most emberassing place you've ever audibly farted
Replies
-
Interesting question....As a 7th grade teacher for many years I have been known to let a silent deadly one go next to my "favorite" student while quietly walking around the class checking work....I know....I'm sick!!!!:)
LOLOL that is soooo messed up and hilarious at the same time.0 -
I have been with my husband for 3 years now and never been much of a audible farter, with the exception of a few times during sleep. He always out does me farting by night and by morning.. so one day as I climb into bed a good 10 minutes into us falling asleep.. BOOOOM!! lol!!! I woke us both up!.. and yea it was a BOOOOOM!!... I didnt know after 32 years a fart could Booom!! I was laughing histariclay while he was disturbed saying things like omg!! you moved the blanket!. or that was a rocket!! like a real rocket!!! which just made me laugh harder... then a few more little farts continued out these ones were more human like but he continued with the comments.. and I finaly said.. awww honey pay backs a B**&$ aint it?.. as I was trying to fall asleep I couldnt help it I kept laughing.. he was like stop!! I need to sleep.. but dang it I swear I had random chuckles for a good hour before I could finaly resign...fast forward to now.. now he laughs about it.. but not that night
!!
Lol super funny! yeah payback is a motha-load!!!0 -
Interesting question....As a 7th grade teacher for many years I have been known to let a silent deadly one go next to my "favorite" student while quietly walking around the class checking work....I know....I'm sick!!!!:)
I'm gonna ask my kid if his teacher has ever smelled like a fart. If he says yes, I'm gonna have her stank azz fired. I'm so sick of how teachers think it's okay to harsh on kids. It's so irresponsible and unprofessional.
Luckily I have the kind of kid who if the teacher did that in front of him, he's cry foul and yell "Ew, Mrs. insert-your-name-here, you farted!" And he has the kind of mom who while in the principal's office would back him up.
As the brother of two teachers that gets to hear about precious little johnny son of a b#tch e.g. your kid I applaud the teacher ninja fart. Also I don't know you but based on your statement I can positively claim that you and I could NEVER be friends.0 -
My wife and I were in the middle of a "good time" and I just couldn't take it anymore so I shot up ran in the bathroom and blew the trumpet for about 30 seconds straight. That pretty much ended that nights fun.0
-
when I was on a Fiber One bar kick, I farted really big and my then 18 month old son started crying..saying "Daddy, she did it again..!"0
-
This is not my story...but I nominate this lady...FTW! Reposted from her site: hahasforhoohas.com/the-fart-that-almost-altered-my-destiny/
Like everything in life, farts have a time and place. However, I never realized that in the wrong time and place, flatulence had enough power to alter my course in history. Well, it can if it's the third date with the man of your dreams. And, if it makes his eyes burn. If God destined us to be together, I was one SBD away from foiling His plans (that's "Silent But Deadly" for you prudes).
It was about five years ago. I was trying to lose a few pounds so I was staying away from carbs. That's when I met my husband, Rob. On our first date, he booked the next two. He liked me. I liked him. Things were looking real good. He picked me up in a Cobra, Mustang and his pathetic attempt to win me over with a car totally worked. I'm not shallow, but since I spent most of my twenties picking men up because I didn't want my hair to frizz in their non-air conditioned jalopies on 3 wheels and a
15 year old spare, I welcomed his fancy sports car with open arms. We arrived at the restaurant and Rob was ordering food I hadn't allowed myself to eat in years. I didn't want to be "that girl" so I ate, drank, and oh, was I merry. Later we shopped a bit. Rob surprised me by buying an expensive pair of shoes that he caught me eyeing. Was this love?
That's when it happened. Gas strikes in two different ways - uncontrollable toots or sharp, shooting pains that feel a lot like dying. I thought I was dying. Not to make a scene, I told Rob I suddenly wasn't feeling well and probably needed to head home. On the way home in his Cobra, he tried to hold my hand and ask me lots of questions, but I wasn't having any of it. The pain was so bad it felt like I was being stabbed with a bunch of tiny forks.
Then I realized ...
My God, help me. I have a horrendous fart on deck. I'm in trouble. Big trouble. The more I held it in, the more pain would shoot through my stomach and down my legs. I was even having to raise myself off the seat, gripping on to my door and the dashboard. "Seriously, you need to hurry - I'm in a lot of pain." I managed to say through gritted teeth.
"Wow, it's that bad? What's wrong? Do I need to take you to a hospital?"
How do you tell a man you just started dating that the reason you're writhing in pain is because you have to fart?
Well, you can either tell him, or like me, let the fart speak for itself.
People, hear me. There was nothing I could do. As impressive as I am with sphincter control, this was out of my hands. Slowly, it eeked out.
The more I tried to stop it, the more it forced it's way through the door. However, to my pleasant surprise, there was no sound. I sat silently, sweat accumulating above my upper lip. Ok, maybe I got away with it. Maybe I'm home free. Then it hit me. Not an idea, a cloud. A horrific, fart cloud.
