Preface by Frank Scicchitano This book really stinks.

Seems we have a group of folks that really love their "own brand!" Sickening really, but described so beautifully. Sadly, we can all smell the words. Graced by the presence of the great Dr. William P. Rosen, Fartologist, and the venerable Harry W. Conlon, renown culinary practitioner of the Dutch Oven. A preeminent authority to be sure! Again, most regrettably! The art of 'Winding' so well described by the genius of these two individuals. Giants among mere mortals in the art of passing gas. Royalty of the wet ones! Colossal connoisseurs of the colon. Marvelous!! It seems however, that not all 'internal explosions between the cheeks' have been disclosed. Though almost all have been mentioned ad nauseum, one in particular, has been omitted. The Death Wind! "A Conn. man became so enraged when a woman at a party chided him for his repeated flatulence that he fatally stabbed a pal and injured three others." The Death Wind, too disgusting to consider Enjoy (I think) Frank S.

All Flatulence Great & Small My Life in Farts

Its a Flatulent Life

By Harry Conlon copyright 2011

Flatulence. What is it? My Mr. Science voice, all deep and serious: Flatulence is the expulsion through the rectum of a mixture of gases that are byproducts of the digestion process of mammals and other animals. My everyday guy voice, Oh, you mean farting? Exactly. Everybody does it. I mean everybody. Beautiful people, ugly people, fat people, skinny people, all people fart. That old Armour hotdogs jingle comes to mind (take out Armour hotdogs and replace it with farts <leave out eat and bite because thats just wrong> kinda fits, huh?) Hotdogs, Armour hotdogs. What kinds of kids eat Armour hot dogs? Fat kids, skinny kids, kids who climb on rocks. Tough kids, sissy kids Even kids with chicken pox Love hotdogs, Armour hot dogs The dogs kids love to bite! The gas kids love to pass! To children between the age of 1 and 15 (especially boys) flatulence is the height of comedy. But, (butt) in the right context a well placed

fart can be the comic relief a gathering of adults need. Case in point; my grandfather. John Conlon was a stone mason. A master carver of limestone he was. Any shape, any purpose, Grandpa could carve it as well as Michelangelo. Several of our nations capitals monuments are attributed to him. His main bread and butter came from the carving of headstones and graveyard monuments. The man loved drinking beer. He even had a go at brewing it himself. Im talking about back in the 1920s, during Prohibition. After prohibition was repealed, grandpa gave up his home brewing and enjoyed his beer like everybody else. His favorite bar food was pickled eggs. (some of you know where this is headed already) The last 15 years of his life, grandpa had a constant companion. An English bulldog named Bowser. After grandma passed, grandpa and Bowser led a bachelors life. Bowser loved beer and pickled eggs as much as grandpa did. Over the years this terrible twosome became family legend. Going for a visit or having them for a visit was a foul adventure to say the least. The two of them were use to the odor, living in their tiny two bedroom cottage. Let me tell you about this odor. Rotten eggs + rotting flesh (with a hint of Bengay ointment from grandpas sore hip). The only thing that can make this horrid odor worse would be to add Corn Beef and Cabbage to the mix. You DID NOT want to hang out at my grandpas on Saint Patricks Day! Grandpa and Bowser loved each other dearly. You never saw one without the other. If the place didnt allow dogs, grandpa didnt

want anything to do with them. He was a very funny man too, his great sense of humor made up for his terrible sense of smell. He knew all too well the effects of him and Bowsers wind breaking habits had on other people. Always with the funny comeback he was. And then came the reading of grandpas will. Grandpa died peacefully in his sleep, still of sound mind and body, almost 90 years old. Smoked a pack a day, usually drank a six pack a day and pickled eggs were always sitting around in various stages of readiness. I bet he ate 6 a day, sometimes even more! (Those really big mayo jars full: 18 jars were in his house the day we gathered for the reading of the will). Grandpa had money, property, land, and an eclectic assortment of very cool possessions, and one sad and lonely and very old English bull dog, Bowser. Grandpas good friend and lawyer had taken possession of Bowser for the 2 weeks leading up to the reading of the will. We all had gathered in grandpas tiny living room and kitchen. He was a tidy man and his house was beautiful. An eclectic collection of amazing things decorated this 900 square foot cottage. The property was just as well kept as the house. He was an amazing handyman and gardener and his home showed his style beautiful. All who had gathered were friends and family, not an enemy among us. A very nice reunion atmosphere developed and a BBQ picnic sort of happened. Eventually the lawyer read the will. Grandpas words were eloquent. They touch all our hearts as we remembered what a great man he was and how much we all dearly loved him. By the time the reading had ended, hardly a dry eye was to be found. Those who

