nullzero wrote: » On a flight to Spain last year with my girlfriend I had an awful gutful of pewtrid foulness that I expended over the duration of the two hours or so of the flight. There was however a young Spanish lad sitting in front of us who had the entire row of seats to himself. He was sleeping and waking up, shifting around akwardly. Needless to say I was blaming the stench on this unfortunate person whilst managing to keep a straight face the whole way over. I lost count of how many I ripped out on that flight but I pity whoever sat in the seat after me. When we got home to Dublin, whilst we were driving home I asked herself if she remebered that dirty Spanish bastard from the flight over and then broke the truth to her. She genuinely looked shocked and appalled although she said had a sneaking suspicion it was me all along. How I laughed.
Ricardo G wrote: » Ahh school days, belting a good fart off the back of those black plastic chairs and watching the foundations shake with the echo ! Great also at 30,000 feet on a plane, no way anyone can escape ! Whilst walking around a very warm shop with herself, laughing at everyone else nearly choking after you leave out the deadly silent one !
FlutterinBantam wrote: » Tom, that was an excellent post,conveys the drama of the occasion and leads the reader to emphatise with the poster. When you can read and say":eek:Thank fcuk that wasn't me" it was a good post. Now down to business. "Fouled the bowl" I like that description but what does it mean.? That you coated the pan in a skein of wet midden from rim to S? "That you dumped a knarled knobbly lad which settled uncomfortably in the S? "That you bolted out a ripper like a fcuking flock of starlings and scudded the pan and the area surrounding"? That you bunted out Meatloaf's daughter which lodged like a dead corgi dog in the S"? Clear that up and we're good:D
Fulton Crown wrote: » Yeah ..was behind a fcukin bearded crusty in the q for a sarni in O'briens the other day. Cnunt had a pair of dung colored courdoroys ...saggy at the arse and material to spare if you get my drift. Cnunt had just ordered a veggie roll and tap water..when i heard a low gutteral growl coming from nearby. Thought little of it at the time but just as I was about to give my order a fcukin pure sulpherous toxic stench enveloped the fcukin queue. I couldnt fcukin give my order and the guy at the counter was gaggin as well...fcukin queue dissapeared and dung trousers blithley trotted off with his veggie roll to a nearby table. saw a few folks nearby evacuate sharpish and reckoned the cnunt had dropped another one. Should be a fcukin law agaisnt that kind of thing...:eek:
Deus Ex Machina wrote: » As a rule I despise toilet humour, and this subject is no exception. I will, however, make two statements on the matter. Firstly, anyone who states that they find the smell of their own flatus disgusting is lying. Nobody has any problem with the smell of their own flatus, anyone who claims that they do is one of those people who feigns disgust at anything less than pristine in order to create the impression that they are themselves squeaky clean in each and every respect. Read: When somebody says "ewww that stinks" in reference to their own flatus, they are really thinking "mmmm jaysus the turnips are really coming through in that one". (The usual tone in which their internal monologue is conducted notwithstanding, sentiments such as those mentioned above are always expressed to one's own consciousness in the voice of a inner city Dublin truck driver.) Secondly, I rate most of my flatuses with Top Gear car review criteria. The smell is analogous to the performance of the vehicle, so a really smelly flatus is a 0-60 time of 3.2 seconds or so, and a top speed in excess of 200 mph. The sound of the flatus is compared to, unsurprisingly, the sound of the car. Again, a loud explosive sound is similar to the W 16 skirl of the Bugatti Veyron. The way the flatus feels as it leaves the anus is comparable to the handling of the car, so a flatus which feels awesome as it leaves the anus would be like a Lotus Exige, corning like housefly, in the words of Jeremy Clarkson. The final, and ineffable, criterion is the way the expulsion of the flatus makes me feel. A flatus expulsion which thrills me is like an Alfa Romeo, no one thing is spectacular, but there is a certain passion and soul to the vehicle. Once I have tallied flatus' performance in all areas I make up a car which possess the analogous properties and then have Jeremy test it in my head. The weird thing about all this is that I really am not a Top Gear fan.
dubtom wrote: » For some reason yesterday I let go some of the foulest rippers I've ever had the displeasure of smelling. I'm unsure whether it was Sundays cabbage and marrows,or the crusty brown role with banana of yesterday that cause the offensive aroma, but by jasus it was bad. It's usually a proud moment for me when I make my Wife gag, but yesterdays episodes made me wince. Three times I visited the bog last night and each time I fouled the bowl, but it still wasn't enough to unclog whatever rat had crawled up there and died, even with the light on and window open daddylonglegs wouldn't even venture in after me, it was only today when I returned from work early so I could concentrate undisturbed did I manage to unhinge the cnut. Unfortunately proud I am not,a little empty perhaps,but not proud.
kfallon wrote: » We all know of Patricia The Stripper, She was fond of unleashing a ripper, Once stripped off her 'string', Oh the horrible thing, Left a queef go that stank like a kipper!
orourkeda wrote: » Isnt it amazing that gas expelled from ones anus that smells like sh*t can cause such hilarity
