The reasons to avoid travelling on public transport if you can are many and varied. No doubt one of the most compelling is the desire to avoid contact with that elusive, anti-social individual known only as ‘The Phantom Farter’.
I had to go into town earlier today, and was obliged to return by bus. This led to an encounter with that sinister, will o’ the wisp figure, which proved to be only slightly less traumatic than a near-death experience.
As I was nearing the end of my journey, one of ten or so passengers on the lower deck let off one of those silent-but-deadly guffs which suggest that the culprit has stuffed an over-ripe piece of Stilton up their arse and left it to rot.
The effect on the social dynamic among the passengers was subtle yet immediate. Heads turned uneasily from side to side, as individuals visibly sort to direct attention away from themselves by implying that the source of the atrocity lay elsewhere.
The cheeky cunt in the seat behind me got up and opened a window, in what I took to be a blatant attempt to point the finger of blame at me. Then an elderly Asian woman pressed the bell and shuffled towards the door. The collective consciousness of the remaining passengers immediately formed the opinion ‘CURRY!’, and a silent verdict of ‘guilty’ was inferred.
Shortly it was my turn to get off, and as I walked away from the bus stop I was at pains to avoid glancing in the direction of any pavement-side passengers, lest this be seen as an admission of guilt on my part.
Take it from me ladies and gents (and others), this really was a rasper of the most eye- wateringly noxious kind. I mean, what kind of diet must some people be on to produce such an effect?
The worst of it is, you never know where this anonymous misanthrope may strike next; in the supermarket, the cinema queue, the post office,the coffee shop… before fading into the wild blue yonder once more.
‘They seek him here, they seek him there, they seek the bastard everywhere. Is he in heaven or is he in hell, that elusive farting pimpernel’.
I think I need some air…
Nominated by – Ron Knee
I am in my late sixties and still get enormous pleasure from letting rip, at home on my own I roar with laughter, once let a stormer go in the shop on a ferry, a German couple walked straight into it, crying ‘ oo stinkun’ do you think there may be something wrong with me?
15
I always thought that the Huns were a bit partial to that sort of thing, Billy, if you get my drift…
4
You really wouldn’t think that Germans would have a problem with gas…
11
In a previous workplace, some fucker near me used to emit the ‘silent but violent’ variety, then would immediately walk out of the office before the stench took its maximum effect. We all knew it was him though and complained to the manager, who did fuck all about it. He got made redundant shortly afterwards though, and good riddance to the dirty fucker.
Then we got his replacement, a Peter Kay look-alike who had B.O like rotten cabbage. Fortunately he was useless and didn’t last long.
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The Phantom raspberry blower of old London town…
‘ere, I want a word with you
Thank you messrs Barker & Corbett
9
Isn’t it a worrying thought that if you can smell someone’s fart you are actually inhaling particles of shit ?
That’s enough to put me off tonight’s facesitting session with Salma Hyek that I’d been looking forward to so much.
Mind you, having weighed up the evidence, I’m up for it big time!
https://www.lifehack.org/400536/why-smelly-farts-are-healthy-signs-and-can-benefit-people-around-us
2
I have a dirty secret to share, my missus goes apeshit when I do it though. Its usually in Asda or Sainsbury’s but I’m not posh, I’ll do it in Aldi or Lidl as well but we don’t go there very often. This dirty little habit of mine usually occurs the morning after a night on the beer followed by a Curry & Rice ready meal for supper. I walk along an aisle, usually the frozen food and select a victim. I prefer peacefuls but Pensioners will do in a pinch. I get as close to them as I can, fart bomb them then disappear around the nearest corner and have a fucking good giggle. I have also been known to queue up at a checkout behind a peaceful, drop my guts then move to the next checkout as if its moving quicker.
7
Once when queuing at a local post office some right filthy bastard towards the front dropped their guts. I have been fortunate in my mildly exciting life to experience some pretty full on aromas and take pleasure in watching others suffer whilst I keep the old lip stiff. Not this foul miasmic stench, never before or since have I encountered such a vile aroma, sun baked corpses included. Not a word of a lie three elderly ladies got jammed in the door trying to get out. The dynamics of the the orderly queue broke down completely. That was the measure of that bloody awful fart. People had been waiting up to half an hour but fuck that they exited stage right. One minute the place was full next almost empty; the staff behind the screens looking rather surprised then they too got wind of the problem, one rather prim counter person distinctly said fuck me. The hairs in my nose were singed and I retched as I got the fuck out. Diesel fumes fucking nectar!
Needless to say that the culprit was never reliably identified rumours circulated and a couple of older gentlemen well known for disgusting behaviour when in drink took the rap, one of them was near the front of the queue when the filthy deed was done so may well have been him. But I would posit that if he was the culprit I hope he took medical advice and gave up his shit smuggling sideline the filthy arsed cunt.
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