werent crying were about to. The last part of the will was directed to me. I was always his favorite grandson he said. I would visit regularly because I like the company, the eggs, the beer and the dog and nothing else. (This is all paraphrasing grandpas words I know, but I must finish this story.) Grandpa left me a nice chunk of change, the eggs, his entire stock of beer, and Bowser. I was quivering with emotion as his words finished. You could have heard a pin drop. Bowser was lying at my feet and I bent over, patted him on the head and asked How bout that ol fella, youre gonna come live with me Whadaya think of that, huh?! Right on cue, you guessed it, Bowser let out the loudest dog fart you ever heard. The place erupted in laughter! Moments later it got all serious when the aroma began to fill the cramped quarters. Mass evacuation out both front door and back began. Several of the toddlers began crying, youd have thought a submarine dive alarm was sounding off or something! EEE EEE EEE DIVE, DIVE, DIVE!!! ********** The Steamer It's so cold. . . . My wife reminded me last night of the sever cold we experienced the year of our sons birth. 1995. Harrison was 3 months old. My in laws at the time were living in Flagstaff, AZ. (They live way up in Ogden, UT now days). It's a two hour drive up to Flagstaff, but our Christmas eve journey up there took twice that long because of the blizzard that had moved in. Harrison had croup or some such baby issue and refused to stop crying. He was a wreck by the time we got to Grandma & Grandpa's house. Deb and I were too!

Grandma demands her grandson and takes over trying to calm him. 3 minutes later he was sound asleep in Grandma's rocking arms. Debbie breaks out crying. Frustrated Happiness tears I guess. "Come on honey, let's go out to the deck and have a smoke." I tell her. So she and I are out on the patio deck having a smoke. 2 or 3 feet of snow and it's still coming down. The house was brand new and in a wooded community, truly a beautiful place. It was past midnight and the neighborhood was completely quiet. It was bitter cold. Deb has stopped crying and we were enjoying the brisk evening and the falling snow. That lower belly cramp hit... you know what I'm talking about... that "Massive Fart On Deck" cramp. Knowing my wife well, I know a good belly laugh would go over good right about now. Nothing like a belly laugh to make stress disappear. She's sitting about 8 feet away from me on a short stack of firewood. I'm leaning on the guard rail. "Hey honey, I've always wondered: If you fart outside in cold like this, does steam shoot out your ass the way it does when you talk?" and before she could answer I dropped my sweat pants around my knees, exposing a profile of my naked ass, and LET HER RIP. Keep in mind, I couldn't see it, only she could. I was watching her watch me. Her eye's about popped out their sockets and she kicked her head back and roared with laughter. They shook so hard the cord of wood she was sitting on collapsed and sent her sprawling to the deck... laughing hysterically. I yank my pants back up and join her laughter. "Well I guess THAT settles THAT, huh?!" All she could manage was to hold up her hands (like she was showing me the size of a fish she'd just caught) to show me how far the steam had

traveled. It was a good 2 feet! "SERIOUSLY?!?!" I asked. All she could manage was to shake her head yes... she was crying now. Our laughter was going to wake the neighbors and the more we tried to suppress it, the funnier it got. Front door opens and out steps my mother in law, all smiles... she wants to laugh too. "What in the world is so funny?!" she beams. Debbie is almost hyperventilating by this time. She waves her hand and shakes her head NO. I refuse to tell her and that just pisses her off. She demands to know what the hell is so funny! Another cramp knocked at my back door. "OK mom... check this out..." I dropped my pants once again and gave my mother in law a profile of my naked ass and let er' rip. Debbie lost it. Her mom lost it. Door comes swinging open and there stands my father in law all pissed off "KEEP IT DOWN OUT HERE! For Christ sake what the hell is so funny?!" he demands. Mom pushes past him and Deb and I file in behind her and we all go back inside. Dad demanded that next time I felt a good one to let him know so we could go outside and I show him.... we dubbed this activity "Blasting a Steamer" ********** Disturbing the Peace It was a perfect sleeping night. Spring here in Phoenix. It had rained earlier in the evening, but was clear by midnight. I live in a secluded neighborhood, far away from busy streets. At 3 in the morning it's as quiet as a graveyard. With it being in the low 70's out, and fresh rain was in the gently blowing wind, all of our windows in the house were