Not in a, "am I smelling something?" sort of way. More like a "is someone dead and rotting in your trunk and am I in hell?" sort of way.
Suddenly, I panicked. "Roll down the windows!" I screamed (yes, I literally screamed it like I was in a horror movie).
"What? Why?" Rob asked, starting to freak out because I was freaking out.
"I can't roll down the windows, unlock it! UNLOCK IT!"
"What's going on?" Rob yells back to me, "Why are you ..." then it hit him.
I could see it in his eyes. Was it surprise? Horror? Water started to accumulate at the base of his eyelids, "Oh my God, I CAN TASTE IT!" he screamed.
"Roll down the windows!" As I screamed, the toots started to flood out uncontrollably. I scratched and clawed at the window like I was being kidnapped. Rob, unable to see either by fart cloud or panic, kept turning on the windshield wipers instead of unlocking the window.
It was chaos. We were acting like we were under siege by gun fire. We were under siege alright, just not by gun fire.
Finally he was able to hit the right control and he rolled down our windows.
We both gulped in fresh air. I was horrified, yet happy to be alive, then remembered I just farted on the man of dreams, then sorta wished I was dead.
We sat silently for the rest of the way home. Although the shooting pains had subsided, I now desperately needed to use the bathroom, in an urgent, explosive kind of way. He pulled up to my apartment and before he could come to a stop I had already jumped out, "Ok, thanks for dinner, sorry about the fart, love the shoes!" and ran in to my apartment like I was running from the cops.
I burst through my door and ran straight for the bathroom, where I was finally able to unleash and make noises that no one should ever, EVER, hear coming from another person.
Then I heard it. Rob's voice. Right. Outside. My. Bathroom. Door.
"Anna? You left your shoes in my car and your front door was open. Where do you want me to put them?"
"Get away from the door!" I scream like Reagan from The Exorcist. "Ok, I'm sorry. Are you okay?"
*toot* *toot* *splatter* *ungodly noise*
"I'm fine, Rob - just leave the shoes there. I'll call you later okay?"
"Okay, are you sure you're ..."
"I'm fine! Get away from the door!"
This man! I mean, I love him, but take a freakin' hint!
Finally, I heard the front door shut, and the Cobra engine zoom away. I thought that was the last I'd hear from him. I didn't think it was possible to ever see a man again after he screams he can taste your fart after only knowing you for 48 hours. But, to my surprise, I did. A couple days later, actually. Now we're married and he's laying on the couch while I type this ... "It was your rack that saved you," he just lovingly reminded me.
Well, thank you boobs. You saved us. You saved our destiny.
My absolute favorite story by far!!!! And I feel for this lady!!!
My most embarrassing was when I was in fifth grade...I had gas buildup and a cold!!! We all know that doesn't go together at all!!!! Well, I started coughing and coughing. Finally I coughed so hard a couple slipped out. The boy behind me said ewww!!!! You farted!!! Really loudly. Well...I told him, "you try holding them in when you cough that hard!!" He looked at me like I was insane..that I should have been more embarrassed because I was called out on it. I was truly embarrassed but I wasn't going to let him know:blushing: :laugh: :laugh:
I was crying this was so funny. FTW!!!0 -
whoops...
0 -
And being a man - I don't get embarrassed fartingNo. Ladies don't fart. :glasses:
I have a couple of times had to give up a bouldering problem when I've reached my leg over and one's popped out - then start started laughing and been able to finish the climb. The joys of a high protein diet!
Also let a particularly long and audible one go in a fairly busy supermarket walking down an aisle with a friend.
When I turned around to look for a in of something, the woman who it turned out wasn't far behind me gave me look that suggested she was far less amused than we were.
(Obviously a male friend, tend to get chastised in similar situations with female friends.)
Also - yes, I am single, oddly enough; and yes, I am 33 going on 5.0 -
I had a brand new coworker and we shared a VERY small office... it was late in the day, I was totally into what I was working on, and forgot there was another person in this room I was used to being alone in.
I mean, I went for the cheek lift and everything - no sense in letting it get stifled in crappy office chair foam.
We ended up becoming really close friends, and I'm pretty sure it's because I'm so classy.
I think you've just become my new best friend!
When I was a young kid, I was taking a bath with a friend and farted. She puked right in the tub it smelled so bad! Another time I farted in the car with my fiance and he got out and puked! Another time I farted around him and he had to go stick his head in the freezer to keep his eyes from watering. It's like we were meant to be
OMG!! you've made two people puke!!! I
u! I'm laughing so hard I'm doing the Precious Pup laugh...at work...omg I'm so gonna get busted for this... 0 -
middle of class, the whole class heard0
-
I should never have openned this thread - I'm laughing so hard they are going to know Im not actually working. Taxes are not this funny.
