The joys of farting

Discussion in 'The NAAFI Bar' started by Goku, Jul 14, 2006.

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  1. Last night I had far too much to drink and dinner consisted of peanuts and a Burger King on the train home at approximately 2300, I may also have eaten something with onions judging by the taste left in my mouth this morning.
    They must have all fermented and reacted in my gut because I just can’t stop farting this morning, and each one is a spicy/sweet gem.
    The best bit is they’re stealth farts so I’ve been able to release them without immediately being identified as Mr fragrance.

    Thanks to my amazingly pongy anus I’ve enjoyed my commute into work for the first time ever.
    I catch the tube in every morning, it’s only 4 stops but I feking hate it.
    It’s like being packed into a sardine can with barely enough room to move, yet when the tube is full people still try and force their way on, even to the point of having the doors shutting on them and I always end up with 4 or 5 people squashed up against me breathing down my neck.

    It was the same story this morning.
    I got on the tube and could hardly move, I was squashed in that tight.
    That’s when my guts started to rumble, I tried my best to hold it in and managed to last 1 stop.
    A few people got off the train, enough for me not to have anyone pressed up against me but still crowded enough to annoy me.
    As the doors shut my guts dropped.
    It was a long, slow, silent fart. I almost thought I’d followed through.
    The reaction from the crowed was brilliant.
    People started looking around to see what had died. A few Frenchmen pulled their t-shirts over their nose in a poor attempt to filter the smell. The best bit was that the crowed managed to workout where the smell was coming from and started moving as far from me as they possibly could.
    My anus had virtually cleared the carriage with everyone forcing themselves up against the wall and for the first time in ages I had plenty of breathing space on the tube.
     
  2. another good way of keeping some breathing space round you is to ramble on about Jesus, ritual killing or look at people and talk funny. they soon get the message :D
     
  3. Must admit to clearing 4 zones of a jumbo during maintenance, repeat performance was better as i was in the freight hold and the lighter than air output floated up to the main deck, creating many false accusations amongst those above me. Laughed so much i dropped another stinker. :D :D :D :D
     
  4. TheIronDuke

    TheIronDuke LE Book Reviewer

    Fenwicks department store in Newcastle, mid Dec. 05 and I'm Christmas shopping. I'm cool on the tube. Its a mind game. I'm stuck with a bunch of damp strangers for 20 minutes. Some tosser is going to elbow me in the ribs and people will breath garlic on me. Chill, cool, calm, calm.

    But Christmas frocking shopping? Bah.

    I've done the toys section only tripping over scurrying sprogs twice. I've crawled through electrical goods behind two grazing coffin dodgers, been elbowed many times, had someone ask me when the January sale starts ("Its in August this year Marm") and by the time I get to the special Christmas wrapping counter I'm ready to tear the top off of a milk carton.

    Its one of them taped off isle things, like in banks. And natch, the coffin dodgers are not about to miss the opportunity to tell the sales girls what they have bought for their Grandchildren, thus holding me up.

    Then I feel it. The low down siesmic rumble of the Mother of all Farts.

    The resulting explosion could be heard over Saint James Park and the cloying, oily stench would have sickened an Afghan goat.

    There was absolutely no doubt as to who had unleashed this stinking beast upon an unsuspecting world. The tall guy with his head up and a smile like he had just won the lottery who was beaming at everybody in sight. Pick the bones out of THAT if you will and a merry Christmas to one and all.
     
  5. write a book man yara fecking genius :D (ill spell check it for you)
     

  6. Or wear a pair of shreddies on your head, two pencils up your nose and say "Wibble"
     
  7. It’s a double edged sword gentleman, mark my words!



    Personal research informs me that there is a distinct and clear correlation between a good tangy hoop stretch (the smelly fckers that you mention) and a full-on explosive splash-down….. leaving you with one pair of 'browned' cords and a rather funny gait…

    The smelly ones are great, but they don’t half take a bit of mopping up when you shit all over yourself by accident
     
  8. TheIronDuke

    TheIronDuke LE Book Reviewer

    The ability to shite myself at will is the secret behind my success on crowded tube trains.