right before he leaves to get a gallon of jack daniel's

First of all, I was planning on a 200 follower special and started writing this story. I thought 200 farts would be a perfect story for 200 followers… before I got even halfway finished I received 300 followers, so I upped the count. Then 400, ect. I had to stop somewhere and finish the story because there was no way I’d be able to keep up, haha! Thank you all for every follow, like and reblog. 800 followers as of today.


I present to you: Fart Diary.


The Fart Diary


January 20th, 2017

Dear Diary,

I’m gonna start recording my farts on you tomorrow. My doctor thinks I may have a slight gas problem. Did you ever think your diary life would turn to this? Just a diary for a 23 year old guys’s farts? Well, that must suck for you. At least you don’t have a sense of smell. I’m in tears writing this right about now from laughing so hard… or maybe it’s the chili I had tonight…

Yours truly… fartly,
Sean

Dear Diary,

January 21st, 2017, 3:17am
The first fart woke me up. I may have farted in my sleep, you never know. When I was in college my dorm mate told me I did it in my sleep quite often. This one was rather loud, and the sheets stunk like rotten eggs. That’s rather odd because I don’t eat my deviled eggs until breakfast…

January 21st, 2017, 3:19am
I went to the restroom to pee, I had a lot of Jack Daniels yesterday evening after the doctor’s appointment. I drank even more Guinness and knew that I’d be sick if I didn’t drink at least twice as much water as alcohol. After one and a half gallons (!) I went to bed. It was a good thing I didn’t piss the sheets. The second fart started right with the pee stream. It lasted a good number of seconds after. But it was one of my longest urinations I could remember. If only I had some pizza with that beer, I probably could have topped it. I bet it lasted over a minute.

January 21st, 2017, 3:23am
After relieving myself I headed right to bed. I stood over my sheets and smelled the former fart of the morning. I decided not to plant this next one in the sheets and I ripped a decent size short 3 second fart. With the same rotten egg smell as before it topped off the faded fart scent. I only farted three times when I woke up. They say morning farts are your gassiest time of the day. See… nothing to worry about.

Yours fartly,
Sean

Dear Diary

January 21st, 2017, 6:01am
I got out of bed to start the day and ripped my fourth fart. Even muffled into my bed it was loud. I head one of my roommates, Tony, yell from the kitchen that Morgan’s alarm was ready. Morgan, my other roommate apparently wakes up to my morning thunder. This fart just kinda smelled like my sweaty butt so the egg smell is gone. I’m gonna head into the kitchen now.

Yours Fartly,
Sean

Dear Diary,

January 21st, 2017, 6:10am
I walked up to Tony and laid a HUGE ripper on him. It was a three-peat. Farts 5, 6 and 7 reverberated on his butt cheek as he screamed my name and slapped me on the back. It was worth it. I marked him with my butt scent while he was fixing us oatmeal on the stove.

January 21st, 2017, 6:12am
Morgan walked in not too soon after and smelled the carnage. He laughed at me and I ran up to him and planted a nice small 2 second fart on his stomach. He tried pushing me away but I stayed firm against him to let out fart number 9 as well. He tried grabbing me to retaliate and pushed out one of his farts. It wasn’t on me but it was at me. Tony backed his butt into our area and ripped one too. He wafted into my face and I declared war. I pushed out my 10th fart. A monster. It went on for over a minute and both guys were in awe, and in fear. I cleared out that kitchen with my sweaty butt scented fart as they both ran into their rooms to hide from the stink. They should have smelled the ones from earlier this morning. They had work at 8 today so I’d have the whole place to myself. I ate all of Tony’s oatmeal since he abandoned it, and started on a few of my deviled eggs. I started the day with about a dozen. I didn’t wanna eat too much because I’m about to go run around the block.