Glad I'm not the only one.0 -
The first time sleeping with a guy, I feel asleep naked against him and woke up horrified a few hours later as I farted the loudest ever ON HIS LEG! It must have been a super special fart through, cuz he married me 0
-
Interesting question....As a 7th grade teacher for many years I have been known to let a silent deadly one go next to my "favorite" student while quietly walking around the class checking work....I know....I'm sick!!!!:)
I'm gonna ask my kid if his teacher has ever smelled like a fart. If he says yes, I'm gonna have her stank azz fired. I'm so sick of how teachers think it's okay to harsh on kids. It's so irresponsible and unprofessional.
Luckily I have the kind of kid who if the teacher did that in front of him, he's cry foul and yell "Ew, Mrs. insert-your-name-here, you farted!" And he has the kind of mom who while in the principal's office would back him up.
"I'm gonna have her stank azz fired." Last time I checked, "gonna" is not a word. It should be "I'm going to have her stank (again, not a word) *kitten* fired."
Also, the fact that your kid would announce that the teacher farted shows how classy his parents act at home.0 -
The aisle in Target...worst part? A little kid heard it, hollered it out to his mom, and it smelled. Like, rotten eggs left out in the sun on a 100 degree day smelled.
Even worse? I was proud :sick:
that's too damn funny!0 -
This is one of my greatest fears, and why I won't go for a full-body massage.At the chiropractors office on the massage table
Also terrifying, the thought of farting while getting a pap smear. Has never happened to me, but I still fear it every time!
Kinda like my fear when us dudes go for the ol' prostate check.
That would be pretty understandable. The doc opens the door, so if the dog gets out, who should get the blame? :laugh:0 -
I should never have openned this thread - I'm laughing so hard they are going to know Im not actually working. Taxes are not this funny.
Just say that someone is trying to write off the lingerie they bought for their hooker. Then keep reading!!!0 -
This is not my story...but I nominate this lady...FTW! Reposted from her site: hahasforhoohas.com/the-fart-that-almost-altered-my-destiny/
Like everything in life, farts have a time and place. However, I never realized that in the wrong time and place, flatulence had enough power to alter my course in history. Well, it can if it's the third date with the man of your dreams. And, if it makes his eyes burn. If God destined us to be together, I was one SBD away from foiling His plans (that's "Silent But Deadly" for you prudes).
It was about five years ago. I was trying to lose a few pounds so I was staying away from carbs. That's when I met my husband, Rob. On our first date, he booked the next two. He liked me. I liked him. Things were looking real good. He picked me up in a Cobra, Mustang and his pathetic attempt to win me over with a car totally worked. I'm not shallow, but since I spent most of my twenties picking men up because I didn't want my hair to frizz in their non-air conditioned jalopies on 3 wheels and a
15 year old spare, I welcomed his fancy sports car with open arms. We arrived at the restaurant and Rob was ordering food I hadn't allowed myself to eat in years. I didn't want to be "that girl" so I ate, drank, and oh, was I merry. Later we shopped a bit. Rob surprised me by buying an expensive pair of shoes that he caught me eyeing. Was this love?
That's when it happened. Gas strikes in two different ways - uncontrollable toots or sharp, shooting pains that feel a lot like dying. I thought I was dying. Not to make a scene, I told Rob I suddenly wasn't feeling well and probably needed to head home. On the way home in his Cobra, he tried to hold my hand and ask me lots of questions, but I wasn't having any of it. The pain was so bad it felt like I was being stabbed with a bunch of tiny forks.
Then I realized ...
My God, help me. I have a horrendous fart on deck. I'm in trouble. Big trouble. The more I held it in, the more pain would shoot through my stomach and down my legs. I was even having to raise myself off the seat, gripping on to my door and the dashboard. "Seriously, you need to hurry - I'm in a lot of pain." I managed to say through gritted teeth.
"Wow, it's that bad? What's wrong? Do I need to take you to a hospital?"
How do you tell a man you just started dating that the reason you're writhing in pain is because you have to fart?
Well, you can either tell him, or like me, let the fart speak for itself.
People, hear me. There was nothing I could do. As impressive as I am with sphincter control, this was out of my hands. Slowly, it eeked out.
The more I tried to stop it, the more it forced it's way through the door. However, to my pleasant surprise, there was no sound. I sat silently, sweat accumulating above my upper lip. Ok, maybe I got away with it. Maybe I'm home free. Then it hit me. Not an idea, a cloud. A horrific, fart cloud.
Not in a, "am I smelling something?" sort of way. More like a "is someone dead and rotting in your trunk and am I in hell?" sort of way.
Suddenly, I panicked. "Roll down the windows!" I screamed (yes, I literally screamed it like I was in a horror movie).
"What? Why?" Rob asked, starting to freak out because I was freaking out.
"I can't roll down the windows, unlock it! UNLOCK IT!"
"What's going on?" Rob yells back to me, "Why are you ..." then it hit him.
I could see it in his eyes. Was it surprise? Horror? Water started to accumulate at the base of his eyelids, "Oh my God, I CAN TASTE IT!" he screamed.
