The quintessential fart

I am back, I have decided to yet again put finger to keypad and talk again once again about fabulous flatulence. I have not been on for a few months, I started to feel pressurised into writing, and that was never my intention. So here we go, a brief foray into the wondrous and foul, magnificent and ghastly world of trumps.

I have already wrote about my top 5 favourite farts of all time so take a few moments to refresh your memories on a few farting anecdotes to wet your appetite.
http://gavstjames.blogspot.com/2010/12/farts.html

Done it? Good.

One of the foulest things I did against my brothers when I was younger was to make them rate my farts. In them days I used a fruit scoring system to ascertain how bad it was. If I remember rightly the scale started with apple, an apple was barely worth your sphincter opening to be honest, it was a breath of air untroubled by the wiff of poo. After apple there was orange, orange was a “meh” fart, it was neither here or there, it was the Aston Villa of trumpage, always promising the earth but in the end it just delivered resentment and disappointment, the Cheryl Cole of the guff world. Banana was next, this is where things started to get interesting. A banana had a discernable body and had a certain amount of gusto and life in its delivery. A banana was something to do in church to elicit a stern look from some hatchet faced old biddy who really should have the fucking decency to mind her own fucking business and stop breathing the same bastard oxygen as the rest of us. After banana came lemon, If I did a lemon then I was more than happy, lemons are the type of fart that got you beat up if you dropped one on a car/train/bus. Lemons where the farts that got me branded an “animal” by my mother or had my Gran having an “episode” when I dropped one in her beloved Volvo. Finally came mangoes. All the farts in my previous post about farting would have been mangoes. Mangoes are very rarely done, but once done they are always memorable. They are the Rolls Royce, the Robbie Fowlers, the Lorraine Kelly of the fart world; they are the farts that make you check your underwear for “additional material”, the kind of farts that make you go to the doctors because something really could be wrong with you. Mangoes have crossed the line from just foul and funny to fucking ghastly.

The way I used to get my brothers to rate my farts is worth a mention. My two younger brothers used to share a bedroom and used to conspire against me, I could hear them whispering and giggling, pointing and plotting against me at every opportunity so I had a number of ways I used to get revenge and prove myself the alpha male, one way was to just beat them up, but that wore thin and my mum used to get a tad worked up if I did this. ( on one occasion my youngest brother accidentally ran onto my foot with his gonads whist we where having a toy fight and my mum ran in, saw him on the floor and floored me with a punch). My favourite form of revenge was the facefart. If whilst tucked in bed at night I felt a fart brewing I used to dive out of bed in my boxers, run into their room and wrestle the one nearest to the floor and then sit on his face, place my ring on his nostrils and then fart. There. I said it, never before have I shared that with anyone but there you are….I used to deliberately fart up my brothers nose and then make them tell me how good it was. Outstanding.

The rating system above was rudimentary at best. I now think I have a robust and workable system to rate farts. This is based on a number of categories.