opened - a snooze-fest of major proportions was in full swing at my house. I woke with a slight lower intestinal cramp. Laid there a bit, whence a bit, re-adjusted my position, and sure enough - "It" was ready to come out. Did a stomach flex and pushed. Bass Trumpet. Best way to describe it. Most likely the loudest fart of my life. My sound asleep wife JERKED awake and cried out "WHAT WAS THAT?!?!" My Golden Retriever JERKED awake and began barking as though Louis Armstrong had broken into the house. Keep in mind - the windows are all opened. My dogs barking woke my second dog up and she too joined in barking at the trumpet player. This in turn woke the neighbors dog.... and you could actually hear the chain reaction of dog barking erupt throughout the neighborhood. I began shaking violently with laughter. And as sick as my wife thought it was, she too began laughing. I told her "Listen to that honey... I woke the entire neighborhood with ONE fart!".... Ten minutes later as we lay in bed, finally quiet again and starring at the ceiling, our walls began flashing red... "WTF?!" I asked. And then a quick flash of bright light flashed through the window. A squad car was slowly passing by, looking for something... "Great! Your fart caused the cops to come out...." my wife dryly stated.... ********** Dental Relief When I was 15, I was in a horrific auto crash. I went through the windshield. One of my many injuries was having my front upper and

lower teeth smashed in. I underwent emergency surgery for a facial fracture and dental reconstruction. Everything turned out hunky dory, I survived n' all.... but my teeth were never the same. I had problem after problem, surgery after surgery..... Here's a technique I always used to get past the pain. Both hands grabbing my belt in front right in the middle, while I wiggled my toes wildly in my shoes.... sounds funny, but it works/worked. One such surgery. I was about 25 or so, and was going in for a root canal. As the Dr. worked, I began noticing that the Novocain wasn't (working). <I have adverse reactions to the drug they use to put you under at the dentists' offices> After several extra injections the Dr. announced that the tooth was infected at the base, I'd have to come back in 2 weeks after the infected root cleared up. "OR..." he said "...you could tough it out for another 2 minutes, I'm almost finished...(?)" and gave me that questioning look. I DID NOT want to come back in 2 weeks...I pondered this for a moment "I have serious meditation skills.... I'm a bad ass....this ain't your first time in this chair...let's get this shit over with!" all went through my mind. "DO IT. FINISH." and I laid my head back, opened my mouth, grabbed my belt buckle and began wiggling my toes. The Dr.' assistant: (His version of our Leann) A newbie, fresh out of tech school. She is terrified but sat there with the suction at the ready. The Dr. began the pain intensified to an alarming level. I was not blocking the pain, I was choosing not to react to it. Sweat began pouring from my brow, tears flowed like water from my eyes. A high pitch ringing in my ears began. My toes were about to burn a hole in

my shoes, I think my socks may have been smoking. Little miss assistant was crying like a baby. Face all contorted, tears flowing almost as bad as mine. And she had LOTS to do too; I was drooling like a mad dog! She held steady though and the Dr. worked fast. 2 or 3 minutes later the Dr. announced "And that's that. Done." . . . Yup, you guessed it...as soon as he said that and shut the drill down, a huge explosive fart broke free from my tightly clenched colon. (Along with several chunks of the chairs vinyl.) All 3 of us busted out laughing. "I am SO sorry!" I said wiping my face. "I almost shit MY pants too! Don't worry about it!" the doctor said, causing us to laugh even harder. Miss Assistant, wiping her tears adds "ME TOO!", more laughing.... They let me lay there for a good 30 minutes to regain my senses. DO NOT try this with your own dentist if you have any concerns about diarrhea. ********** The Chiropractors Oink Toy. My 15 year old son was complaining of a back problem after a minor football injury. I took him to our regular doctor who is also a chiropractor. This would be my sons first chiropractic adjustment. Hed heard me tell the story of how a chiropractor rescued me from weeks of agony with one visit. He wanted the same relief. Lets go see Dr. B. I said. Dr. Battersby has been my sons physician since he was a new born. Hes been my doctor for almost 20 years and I consider him a