"Roll down the windows!" As I screamed, the toots started to flood out uncontrollably. I scratched and clawed at the window like I was being kidnapped. Rob, unable to see either by fart cloud or panic, kept turning on the windshield wipers instead of unlocking the window.
It was chaos. We were acting like we were under siege by gun fire. We were under siege alright, just not by gun fire.
Finally he was able to hit the right control and he rolled down our windows.
We both gulped in fresh air. I was horrified, yet happy to be alive, then remembered I just farted on the man of dreams, then sorta wished I was dead.
We sat silently for the rest of the way home. Although the shooting pains had subsided, I now desperately needed to use the bathroom, in an urgent, explosive kind of way. He pulled up to my apartment and before he could come to a stop I had already jumped out, "Ok, thanks for dinner, sorry about the fart, love the shoes!" and ran in to my apartment like I was running from the cops.
I burst through my door and ran straight for the bathroom, where I was finally able to unleash and make noises that no one should ever, EVER, hear coming from another person.
Then I heard it. Rob's voice. Right. Outside. My. Bathroom. Door.
"Anna? You left your shoes in my car and your front door was open. Where do you want me to put them?"
"Get away from the door!" I scream like Reagan from The Exorcist. "Ok, I'm sorry. Are you okay?"
*toot* *toot* *splatter* *ungodly noise*
"I'm fine, Rob - just leave the shoes there. I'll call you later okay?"
"Okay, are you sure you're ..."
"I'm fine! Get away from the door!"
This man! I mean, I love him, but take a freakin' hint!
Finally, I heard the front door shut, and the Cobra engine zoom away. I thought that was the last I'd hear from him. I didn't think it was possible to ever see a man again after he screams he can taste your fart after only knowing you for 48 hours. But, to my surprise, I did. A couple days later, actually. Now we're married and he's laying on the couch while I type this ... "It was your rack that saved you," he just lovingly reminded me.
Well, thank you boobs. You saved us. You saved our destiny.
My absolute favorite story by far!!!! And I feel for this lady!!!
My most embarrassing was when I was in fifth grade...I had gas buildup and a cold!!! We all know that doesn't go together at all!!!! Well, I started coughing and coughing. Finally I coughed so hard a couple slipped out. The boy behind me said ewww!!!! You farted!!! Really loudly. Well...I told him, "you try holding them in when you cough that hard!!" He looked at me like I was insane..that I should have been more embarrassed because I was called out on it. I was truly embarrassed but I wasn't going to let him know:blushing: :laugh: :laugh:
I was crying this was so funny. FTW!!!
OMG!! that story..so lovingly told...I don't think I'll ever be the same...seriously...I was laughing so hard I just farted..dear god.
okay, so my funny story is this...back toward the beginning of my relationship with my bf, we were having sex when he farted...He's a big guy, hot, muscular and totally alpha...he said, "oops" then started giggling...I mean freaking giggling!!! I lost it...couldn't stop laughing. Sort of had to start what we were doing over again a little later. I didn't really think I'd ever hear him giggle like a girl..sheez. 0 -
when I was on a Fiber One bar kick, I farted really big and my then 18 month old son started crying..saying "Daddy, she did it again..!"
ROFL.....awwww!!!
It wasn't me (really I promise), but when I was a teenager our church was having our Christmas Eve service where everyone lights a candle for someone they love and are praying for. By the end of it the whole front of the church is lit up. Anyway, my aunt was sitting in the front row and during the quiet moment when people are up at the front lighting their candles, she seriously lifted one cheek and let it go. Not sure if she even remembers it - we were mortified, but laugh about it to this day.0 -
I know this prob not get read but to good to not post. To start my oldest daughter boyfriend was always over and tired of holding them i developed the cough and cover. I told my mom of this, explained the noise of the fake loud cough covered any sound,"im a genuis". So some time later my mom put my plan in play for heself.... My mom was an aid in a class for problem kids pre gangster types, so while in circle time on the floor sharing feelings and such she implimented the tactic only to have the entire floor vibrate because the class was a trailer type building. Lets just say everyone knew and where it came from. At the end of the year when the students were asked about what they remember most about the year all but 1 included Miss Donna farting:0) Man I love my mom.0
-
When I was in the Navy, we had to do these fit tests every 6 months. So we were all in a gym doing a sit-up test. I didn't even realize i had bubble guts, but as I laid on the floor in between my sit-up I sneezed and farted at the same time right in this girls face. Unfortunately there were about 6 guys who I work with to the left and right of me who heard the whole thing. We all looked at each other and started to laugh so hard we ended up being kicked out!! I couldn't look those guys in the eye, they called me "Snarter" for the longest time!!0
-
This is not my story...but I nominate this lady...FTW! Reposted from her site: hahasforhoohas.com/the-fart-that-almost-altered-my-destiny/
Like everything in life, farts have a time and place. However, I never realized that in the wrong time and place, flatulence had enough power to alter my course in history. Well, it can if it's the third date with the man of your dreams. And, if it makes his eyes burn. If God destined us to be together, I was one SBD away from foiling His plans (that's "Silent But Deadly" for you prudes).