Yours Fartly,
Sean

January 21st, 2017, 9am

Dear Diary,
I’m writing this after my run and shower. It all started after I finished breakfast at 7am. I get to my sidewalk and start to jog in place to warm up. The bouncing made my tummy rumble and a decent fart sneaked out. The smell was horrendous. Sort of like the eggy ones that reeked havoc in my room this morning. Those deviled eggs sure do pack a quick punch. I knew I had to start running right away because another neighbor was leaving the house to start her run too. I bolt away and my 12th fart escapes my ass. I’m a fast runner, however  must say it’s still impressive to me that a fart can last from my house to 5 houses down before it stops. I keep running our little neighborhood circle and let out another fart, number 13. Number 14 seeps out too. Something about running must really lengthen the timing of your farts. If I let these out in my house, my roommates would be moving out faster than rats on a sinking ship. I run into the lady as she’s running in the opposite direction. She’s about to get hit with the smell of death. My 15th fart shot out silently. Which was good because it’s so impolite to fart in front of women strangers. I think all the fun things in life are called impolite sometimes… I finish off that final half of the circle letting out two different farts that pretty much last the whole half of the third mile neighborhood. Numbers 16 and 17 would be met by that lady as soon as she crossed my path again. She looked sickened and when we crossed paths she mentioned that someone in the neighborhood had a sewage leak somewhere. I had to agree with her. It was me, but it wasn’t our house’s septic tank. I cross paths with her a few more times and mention that the smell was spreading thought the whole neighborhood. She must have stopped running by mile 2, which was good because the poor girl was turning green. I kept going for about 8 miles. My gas started dying down so by the time I finished my first mile I was at 19 farts, Mile 2 I was at 23, mile 3 I was at 26, mile 4 I was at 27, mile 5 I was at 28, mile 6 I was at 29, mile 7 I was at 34. mile 8 I was at 36 farts. A good morning run always clears your belly out.
I walk into my empty house and smile. The roommates have gone off to their second jobs to pay their bills. The perks of being a nerdy computer programmer is that you’re well off enough to afford rent without two jobs. I hopped into the shower and started lathering up when another fart wanted to come out. You know those shower farts smell HORRIBLE. The steam intensifies the smell. That one was no joke. It burned my lungs and damn near choked me to death. It didn’t help that fart number 38 followed shortly after. I had to end my shower early, my roommates were fortunate enough to be at work with these puppies. Fart number 39 was a giant one too. Half a minute of wind escaped my ass when it hit me, “I forgot to wash my butt” That means while I’m writing this, every time I fart I’m getting hit with that sour, ripe sewage smell that’s only getting worse.

Yours Fartly,
Sean

Dear Diary,

January 21st, 2017, 9:12am

While writing that last journal entry I ripped 14 farts, I didn’t wanna make that last entry too long so I made a new one. Half of them were small little ones, about 3 seconds long a piece. The other 7 lasted from 10 to 40 seconds long. It’s hard to write when you’re pushing out a fart. It’s also hard to keep track of your blasts when you have to count them. I’m gonna have to write a lot faster today. It stinks in here so I’m gonna go. I’m at 53 farts right now. Is that a lot?

Yours Fartly,
Sean

Dear Diary,

January 21st, 2017, 10:10am

Taylor just came over, he’s been my friend for years. He called around 9:30 and he’s just gonna chill. I saved up all my gas until he arrived. Something about farting on the human body is fun to me. Especially when they struggle. Taylor was toast the minute he stepped foot in the door I shook his hand, hugged his chest. then grasped his hand tighter and flipped my leg around him to pull him in closer. His head went right into my ass on my first rip. 15 seconds long. It was great. I kept him there for two more smaller blasts that made him cough up a lung. Taylor should be used to my little games by now so I told him about the fart diary. He was a little scared at my count of 56. As the normal human farts 16 times in a whole day. That shocked me because I do more than that in my first 3 hours waking up; that’s not including the first 3 I did before I woke up for the day. I’m writing this while sitting next to him since he’s cool with it and all. I told him I’m not holding back today and he said it’s fine. His funeral.

Yours Fartly,

Sean

Dear Diary,

January 21st, 2017, 10:28am

I’ve been ripen’ some rank gas these past few minutes. I leaned towards Taylor and blasted off a decent 5 second fart as he got startled and scooted away. It definitely broke his concentration on the Netflix series we were watching. I scooted up closer to him and wrapped my arm around his shoulder. I pushed slightly and let out a longer fart deep into the couch cushions. These cushions have met so many of mine and my roommates farts that I’m sure they would be better judge on how bad my gas is than any doctor. The third fart in this entry was one that I lifted my butt off the couch for to sit on Taylor’s leg. The 60th fart was silent, but I made sure he smelled that puppy up good. I asked him if I could watch the movie from his comfy lap… I don’t think he liked that idea very much.