friend. He and I are chatting about what movies weve seen lately while he gets Harrison all positioned just right. Once hes lying just so, doc tells Harrison OK, completely exhale for me and when he did, Dr. B. did the hard pump thing and Harrison ripped a huge fart. Like a dogs squeak toy. Only it wasnt a squeak. It was your classic bass like fart. Loud and as foul smelling as they come. All three of us begin laughing, Harrison excuses himself to Dr. B. Doc has him roll over to the other side and as he does so he says Dont worry about it Harrison, happens all the time. I had a lady last week do the same thing only she sprayed poo all over the table and floor! And when he said floor he pumped his back again. Another loud and obnoxious smelling fart. I am so sorry Dr. Battersby! Harrison says. Doc is smiling big and tells him to lay flat on his back. The stench was now unbearable in this tiny exam room and I told Dr. B. Youre on your own buddy, Ill be out in the waiting room! and out the door I went. Harrison was shaking violently with laughter as I left. Moments later the two of them exit the exam room and Harrison is quiet and violently shaking hysterical laughter. He buries his face in his elbow that he leans against the wall while I settle up with the receptionist. Doc has quickly tossed her Harrisons chart and has retrieved a can of air freshener and is exaggeratingly spaying the exam room and hallway. Get him outta here! He says with a mock grossed out look on his face. We got in the car (rolled down the windows) and headed home. He laughed so hard he actually began drooling! It took him a good 30 minutes to regain his composure. In the middle of that 30 minutes I

told him that he reminded me of our dog Boos oinky-pig-toy. It doesnt squeak, it oinks when you squeeze it. . . . ************* Using a Fart As a Political Statement 9/11 was the most tragic day in American history. Certainly nothing I like to joke about. So, Im not joking here. OK? Every anniversary of this horrible day, five times I will aim my ass to Mecca, flex my stomach muscles and holdHeres what I think of your religion of peace and push. Some I will gift with Heres a kiss for you and allah. Or maybe after passing Ill ask Osama Bin Who? It makes that day less painful to bear. Feel free to join me in my salute to those ass holes. **********

The Royal Fart

The question causing great concern in this series of photos is: Did Phillip fart? What the heck, he's almost ninety, and at that age you don't (can't) hold anything back even if you wanted to!

The expressions are priceless! Look at the Queen's face!

A fart is a pleasant thing, It gives the belly ease, It warms the bed in winter, And suffocates the fleas. A fart can be quiet, A fart can be loud, Some leave a powerful,

Poisonous cloud A fart can be short, Or a fart can be long, Some farts have been known To sound like a song...... A fart can create A most curious medley, A fart can be harmless, Or silent, and deadly.

A fart might not smell, While others are vile, A fart may pass quickly, Or linger a while...... A fart can occur In a number of places, And leave everyone there, With strange looks on their faces . From wide-open prairie, To small elevators, A fart will find all of Us sooner or later.

But farts are all bad, Is simply not trueWe must never forget....... Sweet old farts like you! ********** Hair Blaster Its mid morning at the new office Im working at. Im out numbered by women maybe 5 to 1. Its a nice working environment, pleasant people to work with in a nice big cubical maze like office. Im working away and this lower belly grumbling starts. You know that knot like feeling, right? Just below your belt buckle area. You know something bad is on the way. It eases up and I go back to doing my work. A few minutes later its back. Its even worse. I wench. I clench The knot goes away. I am surrounded by well dressed, well mannered ladies whom I do not know that well. Im still the new guy. A few minutes later the cramp is back. I think I now have an idea what a pregnant woman feels when her baby kicks. My baby was now kicking and it wanted out. I get up and quickly make my way to the mens room. I hit the stall door, swung around, dropped my drawers and sat down. In doing so I hit the silencer position and this blast of foul air exploded from my sphincter. Id thought I may have sat on an air cannon. My butt cheeks had formed a tight seal on the seat and the only opening for the blast was through my legs. A small V opening at the front of the seat and directly below my face. I felt the hair on my forehead move! Are you kidding me?!?! I didnt remember eating an air

compressor but apparently I had! Oh My God! The stench was atrocious! I could not help busting out in laughter. I just did a measurement and from my seated position the distance from my crotch to my forehead is 31 inches. 5 inches shy of 3 feet. Youre telling me had I shot the moon to somebody sitting 3 feet away, I would have blown their hair back?!?! How can such a beast grow inside a humans gut?! I do not remember what it was that I ate to give birth to such a thing. Thankfully nobody heard me laughing in there What were you laughing about in the bathroom Harry?! Oh, you do NOT want to know.DO NOT go in there! **********