It was about five years ago. I was trying to lose a few pounds so I was staying away from carbs. That's when I met my husband, Rob. On our first date, he booked the next two. He liked me. I liked him. Things were looking real good. He picked me up in a Cobra, Mustang and his pathetic attempt to win me over with a car totally worked. I'm not shallow, but since I spent most of my twenties picking men up because I didn't want my hair to frizz in their non-air conditioned jalopies on 3 wheels and a
15 year old spare, I welcomed his fancy sports car with open arms. We arrived at the restaurant and Rob was ordering food I hadn't allowed myself to eat in years. I didn't want to be "that girl" so I ate, drank, and oh, was I merry. Later we shopped a bit. Rob surprised me by buying an expensive pair of shoes that he caught me eyeing. Was this love?
That's when it happened. Gas strikes in two different ways - uncontrollable toots or sharp, shooting pains that feel a lot like dying. I thought I was dying. Not to make a scene, I told Rob I suddenly wasn't feeling well and probably needed to head home. On the way home in his Cobra, he tried to hold my hand and ask me lots of questions, but I wasn't having any of it. The pain was so bad it felt like I was being stabbed with a bunch of tiny forks.
Then I realized ...
My God, help me. I have a horrendous fart on deck. I'm in trouble. Big trouble. The more I held it in, the more pain would shoot through my stomach and down my legs. I was even having to raise myself off the seat, gripping on to my door and the dashboard. "Seriously, you need to hurry - I'm in a lot of pain." I managed to say through gritted teeth.
"Wow, it's that bad? What's wrong? Do I need to take you to a hospital?"
How do you tell a man you just started dating that the reason you're writhing in pain is because you have to fart?
Well, you can either tell him, or like me, let the fart speak for itself.
People, hear me. There was nothing I could do. As impressive as I am with sphincter control, this was out of my hands. Slowly, it eeked out.
The more I tried to stop it, the more it forced it's way through the door. However, to my pleasant surprise, there was no sound. I sat silently, sweat accumulating above my upper lip. Ok, maybe I got away with it. Maybe I'm home free. Then it hit me. Not an idea, a cloud. A horrific, fart cloud.
Not in a, "am I smelling something?" sort of way. More like a "is someone dead and rotting in your trunk and am I in hell?" sort of way.
Suddenly, I panicked. "Roll down the windows!" I screamed (yes, I literally screamed it like I was in a horror movie).
"What? Why?" Rob asked, starting to freak out because I was freaking out.
"I can't roll down the windows, unlock it! UNLOCK IT!"
"What's going on?" Rob yells back to me, "Why are you ..." then it hit him.
I could see it in his eyes. Was it surprise? Horror? Water started to accumulate at the base of his eyelids, "Oh my God, I CAN TASTE IT!" he screamed.
"Roll down the windows!" As I screamed, the toots started to flood out uncontrollably. I scratched and clawed at the window like I was being kidnapped. Rob, unable to see either by fart cloud or panic, kept turning on the windshield wipers instead of unlocking the window.
It was chaos. We were acting like we were under siege by gun fire. We were under siege alright, just not by gun fire.
Finally he was able to hit the right control and he rolled down our windows.
We both gulped in fresh air. I was horrified, yet happy to be alive, then remembered I just farted on the man of dreams, then sorta wished I was dead.
We sat silently for the rest of the way home. Although the shooting pains had subsided, I now desperately needed to use the bathroom, in an urgent, explosive kind of way. He pulled up to my apartment and before he could come to a stop I had already jumped out, "Ok, thanks for dinner, sorry about the fart, love the shoes!" and ran in to my apartment like I was running from the cops.
I burst through my door and ran straight for the bathroom, where I was finally able to unleash and make noises that no one should ever, EVER, hear coming from another person.
Then I heard it. Rob's voice. Right. Outside. My. Bathroom. Door.
"Anna? You left your shoes in my car and your front door was open. Where do you want me to put them?"
"Get away from the door!" I scream like Reagan from The Exorcist. "Ok, I'm sorry. Are you okay?"
*toot* *toot* *splatter* *ungodly noise*
"I'm fine, Rob - just leave the shoes there. I'll call you later okay?"
"Okay, are you sure you're ..."
"I'm fine! Get away from the door!"
This man! I mean, I love him, but take a freakin' hint!
Finally, I heard the front door shut, and the Cobra engine zoom away. I thought that was the last I'd hear from him. I didn't think it was possible to ever see a man again after he screams he can taste your fart after only knowing you for 48 hours. But, to my surprise, I did. A couple days later, actually. Now we're married and he's laying on the couch while I type this ... "It was your rack that saved you," he just lovingly reminded me.
Well, thank you boobs. You saved us. You saved our destiny.