Yours Fartly,

Sean

Dear Diary,

January 21st, 2017, 11am

Taylor was reading my entries for a good bit while I was getting my meal from the kitchen. Nothing much, just a can of beans and the remaining 4 dozen deviled eggs. I’m currently at fart 83. Most of them were just small little ones that I kept aiming and wafting Taylor’s way. He doesn’t put up as much of a struggle compared to my roommates. That’s why we’re good friends. A man that can handle another man’s gas and not give a rip. As I’m writing I’m about to rip fart number 84. I’m about to act like I’m getting up. This one’s gonna be goooooood.

Yours fartly,

Sean

Dear Diary,

January 21st, 2017, 11:05am

That was amazing! He’s a little red in the face right now and can’t even look at me but he’ll come around. I warned him that I wasn’t holding back. I pretended to walk over to the fridge for a drink and then I just threw my butt backwards and hit his face. He didn’t even struggle for the first few seconds but MAN did he thrash when I let the fart out. It was about 8 seconds long and I swear it sounded possessed. I held his stomach down with my foot as I warned him he better get up quick. His muffled screams were met by my 85th fart of the day. I’m on a roll! I know we’re watching a movie, but I’m not even sure what it’s about. This is just fun! I got up from his face and he told me never to do that again. While he was talking I started up another fart, 86. He laughed a little bit but then looked away and just focused on the movie. It sure does stink in here. At least he hasn’t complained about that yet. I’m gonna have to set up my next plan of attack.

Yours Fartly,

Sean

Dear Diary,

January 21st, 2017, 11:30am

I’m currently pretending to be using the bathroom while Taylor’s in the living room. I think I saw a boner in his pants but I wasn’t quite sure. I kept lifting my ass up and letting out a fart and every time I would rip I would count and he would whine. At one point I swore he started fanning his nose while breathing in deep. His breath was getting heavy and his nervous twitching started coming back. He hasn’t had those in 5 or 6 years so I was getting a little worried. I’ve farted 19 more times since this diary entry I’m writing, all aimed at Taylor. He’s a lucky man to pick today to hang out with me. 105 farts today and he’s been gifted with about half of them.

P.S: When you sit on a toilet seat, even with sweats on, the gas just flies out of you I ripped three just sitting here writing this entry. They were all over 10 seconds long. This diary thing is the best thing I’ve ever done! Focusing on my farts is the funniest thing ever. I’m 108 in now and loving it. I’m almost 100 above the daily average before noon.

Yours Fartly,

Sean

Dear Diary,

January 21st, 12:00pm

I did it! I beat the daily average by over 100 farts and it’s not even noon! I started at the sink, I washed my hands after pretending to use the bathroom. As I bent to scrub them clean a fart shot out like a firework. It was quick and sharp. Unlike pretty much all of my other farts. If I controlled them and let out tiny farts I know I’d be in the 1000’s already. But that’s not how I operate. Get it all out at once. 109.
I walk out and head to Taylor. Joke about how he shouldn’t go in there for an hour, but he runs inside. Must have been an emergency. As he passed by one of my long SBDs I thought I heard heavy sniffs. He must be immune to my gas by now. I walk in to the living room and finish off the food I had on the table. Those beans and deviled eggs are delicious, diary. The farts continue to rip out of me and into the couch as I hoist myself up from 110 to 115. The garbage scent from this morning has quickly started gaining some egg and skunk like qualities to it. Taylor was gonna come back to a war zone.
I had no idea how long Taylor had been in there, but I heard some moaning. About 10 till I walk up to the bathroom door and ask him if he’s alright, he acts startled from behind the door. I told him to listen to my next fart and place my ass on the door, it went on for about 12 seconds, that thing was pretty loud. I finish it off with a second fart that went even longer though. Twenty seconds of gas shot out of my rear and attacked the wooden door that separated Taylor and I. I heard moaning. Taylor must be in pain from his dump. The heavy breathing continues as seems to be really struggling. His foot seemed to be stomping the floor as he ended with another scream. I asked him if he was through and he said yeah. He flushed and walked out to a smell. Mine. His didn’t even puncture the smell of gas I let out in that bathroom. That’s how bad my farts are. I grab his shoulders and hold him against a wall as I let out another blast, this one only like 2 seconds. Then another, this one only half that size. Taylor started to struggle and that’s when it happened; I release possibly one of the longest farts of my life. Taylor minutes long of pure skunk. Taylor was crying, begging to go home. I let him out and celebrate. That was fart number 120 and it was only 11:59. Taylor laughed at my excitement but really pushed me off of him to go home. There was a wet spot on his britches. I must have really startled him with that blast. I asked him if he wanted to come back tonight if he felt a little better. He told me yes… if my gas died down a bit. I made him no promises as he walked out the door. It sure does stink in here now.

