Farts, what kind are yours?

Vain: You love the smell of your own farts.

Amiable: You love the smell of other people's farts.

Proud: You think your farts are exceptionally fine.

Shy: You release silent farts and then blush.

Impudent: You boldly fart out loud and then laugh.

Unfortunate: You try really hard to fart, but you poop instead.

Scientific: You fart regularly but you're concerned about pollution.

Nervous: You stop in the middle of your fart.

Honest: You admit that you farted but offer good medical reasons.

Dishonest: You far and then blame the dog.

Foolish: You suppress your farts for hours.

Thrifty: You always keep a couple of good farts in reserve.

Anti-Social: When the need arises, you excuse yourself from the room and fart in private.

Strategic: You fart and then conceal it with loud coughing.

Sadistic: You fart in bed and then pull the cover up over your partner's head.

Intellectual: You can determine from the smell of any fart exactly what food item had been consumed.

Athletic: You fart at the slightest exertion.

Miserable: You would love to let one out, but you are unable to fart.

Sensitive: You fart and then start crying.
Miserable - I don't fart.
When I fart in bed I always lift the covers a bit just to check the quality and am usually well pleased so I cannot be described as sadistic, perhaps somewhat proud though.

Must admit though that in the past I have been both unfortunate and miserable
A couple of years ago someone gave me half a dozen goose eggs. I had one for brekkers on a Saturday morning and it was almost a meal on its own. At lunchtime I wandered into the Potters arms for a lunchtime session and, after a couple of pints felt the need to let loose. Even I was amazed and actually quite appalled by the scope and scale of the resultant noisomeness. Danny was the first to get it and with a spluttered "jeezuzkrist", he was out of the door and into the car park with the speed of a Bosnian collecting the dole. The bar emptied as, one by one, everyone got a whiff. It was a cloying stench that impregnated clothes and singed nasal hairs. After about 20 minutes everyone trooped back in still whingeing about the residual ordure-like fragrance which lingered. Sniff it up, I told them a good fart is like a host of vitamins dancing in the air. I failed to convince them. Fifteen minutes later I opened the release valve and floated another air biscuit. This one was far worse than the first and the bar rapidly emptied again, with black looks and muttered threats shot in my direction. Rob the landlord came bustling through, stopped dead, turned puce and, holding his nose, demanded "didyoudaethatyerdirtybastardye?". I was gasping for breath through laughing so much and could only nod, tears of mirth rolling down my cheeks. "if ye's dae it agin, ahl bar ye ya durty fucker!" and then "Next time ye dae that, dae it ootside ya cunt, right ootside and awae fer the doorr". With that he switched on the big extractor fan in the top window. Gradually the Saturday afternoon customers came back in, still whingeing. Twenty minutes later I felt the pressure reaching danger point and headed for the door, not wanting to be barred by Rob. I walked out of the door with my pint and round the corner so I could look in the window where the fan was and let rip. Within seconds the bar had erupted with people bailing out rapidly and as I walked back in in they were all walking out. They were talking about stringing me up and even shoving a barrel bung up me arse. Turns out that the fan in the window isn't an extractor, its a blower. I sat in the bar in silence savouring the rich fruity aroma of goose egg fart, with Rob yelling I fucken telt yer I wud bar ye, yer durty fucken twat" from the other bar. I assumed an expression of injured innocence, but he wasn't at all amused. The fact that I was beside myself with laughter didn't help either. I haven't eaten goose egg since that day. Prolly just as well.
I can fart the 1812 Overture ending. The cannons are no problem but the bells ringing out need a fair bit of concentration.
Try this fart tester....

Fart Machine / Fart Sound Board

Childish I know. Erm, mine sound like the letter 'R'..... Yours?
My farts have the ability to turn the LBFM into a Walt.

I fart in bed and she clamps her nose shut with finger and thumb and blocks her mouth with the palm of her hand and in a high pitched squeaky muffled voice says "You durty bassa Doh Mah Mae troi oi stinking durty bassa etc. And, she sounds a bit like the pilot on the old Carling black label advert.

Bomber pilot Walt!


Book Reviewer
What about damned unlucky? You gently release a fart only to find a stream of brown water flowing out of your undies and down your leg. :oops:
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