This was A-mazing. I don't think my husband could've survived that one.0 -
But to the original question, mine was during Married Fun-Time....While my husband was paying special attention to my...ahem! lady business...in an up-close and personal manner...if you get my drift...cuz he sure caught mine! :laugh: :laugh: :laugh: :laugh:
hahahahahahaa:laugh: :laugh: :laugh: :laugh: :laugh: :laugh: :laugh:0 -
chiropractor0
-
This is not my story...but I nominate this lady...FTW! Reposted from her site: hahasforhoohas.com/the-fart-that-almost-altered-my-destiny/
Like everything in life, farts have a time and place. However, I never realized that in the wrong time and place, flatulence had enough power to alter my course in history. Well, it can if it's the third date with the man of your dreams. And, if it makes his eyes burn. If God destined us to be together, I was one SBD away from foiling His plans (that's "Silent But Deadly" for you prudes).
It was about five years ago. I was trying to lose a few pounds so I was staying away from carbs. That's when I met my husband, Rob. On our first date, he booked the next two. He liked me. I liked him. Things were looking real good. He picked me up in a Cobra, Mustang and his pathetic attempt to win me over with a car totally worked. I'm not shallow, but since I spent most of my twenties picking men up because I didn't want my hair to frizz in their non-air conditioned jalopies on 3 wheels and a
15 year old spare, I welcomed his fancy sports car with open arms. We arrived at the restaurant and Rob was ordering food I hadn't allowed myself to eat in years. I didn't want to be "that girl" so I ate, drank, and oh, was I merry. Later we shopped a bit. Rob surprised me by buying an expensive pair of shoes that he caught me eyeing. Was this love?
That's when it happened. Gas strikes in two different ways - uncontrollable toots or sharp, shooting pains that feel a lot like dying. I thought I was dying. Not to make a scene, I told Rob I suddenly wasn't feeling well and probably needed to head home. On the way home in his Cobra, he tried to hold my hand and ask me lots of questions, but I wasn't having any of it. The pain was so bad it felt like I was being stabbed with a bunch of tiny forks.
Then I realized ...
My God, help me. I have a horrendous fart on deck. I'm in trouble. Big trouble. The more I held it in, the more pain would shoot through my stomach and down my legs. I was even having to raise myself off the seat, gripping on to my door and the dashboard. "Seriously, you need to hurry - I'm in a lot of pain." I managed to say through gritted teeth.
"Wow, it's that bad? What's wrong? Do I need to take you to a hospital?"
How do you tell a man you just started dating that the reason you're writhing in pain is because you have to fart?
Well, you can either tell him, or like me, let the fart speak for itself.
People, hear me. There was nothing I could do. As impressive as I am with sphincter control, this was out of my hands. Slowly, it eeked out.
The more I tried to stop it, the more it forced it's way through the door. However, to my pleasant surprise, there was no sound. I sat silently, sweat accumulating above my upper lip. Ok, maybe I got away with it. Maybe I'm home free. Then it hit me. Not an idea, a cloud. A horrific, fart cloud.
Not in a, "am I smelling something?" sort of way. More like a "is someone dead and rotting in your trunk and am I in hell?" sort of way.
Suddenly, I panicked. "Roll down the windows!" I screamed (yes, I literally screamed it like I was in a horror movie).
"What? Why?" Rob asked, starting to freak out because I was freaking out.
"I can't roll down the windows, unlock it! UNLOCK IT!"
"What's going on?" Rob yells back to me, "Why are you ..." then it hit him.
I could see it in his eyes. Was it surprise? Horror? Water started to accumulate at the base of his eyelids, "Oh my God, I CAN TASTE IT!" he screamed.
"Roll down the windows!" As I screamed, the toots started to flood out uncontrollably. I scratched and clawed at the window like I was being kidnapped. Rob, unable to see either by fart cloud or panic, kept turning on the windshield wipers instead of unlocking the window.
It was chaos. We were acting like we were under siege by gun fire. We were under siege alright, just not by gun fire.
Finally he was able to hit the right control and he rolled down our windows.
We both gulped in fresh air. I was horrified, yet happy to be alive, then remembered I just farted on the man of dreams, then sorta wished I was dead.
We sat silently for the rest of the way home. Although the shooting pains had subsided, I now desperately needed to use the bathroom, in an urgent, explosive kind of way. He pulled up to my apartment and before he could come to a stop I had already jumped out, "Ok, thanks for dinner, sorry about the fart, love the shoes!" and ran in to my apartment like I was running from the cops.
I burst through my door and ran straight for the bathroom, where I was finally able to unleash and make noises that no one should ever, EVER, hear coming from another person.
Then I heard it. Rob's voice. Right. Outside. My. Bathroom. Door.
"Anna? You left your shoes in my car and your front door was open. Where do you want me to put them?"
"Get away from the door!" I scream like Reagan from The Exorcist. "Ok, I'm sorry. Are you okay?"
*toot* *toot* *splatter* *ungodly noise*
"I'm fine, Rob - just leave the shoes there. I'll call you later okay?"
"Okay, are you sure you're ..."