Yours Fartly,
Sean

Dear Diary,
January 21st, 1:00pm

I’m about to head to the gym, but MAN the gas keeps flying. I’m sitting here at my desk writing and drinking my protein shake, and the wooded chair sure does amplify the sound of my gas. I shut the door when Taylor left and lifted my leg for fart 121. It had a pretty good base. My roommates would have been impressed. My roomy Morgan is so irresponsible. He leaves his clothes in the washer all day and comes back for them later. But Tony and I can’t do our own laundry when he does that. I don’t mind pulling dirty undies out from time to time to reuse, but Tony will pull his clothes out and toss them on the floor. That’s when it hit me… I opened the washer and stuck my ass in and let rip my 122nd fart, it was silent and long, but the wetness of the clothes amplified the smell. I topped it off with two more blasts, the final one making a trumpet noise. Then I closed the washer to seal in the stink. The dryer was next I pushed out some more blasts, about 5 small ones, and shut the top. It then hit me: heat! I put it through another dry cycle at high heat and ensure that when Morgan opens it he’s in for some mad hell.
For now I guess I’m going to the gym in these used undies from last week. My ass already smells today though so I guess it’s no biggie. While writing this blog at the desk I’m currently at fart number 144.

Yours fartly,
Sean

Dear Diary,

January 21st, 3pm

The gym sure was crowded. I couldn’t find an open bench. So I had to make one. I walk over to the free weights and let rip a nasty silent one. I think it air dried the scent of my used underwear because it went everywhere. Two women doing tricep extensions left the wondering who farted in disgust, a guy walking behind me got a yoga ball and went to the other side of the gym. I blamed him for the smell as the other 7 men grimaced. We have 4 benches and I just need one. I let out fart 146 near one of the benches as the guy finishes his set, but he continues his next set after walking to the weight rack and upping the weights. I thought I had him pretty good. The one of the two older men start coughing and tell their buddy to head to the machines. They were doing standing bicep curls so that wasn’t any help to me. Fart 147 was the lucky one. It was silent, hot, and made the whole crowd gag. 4 of the men vacated the area and left 3 open benches. They all laughed as they vacated and the remaining guy called out “I guess one of them were gassing the place up.” I laughed and agreed telling him they smelled worse than my neighborhood’s sewer leak this morning. Coincidentally he encountered that same sewer smell one street down from my circle. Those morning farts really carried today! I sit down at one of the three newly opened benches and it hit me… today was chest day. I needed the incline bench that that one guy was sitting at. I start using an open one as a regular press and after my 3rd rep a loud fart shoots out, I say fuck it and the 4th rep another fart shoots out. Without break I let out farts with each rep all the way up to rep 15. That made my count 160, if only that scared young man on the bench new what he was about to get himself into if he didn’t leave. I start my next set at a higher weight, and repeat the maneuver. 175 farts. That young 19 year old kept staring. I think a tear hit his face as he processed the smell. He tried to continue his workout. I walked over to him and sat on his face. I ripped three very silent blasts of gas that lasted at least 5 seconds a piece. I warned him that if he didn’t get off of my bench that I’d stink up his yard for the rest of his life. He ran out of the gym. I left that free weigh station virtually uninhabitable for the rest of my workout. 183 farts in and it was time to leave. But not before crop-dusting the entire treadmill area with one of my minute long sbd’s.

I sat in the car and I think bending over made another one come out. It was pretty foul but I don’t mind my own brand. In fact I kept the windows up during the ride home. Red light, fart number 186, sharp curve, fart number 187, stuck in traffic, fart number 188, 189, 190, 191, 192, 193, 194, 195, 196, 197, 198, and 199! I was pretty disappointed I couldn’t get out fart number 200 before I got home.

