Flatulence in embarressing situations...

Discussion in 'The NAAFI Bar' started by reassuringly_badgers, Jul 16, 2005.

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  1. We all get it. The steady build-up of pressure in the colon just while you're in that oh-so-important meeting or just as your hand happens to "slip" up the skirt of that oh-so-fit girl you've just met at the bar.

    I'll stress here that it happens to the best of us. Partly because I don't want to seem like fungal growth that has an uncontainable farting problem and partly because I want your stories too...

    My worst was at RCB.

    A young Badger made the fatalistic error in the days beforehand of consuming vast amounts of Vindaloo that would put an Indian Cabbie to shame. It was a mate's stag do, two days before the Board and (I thought) a safe buffer zone of a day's recovery was sufficient to return me to normality. He was crossing the thin-red-line that demarcates those shackled to a single vagina for the rest of their life and those free to pokey pokey around in anything with two legs. I couldn't let him down and leave him to strut into marital happiness-or-otherwise without the traditional last hurrah and huzzah to batchelordom.

    The Asiatic amounts of curry coupled with a true British leathering left my alimentary canal in resplendant glory. My starfish happily chanting, "look at me! I'm big and brown and dribbling!"

    I got quite worried as the pebbledashing failed to clear up and my gut continued to rumble like the Osaki earthquake. I squeezed out every last drop of shat in me until my vains popped out and and my face went purple trying to flush the system. But the fecking stuff fills up the back-passage as fast as snot comes back after you blow your nose...

    I stepped of the train at Westbury, re-arranged my nadgers, and subtly pokeyed meself to note nothing worse than a lightly damp crack. Good so far.

    The Board started well. No Negligent Discharge but then I felt the brewings of a Hurricane Roger coming. The pressurized gas began to tap away at my hoop as I sqeezed with all my might to stop a jarring fart ripping through the Senior-blokey's welcoming address.

    The leadership exersises were good. They allowed me to quietly drop gas without notice.

    Then the interviews.

    The colonel's were nice chaps. Don't know what they thought of me. I tried every method in the book and out of the book to keep my gases where they were. I sat with a finger up my arrse. (Thank god for the table that stopped them seeing the locale of my hand). I squeezed my legs together. I leant forwards. I leant backwards. All the while I had to keep my senses and respond to the innane dribble they were asking me.

    It was no use. I couldn't keep it up forever. I did my damned utmost to dampen the sound but it came out in a low-pitched squeal. A strategical coughing fit cunningly drew their attention away from the green sulphuric cloud swirling around my suit-trousers.

    Colonel Number 1 gave a knowing flicker of a smile, then carried on. I never did find out if they realised. They must have done afterwards when diffusion played it's part in relaying my crime to their noses...

    So. Your experiences please? How many times have you let rip while straddling a hot new date? [Guilty]
     
  2. I've certainly never let rip whilst bumping uglies with a new hot date. Having a new hot date was such a rareity in my youth that i made sure i ate sensibly before hand.

    I recently attended an annual meeting of a forum i'm a member of. I was sat at the corner of the conference room, which had a push button exit system, which i was sat closest to. I'd had a bit of a skinful the night before, and my guts and bowel were slightly tender.

    Somebody knocked at the door, and being closest to the button i leant over to buzz them in. The strain on my muscles and bowel in their tender state was too much, and the sound that left my buttocks i can only describe as similar to a skeleton wnaking in a biscuit tin.

    I turned back to the table, looked at my fellow attendees and uttered the only words one can in this situation "Better out than in".

    I look forward to seeing if i am invited back next year.

    Boney
     
  3. No such thing Be Loud Be Proud and if they hang around name them but FFS don't ever be embarressed after all you went through the pains of spawning it :D
     
  4. True. In most situations gaseous exchange is something to enjoy, to exaggerate and be proud of.

    But. My whole career-to-be flashed before my eyes as I saw my forms being stamped, UNACCEPTABLE - FARTED DURING INTERVIEWS.

    Amazingly, I got in! :lol: