One good thing about the going back to school in the fall, it’s a chance to get even with the school bully. This year you’re going to fart back at him. The first day of school get up a couple hours early and roast garlic buds in the oven and have them for breakfast, smear them on your toast. By the time recess comes around, you’ll be able to make that playground renegade drop to his knees, for a real ass whooping without the whooping. Mind you there will be a lot of whooping and hollerin’ of another kind.

SEPTEMBER IS:
BACK TO FARTING IN SCHOOL MONTH

Time to give up farting in the wide open fields and get back to farting in the classroom where you can really make an impact.

NEW...
FART BLOG!
Tell us what's on your derriere!
Release your inner fart onto the world wide web on the Fartoholics.com Blog of Farts - click here

FARTMAN ROCKS
MTV VIDEO MUSIC AWARDS

Howard Stern kicks ass on You Tube Fart Channel ...
watch it now - click here

MASTER FARTBLOWER STUDIES UNDER JIMMY THE PORK PLUG

After an intensive three week retreat with Jimmy the pork Plug Master Fartblower Fatty the “Pig Cushion” Wolfe now has a well stocked arsenal (arse and all) that he can call on at any time to ward off attackers or just plain ordinary people who try to get close and pry into his private life. “I had some rotting meat surgically implanted into my upper bowel, encased in a leak proof metal cylinder. A needle valve was installed, so that with mechanical assistance I can release as much of the trapped rotting meat gas as I like. It’s really quite cool.” sputtered Fatty. “I like what he does, he has a good feel, especially for the more popular farts, especially the jazz farts.”, raved admirer Victoria Templebaum.

They are naming a rose after your farts ... Stinkrose.

click to enlarge

TOOTLING DOWN
AT THE GROCERY STORE

I went grocery shopping recently while not being altogether sure that course of action was a wise one. You see, the previous evening I had prepared and consumed a massive quantity of my patented 'You're definitely Going to Sh!t yourself' chili. Tasty stuff, albeit hot to the point of being painful, Which comes with a written guarantee from me that if you eat the next day both of your ***** cheeks will fall off. Here's the thing. I had awakened that morning, and even after two cups of coffee (and all of you know what I mean) nothing happened. No 'Watson's Movement 2'. Despite habanera peppers swimming their way through my intestinal tract, I appeared to be unable to create the usual morning symphony referred to by my next door neighbors as thunder and lightning.

Knowing that a time of reckoning had to come, yet not sure of just when, I Bravely set off for the market; a local Wal-Mart grocery store that I often haunt in search of tasty tidbits. Upon entering the store at first all seemed normal. I selected a cart and began pushing it about dropping items in for purchase. It wasn't until I was at the opposite end of the store from the restrooms that the pain hit me. Oh, don't look at me like you don't know what I'm talking about. I'm referring to that 'Uh oh, gotta go' pain that always seems to hit us at the wrong time. The thing is, this pain was different.

The habaneras in the chili from the night before were staging a revolt. In a mad rush for freedom they bullied their way through the small intestines, Forcing their way into the large intestines, and before I could take one step in the direction of the restrooms which would bring sweet relief, it happened. The peppers fired a warning shot. There I stood, alone in the spice and baking aisle, suddenly enveloped in a noxious cloud the likes of which has never before been recorded. I was Afraid to move for fear that more of this vile odor might escape me. Slowly, oh so slowly, the pressure seemed to leave the lower part of my body, and I began to move up the aisle and out of it, just as an elderly woman turned Into it.

I don't know what made me do it, but I stopped to see what her reaction would be to the malodorous effluvium that refused to dissipate, as she walked into it unsuspecting. Have you ever been torn in two different directions emotionally? Here's what I mean, and I'm sure some of you at least will be able to relate.

I could've warned that poor woman but didn't. I simply watched as she walked into an invisible, and apparently indestructible, wall of odor so terrible that all she could do before gathering her senses and running, was to stand there blinking and waving her arms about her head as though trying to ward off angry bees. This, of course, made me feel terrible, but then made me laugh. Mistake.

Here's the thing. When you laugh, it's hard to keep things 'clamped down', if you know what I mean. With each new guffaw an explosive issue burst forth from my nether region. Some were so loud and echoing that I was later told a few folks in other aisles had ducked, fearing that someone was robbing the store and firing off a shotgun. Suddenly things were no longer funny. IT was coming, and I raced off through The store towards the restrooms, laying down a cloud the whole way, praying that I'd make it before the grand mal assplosion took place. Luck was on my side. Just in the nick of time I got to the john, began the inevitable 'Oh my God', floating above the toilet seat because my ass is burning so bad, purging. One poor fellow walked in while I was in the middle of what is the true meaning of 'Shock and Awe'. He made a gagging sound, and disgustedly said, 'Sonofabitch!', then quickly left. Once finished I left the restroom, reacquired my partially filled cart intending to carry on with my shopping when a store employee approached me and said, 'Sir, you might want to step outside for a few minutes. It appears some prankster set off a stink bomb in the store. The manager is going to run the vent fans on high for a minute or two which ought to take care of the problem.' That of course set me off again, causing residual gases to escape me. The employee took one sniff, jumped back pulling his shirt up to cover his nose and, pointing at me in an accusing manner shouted, 'IT'S YOU!', then ran off returning moments later with the manager. I was unceremoniously escorted from the premises and asked none too kindly not to return. Home again without having shopped, I realized that there was nothing to eat but leftover chili, so I consumed two more bowls. The next day I went back to shop at the grocery store I can't say anymore about that because we are in court over the whole matter. Bastards claim they're going to have to repaint the store.