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I was doing some work near Appleton WI, and got stuck late one night.  Missed my flight to Chicago. Shit.

Irritated, I rescheduled my flight for early the next morning (6am?)  The only seats left are at the back of regional jets that operate there.  I recognized that my seat assignment was an aisle seat, just one row ahead, and across from the lavatory.  I thought nothing of it, and went out to dinner.

I woke up at 3:45am, and arrived at the airport at about 5:15am.  

Several things were working against me on this fateful trip:

1. When you work out-of-town in a strange city, you tend to eat out at restaurants. Big ones, small ones, chains and mom-and-pop's. Since your employer is footing the bill, you eat a little more, drink a little more, and (maybe) even treat yourself to dessert. I did all of these things.  Mexican food, replete with cervezas a plenty. Ice cream to cool off the burn a bit. Delicious to the last spoonful.

2. When you wake up very, very early in the morning in that strange city, without the standard comforts of home, your "morning routine" is thrown off a bit. That is, my body was simply not ready (at 4am) to unload the goodly pile of toxic waste that was brewing from the night before from my bowels into the hotel's Standard commode. Perhaps the toilets in ORD's F terminals would be the beneficiaries...

3. In an effort to wake up quickly, I fired down two cups of the hotel's rot-gut coffee. One in my room while getting ready to leave, and one while driving towards the airport.

4. Nearing the airport, I mindlessly pull into the gas station to fill up the rental car and grab a breakfast snack. Bacon/egg/cheese sandwich, and a hash-brown or two, along with a third cup of coffee.


I dropped off the rental car, jogged to security, and got to my gate a few minutes later -- about 5 minutes before boarding time.  I noticed that there was a large group of blue-hairs (tour/church group?) also scheduled to take the flight with me.

By this time, I realized that I had to empty my bladder due to the coffee had consumed during the past hour, but that my intestinal tract was still not "ready" to loose the the likely bowl-splattering release that I would have otherwise enjoyed in the comforts of my home.

The boarding begins, and I walk down the jetway.  A frequent flyer, I place my bags in their proper spots, and settle into my seat. Somewhat wired due to the coffee, I was unable to doze, as I prefer to do on early AM flights.

The plane fills up quickly and somewhat loudly, as the chattering church-going blue-haired contingent is babbling with the excitement that they're Chicago-bound (or wherever they were headed, ultimately.)

The plane leaves the gate on time, but stops abruptly as we get out to the edge of the runway.

Our captain, warm and comfy in the cockpit (and used to waking up early for this flight) announces that we'll "be taking off shortly", but that "we need to remain seated, as we're on an active runway." About 20 minutes pass.


All the while, my bacon/egg/cheese sandwich, hashbrowns, and three cups of coffee have created a downward force on the top of the Mexican food/beer/ice cream bonanza that's been approaching the point of release, some time within the next hour.

Can I keep holding it?  Sure, no problem.

I'm a professional.
I've been to this rodeo before.

I hear the jet engines power up, and feel my body push back into the seat. The regional jet lifts off the tarmac, and we rocket towards Chicago's O'Hare International, a quick ~35 minute flight.

I feel a slight bubble in my stomach.  No big deal. I find myself looking out the window, and after a while, the "ding" sounds, announcing that it's safe to turn on your electronic devices.  A few minutes more, and another ding sounds --- the fateful "you may now move about the cabin" ding.


Then, I heard the unbuckling of a few dozen airline seatbelts.


Until this point, you probably thought that this post would lead to the tale of me overloading the airfilters in a tiny, 50-person plane with the malodorous emissions that had brewed within my intestines.  It's not.


This is a story about cropdusting.  Cropdusting of the worst kind.  Cropdusting after morning routines are upset by an early flight.   Cropdusting ---- by a group of 30 blue-haired church-going 60-70 year olds.


In my life, I've never smelled a nastier combination of old ass, fart, mothballs, coffee, terrible perfume and airplane blue toilet water and urine (remember, I was sitting next to the lavatory).  Apparently, these septegenarians also were thrown off by the early AM flight, too.  They had the same idea as I did; ORD would be a good spot to complete the normal morning constitutions.

But since all of them had to sit in their seats for an extra 20 minutes, awaiting for takeoff,  each and every one of them had dropped methane bombs in their high-waisted Gramma and Grampa jeans, which marinated in the stink of gas, dust, and Ben-gay.

