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Archive for the ‘Farting’ Category

Dear Cube-Neighbor,

Get some Beano! Do you think no one can hear you farting as you walk into your cube?! It’s gross!!

Love,
Grossed-Out

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Noel E, the fart sniper

A well placed fart in public can be exactly what is needed when dealing with today’s disrespectful shoppers. Some people deserve nothing less nor do they understand that they drive the rest of us to such abhorrent behavior. Plus it’s fun! Especially after certain foods are ingested, as this can make the public farting experience even better.

For example, a night of drinking cheap boiler makers followed by a hearty breakfast of leftover egg salad and sauerkraut, can produce the stench that is required for maximum reaction, and guarantee teary eyes across hundreds of square feet of shopping area. Some farts are so noxious they seem to take on a life of their own by working overtime as they waft through the crowded aisles in search of that special someone.

The Auto Fart can also be quite effective especially if you live where temperatures hover around freezing because you can let them rip and your victim has few choices. How else can you deal with the asshole who is sitting shotgun fucking with your stereo? Your captive rider can either roll down the window for a face full of freezing rain, get out and walk through the ice capped streets, or they can breathe deep in the gathering gloom for a snoot full of everything that’s you! And of course the timeless, “Elevator Surprise” is perfect any time of the year!

For maximum results the supermarket fart is among the best there is because of the sheer audacity on the part of the shooter. The produce area is ideal for this. The bakery and butcher departments are also optimal because of their proximity to fresh food. The pleasing aroma of freshly baked onion rolls and lean roast beef can easily conjure those childhood memories of family picnics and lazy days at the beach. The salt spray in your face… The taste of cole slaw on your tongue… A Frisbee and a dog.

And as you are comforted by these memories and patiently wait your turn in the growing line, the bitch in front of you is too busy screaming into her cell phone to give her order to the minimum wage slave behind the meat slicer. But miraculously you are there! Poised like a well trained sniper in a bell tower with his trusty Remington 6mm deer rifle as you silently slip alongside this raving lunatic.

You gently squeeze that familiar and unwelcome warmth from underneath your unwashed Fruit of the Looms and wait for the fallout. You must not concern yourself with the collateral damage that involves the innocent week-end shoppers because you know that a certain degree of sacrifice is good for the soul. Your single minded mission to get that fucking line moving is paramount because your toothless bag of a mother-in-law is waiting at home for you to bring her lunch “before the next ice age.”

You then emerge from the cloud of stench that only you can enjoy. And as you exit the store with a smile on your face and a song in your heart, you look back over your shoulder just in time to see the cell phone screaming bitch lose her last meal all over the bean dip display.

Once again, life is good.

 Rantasaurus Says: Imagined in full and loving detail. Thank you, Noel. Now I know exactly how to handle Tyrantasaurus when she steps out of line. My colon alone is the length of seventeen football fields. You should smell the masterpieces I brew.

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Tyrantasaurus, in need of fresh air

There are two things I need to get off my chest about my 24 Hour Fitness yoga class.

First, this is to the subsitute that teaches there sometimes: YOGA IS NOT FOR CLAPPING! When people are trying to relax and listen to the crazy music and strain, we don’t need someone walking around, clapping, saying: “Push! (clap clap clap) C’mon guys, you can do it! Just go deeper! (clap clap clap)”

Second, I would like to relate a story that happened to me yesterday. We were in child’s pose, which is where you sit with your legs under you and lean all the way forward so your forehead touches the floor. It’s a relaxing stretch.

Well, the woman next to me, while we’re doing this, is so relaxed that she heaves a great, big sigh. That sounds about right, so I take a deep breath… only to realize…

It wasn’t a sigh! It was a nearly-silent and absolutely putrid fart! Right in my mouth! It was the grossest thing in the world!

The whole room stunk for the next three minutes and I just wanted to hunt her down. The culprit? An 80 year-old woman wearing a pink ringer tee with a picture of a motorcycle that, in red gliter, said “Cruisin’ for Love.”

I think she’s got enough to worry about without my fury, but please… can we avoid eating a can of beans before coming to yoga class and sitting your stinky ass right next to my head?

Rantasaurus Says: Did she have a Harley Davidson tattoo on her ass? ‘Cuz that sounds an awful lot like Nana.

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Dear Sean,

Yesterday you taught me what BVF stands for and I will never, ever forgive you.

Tyrantasaurus

PS- “Bloody Vagina Farts?”

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This is our second YouTube video. It’s of one of my own rants, that I will post above…

This is the format I’m planning: videos of our favorite rants and videos of our contest winners. This is an itty-bitty one.

So submit, and you never know when your rant will end up on YouTube!

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RantyRex, he smelt it and he dealt it

I have acquired a definite love of farting. It’s to the point that even in public I’ll let ‘er rip, no matter what the surroundings or who is next to me.

Of course, the Taco Bell plastic seats give off the best-sounding crisp results, with wooden church pews coming in a close 2nd for the added embarrassment factor.

I tend to eat a bowl of Grapenuts about 20 minutes before I want to put on a show. That stuff has so much fiber in it, I usually sit on the toilet while downing the bowl since it tends to blow the corn right out of me.

People always say how they think farts and farting in public are so gross, yet every person I know laughs when someone rips one. I’ve converted many a fart-hater into a fart lover over time.

I think I learned it all from my grandmother, who could let the most holy rolling thunder wet farts I’ve ever heard in my life. I swear when I heard one I thought the floor was gonna get slick where she was standing. I pride myself in learning from the best. Cheers to you, grandma!!!!

Rantasaurus Says: You know the 1906 earthquake? That was me after a particularly bad volcano bug. Sorry, guys.

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Dear Casa Rosa,

You know, what Casa Rosa? I will never patronize your dining establishment ever again. Not only did I get beef, bloody, bloody beef in my vegitarian burrito, but it took you guys seriously forty-five minutes to fix it. I’m sitting here, my date is done with her food and I’m still waiting on a measly burrito that it would’ve taken me two minutes to throw together if I’d been making it myself.

And you know what else? Iceberg lettuce, two pieces of tomato and three black olives is not a vegitarian burrito! Where are the grilled veggies? Where’s the salsa? Nope. Just beans, cheese, rice and the above holy trinity of bullshit.

Not only that, but I could’ve skipped the bus and propelled myself home just by farting. My body did not like the meal, and neither did I. I’m never going back.

Sincerely,
Farty McGee

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