"I'm fine! Get away from the door!"
This man! I mean, I love him, but take a freakin' hint!
Finally, I heard the front door shut, and the Cobra engine zoom away. I thought that was the last I'd hear from him. I didn't think it was possible to ever see a man again after he screams he can taste your fart after only knowing you for 48 hours. But, to my surprise, I did. A couple days later, actually. Now we're married and he's laying on the couch while I type this ... "It was your rack that saved you," he just lovingly reminded me.
Well, thank you boobs. You saved us. You saved our destiny.
My absolute favorite story by far!!!! And I feel for this lady!!!
My most embarrassing was when I was in fifth grade...I had gas buildup and a cold!!! We all know that doesn't go together at all!!!! Well, I started coughing and coughing. Finally I coughed so hard a couple slipped out. The boy behind me said ewww!!!! You farted!!! Really loudly. Well...I told him, "you try holding them in when you cough that hard!!" He looked at me like I was insane..that I should have been more embarrassed because I was called out on it. I was truly embarrassed but I wasn't going to let him know:blushing: :laugh: :laugh:
I was crying this was so funny. FTW!!!
I am sitting at my desk.... tears rolling down my face ... and laughing like crazy .... thanks for a super Thursday morning!!!0 -
Oh, and by the way, TEACHERS are NOT in classes to teach YOUR CHILD "manners and respect, etc.". They are there to teach classes. It is the PARENTS who teach manners. It is the PARENTS who teach respect. If YOU don't do that, there is NOTHING a teacher can do to make it happen FOR you. So teach your own child manners. Teach your own child to respect others and themselves. You'll be doing him or her a favor. After all, most teachers see a child between 4 and 8 hours a week for about 36 weeks. That is a total of 134 to 268 hours a YEAR and if you count ALL the time the kid spends in school, that comes up to only 1260 hours. The other 7,506 hours belong to YOU, hon. No way any teacher or group of teachers can compete with that or make a difference in what a kid learns by example in the 86% of time you have him/her in your control.
Teachers can encourage and cajole, but they can't do something you don't do first... with all due respect.
[/quote]
If I could start a standing ovation for this . . . I would. I you
[/quote]
Agreed!!
There are parents out there that think it's the teacher's job to teach their child everything about life.
I applaud all teachers... I have seen how children can be and how their parents think that their child is a sweet angel.0 -
Laughing my *kitten* off and like most of the readers have tears running down my face....
now you yeah you --- come here pull my finger :happy:0 -
In karate class, after we warm up and stretch a bit, we sit in a line and meditate. Complete silence, and everyone is supposed to be super serious. Well, after waking up my body I'm ALWAYS a little gassy, but mostly it's just silent and odorless. Recently I had eaten a burrito later than normal, not long before class. We were sitting in line, on our knees, in a gym, silently trying to find "inner calm." And suddenly, without any warning at all, I let out a HUGE one. It reverberated in the gym, and stank horribly, and the whole line dissolved into helpless laughter. Needless to say, were were all given twenty pushups for laughing in line.0
-
This is not my story...but I nominate this lady...FTW! Reposted from her site: hahasforhoohas.com/the-fart-that-almost-altered-my-destiny/
Like everything in life, farts have a time and place. However, I never realized that in the wrong time and place, flatulence had enough power to alter my course in history. Well, it can if it's the third date with the man of your dreams. And, if it makes his eyes burn. If God destined us to be together, I was one SBD away from foiling His plans (that's "Silent But Deadly" for you prudes).
It was about five years ago. I was trying to lose a few pounds so I was staying away from carbs. That's when I met my husband, Rob. On our first date, he booked the next two. He liked me. I liked him. Things were looking real good. He picked me up in a Cobra, Mustang and his pathetic attempt to win me over with a car totally worked. I'm not shallow, but since I spent most of my twenties picking men up because I didn't want my hair to frizz in their non-air conditioned jalopies on 3 wheels and a
15 year old spare, I welcomed his fancy sports car with open arms. We arrived at the restaurant and Rob was ordering food I hadn't allowed myself to eat in years. I didn't want to be "that girl" so I ate, drank, and oh, was I merry. Later we shopped a bit. Rob surprised me by buying an expensive pair of shoes that he caught me eyeing. Was this love?
That's when it happened. Gas strikes in two different ways - uncontrollable toots or sharp, shooting pains that feel a lot like dying. I thought I was dying. Not to make a scene, I told Rob I suddenly wasn't feeling well and probably needed to head home. On the way home in his Cobra, he tried to hold my hand and ask me lots of questions, but I wasn't having any of it. The pain was so bad it felt like I was being stabbed with a bunch of tiny forks.
Then I realized ...
My God, help me. I have a horrendous fart on deck. I'm in trouble. Big trouble. The more I held it in, the more pain would shoot through my stomach and down my legs. I was even having to raise myself off the seat, gripping on to my door and the dashboard. "Seriously, you need to hurry - I'm in a lot of pain." I managed to say through gritted teeth.