As they lined up to walk back to the toilet, I was the recipient of the noxious fumes held in their Depends covered asses...as each one entered the lavatory, they turned to face the lav door. Each ass pointed directly at my head. As another, and another, and another geezer got up out of their seat to head to the bathroom, I realized that I'd have to endure the stank until the flight de-planed.

That's exactly what I had to do.

I'll never fly out of Appleton in the early AM again.

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I had not been dating my Wife very long and we were in her Parents living room, just the 4 of us, I began to feel one coming on, one of those feelings where you know there is no stopping it, I shit and hoped it wouldn't be bad, but it was and before long her Dad had this strange look on his face and my Wife asked Dad what is wrong?? he said he smelled something foul I didn't say anything(to embarrassed) but it was rank, I don't think they ever did figure it out, and 20+ years later I still haven't fessed up.

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OK, I haven't made it past page 3 yet, but I cannot help it.  I have spent more time laughing and wiping tears from my eyes than I have spent reading.  I'll go ahead and add my own before I continue reading...


I was in 6th grade, still in the first month of junior-high.  This is it.  The big leagues.  It was Friday; sloppy joe day for lunch.  I had 2 classes after lunch...math and english.  Math went fine, but 7th period english came and my stomach was rumbling bad.

Our classroom was split down the middle.  Desks on either side of the room faced to the center (each side was facing each other). I was in the second row on one side,  5 minutes before 3pm, and the afternoon announcements started.  I bent over to the side to put my binder into my bookbag, and my ass took full advantage of the situation.  Out came the absolute loudest fart that has ever echoed off the thin plastic seat I was sitting in.  It only stopped with a high-pitched squeal because I immediately sat upright pinching off the assplosion.  Every pair of eyeballs in that room was focused on me as I slowly scanned the room from left to right.  Even the teacher, who was standing at the podium was staring at me with her jaw dropped.  

Those last 5 minutes were an eternity.  

2 girls I had a crush on were in that class too

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I remember it like it was yesterday....

I was a boy scout.  We would meet at the local Methodist church in the assembly area.  Think large room with tall ceilings...linoleum floors.  We had just finished an activity and everyone else went outside to do something.  I had to stay inside with one of the other scouts moms (believe me...you don't want pics) to demonstrate some knots for my merit badge.  

As she bends over to pick up the rope off the floor...she let's loose the loudest damn fart I've ever heard.  The thing reverberated in the room.  Even worse, it smells horrendous...like something died in her ass.  Her and I were the only two people in the room...there was no doubt who did it, but she still tried to pretend that nothing happened.  I felt like houdini trying to tie those knots before I ran out of air....

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So, why does cutting one at your desk mean everyone is going to come see you?

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So, why does cutting one at your desk mean everyone is going to come see you?

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LOL  Never fails.  I was going to post a similar quesiton.

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When my brother and I were wee little ones, (4&7) my father would grab our heads in a leg lock and fart on us while we screamed histerically.  He found this hillarious and did it once or twice a week.  It helped that we would avoid him the rest of the night so he could watch TV or eat dinner in peace...Whatever, anyway 36 years later I still remember the one time he did it and the fart was actually a shart.  I  still remember my mother screaming at him like a crazy woman while she washed shit out of our hair and ears in the bath tub. As an adult i think That was pretty funny, but damn it did mess me up in the head

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http://theiaoh.com/wp-content/gallery/haters-morning-coffee-picture-dump-01-13-13/thumbs/thumbs_funny-fart-jokes.jpg

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When my brother and I were wee little ones, (4&7) my father would grab our heads in a leg lock and fart on us while we screamed histerically.  He found this hillarious and did it once or twice a week.  It helped that we would avoid him the rest of the night so he could watch TV or eat dinner in peace...Whatever, anyway 36 years later I still remember the one time he did it and the fart was actually a shart.  I  still remember my mother screaming at him like a crazy woman while she washed shit out of our hair and ears in the bath tub. As an adult i think That was pretty funny, but damn it did mess me up in the head

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When my brother and I were wee little ones, (4&7) my father would grab our heads in a leg lock and fart on us while we screamed histerically.  He found this hillarious and did it once or twice a week.  It helped that we would avoid him the rest of the night so he could watch TV or eat dinner in peace...Whatever, anyway 36 years later I still remember the one time he did it and the fart was actually a shart.  I  still remember my mother screaming at him like a crazy woman while she washed shit out of our hair and ears in the bath tub. As an adult i think That was pretty funny, but damn it did mess me up in the head

