October 16, 2008
One time when I was a sophomore or junior in high school, I had a memorable farting experience. At that age, I had never pooped in school. Heck, I don’t think I had ever pooped away from home. I had a major fear of pooping in a non-home setting.
One day, I was having quite a problem with stomach pains. I was used to having gas and holding it in because I ate Raisin Bran for breakfast. But this intense pain in my gut was more than just gas. It was nearing the end of the day and I still had soccer practice to attend, so I realized I would need to poop at school to get rid of the problem.
But I couldn’t just go into the bathroom and poop. Someone would see me, hear me, and probably smell me. The perceived embarrassment would be mortifying. So I waited until the last class ended and waited some more until most of the people cleared out of the halls and got on their buses. I went to a bathroom that likely didn’t have many people around and went in to do my business.
What happened in that bathroom that day was unforgettable. I went into a stall, pulled down my pants, sat on the toilet, and prepared to let loose. The pain in my stomach was constant, so I was anxious to take a nice big fat dump. I started to push, but instead of having a solid log slide out of me and into the toilet, I produced the loudest sound that has ever come from a human body. This fart was loud. The concrete walls and metal stall doors only increased the volume. I laughed at myself, at my amazing ability, yet quietly wondered if anyone had heard me. No voices in the hall. Whew. It was just me, alone in a stall in a high school bathroom, laughing at the fart that just exploded out of my body with the force of a million jet engines and the volume to boot.
December 27, 2007
I hate sticky farts. I usually get them after eating McDonald’s, greasy oily Italian food, or Chinese food. My friend calls them “greasers”. These farts seem to stick to your clothes like those flying goombas from Super Mario 3. Even if you walk around or wave your hands, it’s like they’re stuck on you until you jump several times to get them off. It’s worse in the winter when you have to wear a jacket. Sticky farts seem to go directly from your butt, up your jacket, and into your face. It’s like God’s punishment for having too much fun with farting.
June 21, 2007
I find it to be surprisingly fulfilling to fart so loud and powerfully that it echoes. What an accomplishment this is! It just happened yesterday. I was in the stairwell of a building whose residents use the elevator to get to different floors. The stairwell is mostly for emergencies, which means it’s made of cement and metal, perfect for echoing. I walked down the stairs and was about to exit when I felt a fart coming on. I held for a few seconds, then let it out with force. It echoed all the way up to the 4th floor and then came back down again! I tried to hold in my laughter as I walked out the door. I tried even harder as some guy watched me walk away. I wonder if he heard me? I hope not. But I also kinda hope so. I rule!
One time in high school, I was having some major problems with gas. I don’t usually fart in public, especially a place like a classroom. So my gas would haunt me all day. One day it was especially bad, and by the time the end of the day came around, I had to poop. I never ever pooped at school, so this was a major issue for me. After most of the people left, I went into a mostly unused bathroom and sat down to do my business. The fart that came out makes me laugh to this day. It was the loudest noise that ever came out of my body, and it was exponentially amplified by the metal doors of the stall and the cement walls of the bathroom. It almost hurt my ears. I was mortified for a second because I thought somebody might come in to check out what the noise was. But I just had to laugh at the situation because it was so awesome. It was one of the proudest moments of my life.
April 9, 2007
I wonder if there’s a world record for the longest fart? If there is, I might’ve come close to breaking it (pun) yesterday. Following a breakfast overly filled with fiber (I was visiting old people), I didn’t notice any adverse reactions. But then dinner came around, and I could feel my body inflating with gas pressure. After the meal, I snuck off to my room, closed the door behind me, and let out a nice solid fart that lasted for 3-5 seconds. That amount of time doesn’t sound too long when you say it, but when a fart lasts that long, it’s an event to be witnessed. Oh what a day of farting.
March 19, 2007
First off, I’m awesome. Let’s all agree on that and move on.
Second, here’s what happens when I go into a public bathroom.
- I check under the stalls to make sure nobody’s there.
- I fart while I pee.
- I laugh at my fart.
- I laugh at the fact that I’m laughing at my fart.
I’m 24 years old. I guess I figured I’d grow out of it by now. That looks like a “no”.
January 26, 2007
Gather ’round, children. I’ll tell you all a story.
In the summer of 2003, I had a good internship during my summer break from school. I was housed in college dorms and had recently turned 21, so beer was my best friend. Every Thursday night was an adventure in drunkenness, dancing, and flirting, so I had a good time. One Friday morning, I showed up at work still feeling the effects of the previous night’s beer-scapade. I was working on some sort of big stupid document where I had to gather paperwork from many different places and put it all in one big binder. So I spent my share of time at the copy machine. I walked to a different location in the building to get a signature on a paper, and I used the copy machine in that area. As I was standing there making copies, I let out a nice big fart. I’m not sure if it’s only me, but whenever I drink a lot of beer, I have a certain type of fart. They really stink and they’re followed by a messy poop later. Their stink is unlike any other farts I do. This particular one was huge and really stunk bad. I stood there for a little while organizing my papers and planned on getting the hell out of there as soon as possible. Right before I could, a woman walked up right next to me. I told her to go ahead and use the copy machine because I was still shuffling through my papers. Meanwhile, I was mortified that she was inhaling the disgusting fart that just spewed out of my butt. I stood there in a panic, wondering what I could possibly do to tactfully get out of the situation. I couldn’t just leave. The woman knew I needed to make more copies, and she surely smelled my fart. So I did what anyone would do: I just stood there, nervously shuffling my papers until she left. She finally left after what seemed like an eternity, and I was free to make copies in the gas cloud that came from my ass. Oh what a Friday morning.
November 28, 2006
Quite possibly my biggest fear in life is accidental farting. I’m a champion of farting, but everything has its place. I fart at work and in other potentially embarrassing public places, but I usually make an effort to make it quiet or otherwise mask my involvement in the affair. But as I’m quietly squeezing out some hot air, I can’t help but think of the worst thing that could possibly happen: I accidentally push too hard or misjudge the size of the air pocket, thereby producing an audible blast of anal noise that can neither be ignored nor mistaken for anything other than a big old fart. I also get this fear when I do anything physical near other people. I go to a martial arts thing every Monday and Wednesday night, and I have to hold in my post-dinner farts. Other guys let them out silently, but the smell sure isn’t silent. And nobody owns up to it, so everybody is forced to choke on an anonymous fart as we all try to figure out who it could be. And as I exert force or use any energy, I have to always be conscious of what’s going on in my bowels. Is a fart trying to get out? How close is it to getting out? What do I need to do to make sure it stays in there? It’s a big issue for me.