Yours fartly,

Sean

Dear Diary,

January 21st, 2017, 4pm

As soon as I got home I saw a plumber at one of my neighbor’s houses. They dug up the damn sewer line and you could tell they were confused as they couldn’t find the problem. It was quite the prideful experience. My farts stunk up the neighborhood so bad that my neighbors thought their septic tank busted. I wish by roommates were here to witness it. I started jogging around the neighborhood again and every time I passed by the plumbers I let out some loud gas. It’s actually getting pretty fun using my farts as a weapon to incite fear, however I don’t even think they were paying attention. After 2 miles and 6 farts later (205!) I stopped at my house, right in front of my neighbors with the septic tank and began to stretch. Bend over… silent ripper… damn it was a long one. Leg lifts… hot steamy gas flowed from my ass. It literally burned. Next I started doing some hip rotations and every pelvic thrust I let rip another batch of gas. One minute into it and on fart number 15 (222!) I begin hearing the plumbers complain that the smell is getting worse… let me reiterate that they are standing above an open septic tank trying to repair it! My roommates will get home soon. I’ll have to give them a surprise.

Yours fartly,

Sean

Dear Diary

January 21st, 6pm

Tony just got home about half an hour ago. As soon as he walked in the smell hit him. My stale fart smell lingers quite a bit. I actually didn’t do that many after I came inside just about 8 and they were pretty small, it was an even 230 farts when Tony walked in. I like even numbers.
I told him about the farts in the washing machine. He busted out laughing and decided to challenge me to a fart off. He twisted his leg and ripped a fart aimed at my thigh, some guys are so weird…
I ripped one that doubled his fart power. As he got a whiff he soon realized that that wretched smell from outside was coming from me. I don’t think mine have ever carried that much power!
Were currently sitting in the living room waiting for Morgan to get home.

Yours fartly,

Sean

Dear Diary,

January 21st, 6:15pm

Morgan just got home and was hit by the smell. I chuckled a bit as he ran to the laundry room. I heard screaming as the smell hit him. That’s what he deserves for hogging the washer.

6:20pm

Morgan thought I cummed in the bathroom. I told him the last one to use it was Taylor… but he was avoiding my farts… I think that little shit likes it… I should call him up tonight for a round 2. I grabbed the back of Morgan’s head and tried bringing him down to my butt for a fart, but he escaped my grip before fart number 232 spread to his nose. I’ll get him good soon.

Your’s fartly,

Sean

Dear Diary

January 21st, 7:00pm

Me and my roommates have been eating as many gassy foods as we’ve had in the kitchen. A few take out places are delivering too. I asked them if they thought Taylor was jacking off because of my farts. Morgan said he’s seen the guy blush when I farted around him. Tony said he thought he saw Taylor pick up some of my undies a few months ago. I think the ones that went missing a few months ago were my favorite. I’m gonna be getting those back. I’m gonna do something different, a contest, when Taylor comes over tonight I’m gonna make a long entry and just record the farts we all rip on him. I’ll be sure to notate some of the more impressive ones. I’m holding in all my gas right now. I don’t know how some people hold it in for hours, some just blew out of me 25 minutes ago and covered the whole living room I feel this next one is gonna be even worse. They aren’t used to staying put this long. I hope Tay gets here soon.

Yours fartly,

Sean

Dear Diary,

January 21st, 7:10pm

I’m currently sitting on Taylor’s face. It’s a little weird, but I hope he’s regretting jacking off to my fart fumes. Fart 234 was brilliant. It flowed out of my ass with a pressure that made him scream. Tay was kicking and bucking but something else was trying to lift off too. Morgan pointed at his hard on through his jeans with one hand and covering his nose with the other. Tony thought the room got 10 degrees warmer. I laughed and said I was gonna be even worse tonight after holding these in for over an hour. So fart diary, think of this as a live blog on paper. I just ripped my second and third fart of the contest. Fart number 235 & 236. Taylor’s trying to push me off of him. Tony wants a turn so I guess I have to get up…