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I've been working a lot of long days lately and this is the series of events that leads to "the incident". Yesterday I was up at 4 AM and started my day with two big bowls of raisin bran, four cups of black coffee, and a day old cheese danish. Hurried to work and was greeted by a fresh pot of coffee and maple bacon donuts. Noon time rolls around and it's time for lunch. Chili, little smokies, and red bull. Keep working through the day and my stomach begins to ache. No matter how hard I tried to release the evil within I was sealed up tighter than Fort Knox. It was almost like my body had a vendetta against someone and was preparing for just the right time. Dinner time rolls around and I had three eggs, sausage, and toast. 2 AM rolls around and I had to be up early in time for a morning conference call. I forgot to set my alarm and 10 minutes before my conference call was supposed to begin my wife comes in and very gently says it's almost time for your meeting.

I jump out of bed, throw on some clothes and get my computer ready for my conference call. Skype starts ringing into the meeting and then my body began to not so silently scream "let it begin...let IT BEGINNNNN!!!!!!!" braaapppppp brappppppp brapppppp :insert tuba noises here: with each ring of the phone I begged my sphincter to show some mercy. Silence fell for one split second and I thought I was safe. Then, as if imitating the Ark of the Covenant's leading role in Indiana Jones the most inhuman sound of my life emanated from my body. It was as if the kraken had been released and I had absolutely no control. I made every attempt to mute my microphone and my computer showed its true allegiance by not allowing me to close the window. As the beads of sweat rolled down my face all I could hear was the tiny voice of a woman say in an almost inaudible way "oh...my...god" and then this little tiny snicker. I excused myself only to hear you are caller 17 on this call. Turns out I had broadcast the magnificence of the incident across three different European countries as well as to a large construction trailer in Africa.

I don't think I will never live that down.

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When my brother and I were wee little ones, (4&7) my father would grab our heads in a leg lock and fart on us while we screamed histerically.  He found this hillarious and did it once or twice a week.  It helped that we would avoid him the rest of the night so he could watch TV or eat dinner in peace...Whatever, anyway 36 years later I still remember the one time he did it and the fart was actually a shart.  I  still remember my mother screaming at him like a crazy woman while she washed shit out of our hair and ears in the bath tub. As an adult i think That was pretty funny, but damn it did mess me up in the head

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Someone please post a good link to the Ryans poop story.

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well not quite that but have had girls fart when I have been banging them. Almost as an embarassing a situation as someone calling out the previous lovers name while having sex.

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http://www.ihos.com/steakhouse.html

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In a grocery store one of my good friends "crop dusted" an old lady so badly once, she smelled the meat she had in her basket and put it back on the shelf.

she looked like she was about to throw up.

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Three friends and I, including one who we will call "Bob", decided to go up to Greer in eastern AZ where friend "Bob" was celebrating his 21st with family.

It was summer time in Tucson where it was hot as hell, and given that we are all in college and had nothing to do that week we just loaded up the car and got going to Sonoran_TJs cabin in Greer without much thought and we would meet "Bob" there. (Its only a few hours drive)
We were only going to be there a day and a half at most so we didn't bother to buy real food, just fast food, which was a mistake.

In Tucson, there used to be a Mexican restaurant called Big Juans. It is/was really good but you're smart to have a toilet near by when you eat there. Thats where we had lunch the day before, and Taco Bell for dinner. The next day we left for Greer and stopped in Globe for lunch, where we had Taco Bell. Once we got to Greer and met up with "Bob", his dad treated us to some BBQ at a local restaurant which turned out to be the only non-fast food of the entire trip.

It was "Bob's" 21st that night so we got him some drinks and some snack food and set about getting him drunk at the cabin. (Not too hard at 8,500 feet and when he's a light weight).

To this point, I had managed to not yet go to the bathroom except to urinate since before Big Juans 24 hours earlier and did not do so until after returning home to Tucson the next evening.

The next morning we got up and got in the car to go fishing and it hit me. I could feel the mass building and before I got in the car I did what I thought was the courteous thing to do and open the gas valve outside the car before setting off. But I made a crucial error, I got back in too soon.

Everyone in the car was aware I had let the fart go outside and had waited a second to get back in so they decided it was safest to leave the windows closed and leave the gas trapped outside, they were wrong

As the doors closed and Sonoran_TJ put the 4Runner in gear everyone in unison reacted like they just got hit a chemical weapon the Syrian Army would use. I'm pretty sure Toyota never anticipated the doors on that vehicle would ever need to be opened that fast. All 4 of us bolted from the car, and at least 2 of them were gagging like they were going to vomit. I was laughing my ass off