"Wow, it's that bad? What's wrong? Do I need to take you to a hospital?"
How do you tell a man you just started dating that the reason you're writhing in pain is because you have to fart?
Well, you can either tell him, or like me, let the fart speak for itself.
People, hear me. There was nothing I could do. As impressive as I am with sphincter control, this was out of my hands. Slowly, it eeked out.
The more I tried to stop it, the more it forced it's way through the door. However, to my pleasant surprise, there was no sound. I sat silently, sweat accumulating above my upper lip. Ok, maybe I got away with it. Maybe I'm home free. Then it hit me. Not an idea, a cloud. A horrific, fart cloud.
Not in a, "am I smelling something?" sort of way. More like a "is someone dead and rotting in your trunk and am I in hell?" sort of way.
Suddenly, I panicked. "Roll down the windows!" I screamed (yes, I literally screamed it like I was in a horror movie).
"What? Why?" Rob asked, starting to freak out because I was freaking out.
"I can't roll down the windows, unlock it! UNLOCK IT!"
"What's going on?" Rob yells back to me, "Why are you ..." then it hit him.
I could see it in his eyes. Was it surprise? Horror? Water started to accumulate at the base of his eyelids, "Oh my God, I CAN TASTE IT!" he screamed.
"Roll down the windows!" As I screamed, the toots started to flood out uncontrollably. I scratched and clawed at the window like I was being kidnapped. Rob, unable to see either by fart cloud or panic, kept turning on the windshield wipers instead of unlocking the window.
It was chaos. We were acting like we were under siege by gun fire. We were under siege alright, just not by gun fire.
Finally he was able to hit the right control and he rolled down our windows.
We both gulped in fresh air. I was horrified, yet happy to be alive, then remembered I just farted on the man of dreams, then sorta wished I was dead.
We sat silently for the rest of the way home. Although the shooting pains had subsided, I now desperately needed to use the bathroom, in an urgent, explosive kind of way. He pulled up to my apartment and before he could come to a stop I had already jumped out, "Ok, thanks for dinner, sorry about the fart, love the shoes!" and ran in to my apartment like I was running from the cops.
I burst through my door and ran straight for the bathroom, where I was finally able to unleash and make noises that no one should ever, EVER, hear coming from another person.
Then I heard it. Rob's voice. Right. Outside. My. Bathroom. Door.
"Anna? You left your shoes in my car and your front door was open. Where do you want me to put them?"
"Get away from the door!" I scream like Reagan from The Exorcist. "Ok, I'm sorry. Are you okay?"
*toot* *toot* *splatter* *ungodly noise*
"I'm fine, Rob - just leave the shoes there. I'll call you later okay?"
"Okay, are you sure you're ..."
"I'm fine! Get away from the door!"
This man! I mean, I love him, but take a freakin' hint!
Finally, I heard the front door shut, and the Cobra engine zoom away. I thought that was the last I'd hear from him. I didn't think it was possible to ever see a man again after he screams he can taste your fart after only knowing you for 48 hours. But, to my surprise, I did. A couple days later, actually. Now we're married and he's laying on the couch while I type this ... "It was your rack that saved you," he just lovingly reminded me.
Well, thank you boobs. You saved us. You saved our destiny.
This was A-mazing. I don't think my husband could've survived that one.
Oh my god... I just laughed so freaking hard, I'm crying! Sitting in my college's public library, surrounded by like 50 people, most of them staring at the fat girl who can't laugh quietly....Crying and laughing. Pretty sure the librarian is coming this way to ask me to leave but god, that made my day.0 -
I went to a chiropractor and as he was adjusting my back, I cut a fart. I was so embarassed. I don't know how many times I apologized to him, but he laughed it off and said it happens more often than you believe (find it hard to believe)0
-
I should never have openned this thread - I'm laughing so hard they are going to know Im not actually working. Taxes are not this funny.
Exactly where I'm at, brah... The price of tiles is suddenly hilarious >>
Mine wasn't so much audible as....completely rank. I was in an adult store with my friend and there was a dude in there, right near us when it slipped out. The creepy thing was, he was waiting for us in his truck when we came out, trying to talk to us
0
Categories
- All Categories
- 1.4M Health, Wellness and Goals
- 393.4K Introduce Yourself
- 43.8K Getting Started
- 260.2K Health and Weight Loss
- 175.9K Food and Nutrition
- 47.4K Recipes
- 232.5K Fitness and Exercise
- 427 Sleep, Mindfulness and Overall Wellness
- 6.5K Goal: Maintaining Weight
- 8.5K Goal: Gaining Weight and Body Building
- 153K Motivation and Support
- 8K Challenges
- 1.3K Debate Club
- 96.3K Chit-Chat
- 2.5K Fun and Games
- 3.7K MyFitnessPal Information
- 24 News and Announcements
- 1.1K Feature Suggestions and Ideas
- 2.6K MyFitnessPal Tech Support Questions