flood the internet. Established board heddz unleash one final death roll to stay above water. But it's too much.
Seems like a lot of classic threads occurred around this time and there was a lot of activity.
Anyone had any memorable farts lately?
It happened again. Good lord! I watched it like five times and couldn't even look at it because I was crying.
This is one of the all time great threads. It's the ultimate pick
me upper.