• Smell. Smell is probably the most important attribute for a fart to possess and the odours come in many many wonderful and varied forms. From the eggy sulphurous smell of a high protein diet to the squalid and swamplike odour of shit, from the sharp and pungent smell of decaying matter to the yeasty exuberance of a hangover special. Each have their own characteristics and mannerisms. Just like a fine wine each must be savoured and enjoyed. You should rate smell from zero to twenty. Zero being a odourless yawning of the anus and a twenty would be a cataclysmic eruption of such vileness that it would make grown mean sob in horror.
• Volume. There is a school of thought that places how loud a fart is above smell, I am inclined to think that whilst noise level is great a good fart is nothing without odour. Anyhow no one can deny the sheer theatre and charisma of a proper loud fart. Nothing says “I AM HERE” like a right good bum trumpet. “make it loud and proud son” my Dad used to say to me and by fuck I have held that close to my heart. What you are sitting on can have a bearing on how loud a fart is, as I mentioned in my first post about farts, a good plastic chair can amplify a fart to breathtaking proportions. Any hard surface can have this affect but it is better if you are sat on something with a bit of give, i.e a chair, bench. For a truly awesome and scarily loud fart follow these steps in the bath. 1 when a fart is imminent squat above the water. 2 Lower yourself so that your anus just touches the surface of the water. 3 Fart. The noise is like a flock of giant pigeons taking off and be careful to hold on tight to the side of the bath, the first time I did this I nearly drowned I was laughing that much. Rate volume on a scale of zero to fifteen. Zero having no noise what so fucking ever, Fifteen which would startle a police horse.
• Body: This is the actual space a fart takes up. If you fart at a football stadium and the whole terrace gets to share the glory then that would be a fine effort indeed, whereas someone next to you gets a blast but someone standing on his opposite side does not get any then that would be a poor effort and something you should really feel shameful about to be honest. From zero to ten.
• Life: How long the fart stops around for. A particle of fart gas can persist for a startlingly long time. This was never more apparent when as teens we used to hang around in total video in Duky, on one occasion one of the lads managed to trap a beast of a fart within a video cassette box. We went back every day to check on our captive fart..... IT WAS STILL THERE A WEEK LATER!!!. This was actually scary at the time and we thought some creepy shit was happening, it was fuckin eerie. Rate from zero to ten.
• Special: This is a five point category for anything special, bizarre or memorable about the fart. It may smell of cornflakes or tomato ketchup, it may have caused someone to puke, . Also included would be the time honoured practice of following through. Every one has followed through, if they say different then they are a god-damned liar and will burn for all eternity in the abysmic fires of hell for their transgression. I have actually followed through on the way to work once, I rapidly turned around and waddled down dewsnap lane to change and shower, my underpants looked like one of them drawings psychologists show you to see if you are mad. Whilst we are discussing following through I will list a few euphemisms that may be used when in polite company:
  To gamble and lose
  Create a russet gusset
  To draw mud
  To drop a pebble.
  Listen to girls aloud
  It may sound like a creaky door opening or Cheryl Cole trying to sing, the fart may cause a dog to bite you or a small child to cry but if there is something outlandish about the flatulence, give it some points.

So points awarded are out of a possible 60. I have divided the points up into tiers of how special the flatulence score is.

SCORE	DEFINITION
0 – 10.	My as well not bother. Hope you are embarrassed. Fucking Pussy
11 – 20.	Pitiful, some substance there but not worth the effort to be honest. Epic Fail.
21 – 30.	Getting somewhere but still on the poor side, may elicit a comment in fastidious company.
31 – 40.	Good effort, will turn heads and less hardy people will move away from you.
41 - 50	A right belter! May cause a medicrum of distress to the infirm and elderly
51 - 55	Holy Fuck!! that’s fucking wrong, a tremendous life affirming effort. Can cause nausea and bouts of spontaneous violence upon the perpetrator
56 - 59	No, just fucking NO! Get some medical attention because that is not fucking normal. A world class effort.
60	The perfect storm, a maybe once in a lifetime fart that will leave you aghast at your own body. WILL cause weeping, sickness, assault and quite possibly a hospital stay followed by a appearance in court. God loves you.

QUEEF

No article about farting would be complete without a section about Queefs.

This is the description as given by the outstanding and morally upright website www.urbandictionary.com.

 Air expelled from the vagina causing the labia minora to audibly vibrate creating a sound resembling a fart. A queef, however is not accompanied by a scent as with flatulence .Queefs often occur during or after deep penile penetration and can add even more fun to sex.

I remember the first time I experienced a Queef first hand, I nearly passed out from the shock and I honestly thought it was a normal “bum” trump, I could not believe that women did such a thing and I could never really enjoy our relationship after that and I had to end it.

The origins are a little obscure but the word “Queef” seems to originate from the Manchester united squad of 1897. Folklore states that their Captain at the time Bob Erentz was a secret Liverpoolfc fan and as a practical joke he persuaded the rest of the squad that the smell of fermenting kippers kept away unwanted advances by evil spirits and women of negotiable affection. The foulest smelling of the squad was a forward by the unfortunate name of Keith Spacker. Due to his hair-lip he pronounced his name “Queef”. Over the course of the 1897-1898 season the smell of the utd players was that bad that teams refused to share the same pitch as the rancid utd players and they soon became known as the “Queefs” Soon any appalingly bad smelling article was called a “queef” Around the same time the name for a fanny-fart was the “lady-cough”. Whilst this name was ok for gentile company it was not a colloquialism that suitable for the rough slums of working class britain. No one knows when or where exactly queef was used to describe a lady-cough but it is thought that it was around leeds in the summer of 1899, since then the word has entered the English language.

Twelve second rule: This is like the urban myth about dieing in a dream. If you die in a dream then you apparently die in real life. The same is supposedly true about farting non-stop for longer than 12 seconds. If you emit flatulence in one continuous stream for longer than 12 seconds you colon will prolapse into your lower intestine causing massive internal bleeding and death.


Hope you have enjoyed and learned something about farting.