Tony let’s one out Me: 3, Tony: 1, Morgan: 0
Morgan farts on his chest! Me: 3, Tony: 1, Morgan: 1
Tony rips! Me: 3, Tony: 2, Morgan: 1
I let out another! Me: 4, Tony: 2, Morgan: 1
And another. Me: 5, Tony: 2, Morgan: 1
And another. Me: 6, Tony: 2, Morgan: 1
And another. Me: 7, Tony: 2, Morgan: 1
And another. Me: 8, Tony: 2, Morgan: 1
And another. Me: 9, Tony: 2, Morgan: 1
And another. Me: 10, Tony: 2, Morgan: 1, I think Tay is whimpering’ now…
Tony tries aiming one at me but I get away. Me: 10, Tony: 3, Morgan: 1
The smell is getting pretty bad, I guess that’s what happens when a house of dudes eat beans to fart all night.
Tony fires off another. Me: 10, Tony: 4, Morgan: 1
Morgan rips one. Me: 10, Tony: 4, Morgan: 2
Tony plants his ass on Tay’s chest and lets out two more! Me: 10, Tony: 6, Morgan: 2
I let two out. Me: 12, Tony: 6, Morgan: 2
Morgan let out one. Me: 12, Tony: 6, Morgan: 3
Tony let out a pretty big 5 second fart (big on his own scale, I’ve done plenty of those today.) Me: 12, Tony: 7, Morgan: 3
I let out 4 farts on Tay’s face, he cried when he sees me walk over to him. Me: 15, Tony: 7, Morgan: 3
Morgan takes a turn. Me: 15, Tony: 7, Morgan: 4
I return with 5 more farts. Me: 20, Tony: 7, Morgan: 4, the smell is getting foul in here. I have to let more out to fill the room with my own brand. I think we’ll all try doing them same, everyone likes their own brand. They’ll never beat me.
Tony let out another fart. Morgan did too but it was away from Taylor. What a waste… Me: 20, Tony: 8, Morgan: 5
I farted twice in Taylor’s nose. Me: 22, Tony: 8, Morgan: 5
Tony walked up to fart on Taylor. I grabbed him and farted on his thigh, then I moved to Morgan and farted in his direction. Tony let out a tiny one on Taylor. I think he’s getting weaker. Me: 24, Tony: 9, Morgan: 5
Tony and Morgan are now complaining about my stink. I make 10 slow steps to Taylor, each one I let out a pretty big fart. Taylor looked scared. I sat on his face while the other guys started to gag. 4 farts to his nose. They were huge! Me: 38, Tony: 9, Morgan: 5
Morgan noticed Taylor’s dick rising. I think it’s confirmed he likes it. He’s my friend so I guess whatever floats his boat. Morgan sat down on his face and ripped one, then as he was getting up he felt another one and sat back down. It was sort of tiny. Me: 38, Tony: 9, Morgan: 7
Tony got up to let some out on Taylor’s face. Morgan ripped one in my face while pretending to sit back down. I’m retaliating by sitting on his lap and farting while writing this…
Tony let out 2 more farts. I notice a small patch of wetness form in Taylor’s pants. I think he peed. Me: 38, Tony: 11, Morgan: 8
I let my 6th fart out on Morgan’s leg, he’s tearing up and trying to buck me off his lap. Sucker. Me: 44, Tony: 11, Morgan: 8
We asked Taylor if it was smelly under Tony’s ass, he mumbled yes. Tony ripped another one before I ran up to Taylor and traded spots. Tony and Morgan went to the kitchen to refuel. That gives me some time to get a bigger lead. I’m crushing them. It’s only been one hour…

I push Taylor on his side with his head against the arm of the couch. My ass is pointed just two inches away. I let out a fart. I hear Tony say he’s getting some beers and nachos made up. I ask them for a beer but they refused. I’ll still beat them. This next fart was silent, but Taylor kind of moaned and sniffed it. He’s so weird right now. I just let out a loud one to top off the smell. It was one of those dry airy ones that sound like a bunch of gas came out at once. Taylor’s starting to cry, that wet spot in his britches is getting larger. But what’s also getting larger is my gas. The next one just honked out of me like a horn. The guys are beginning to smell it in the next room as they chomp down their nachos. I reach into the couch cushions and pull out some of my hidden snacks; dried apricots and fiber one bars. These guys are gonna not only lose. I’m gonna humiliate them. I grab Taylor’s head and push it into my ass as I let out 2 more blasts. I made sure he saw all my new fart fuel as I devour the 4 fiber bars and bag of apricots. I pushed a pretty big one into the couch cushions as he stared and shivered. He’s lucky that one wasn’t on his face.

The score is 51 to 12 to 8 as we decide to go on until midnight. Given that it’s just 8:30 I think our buddy Taylor is gonna be in for some stink and some pretty wet & creamy britches for the rest of the night. The guys return from the kitchen and I pounce on Morgan and rip a fart, he fires back at me while I grab Tony for another rip, then another. Taylor was watching us act like fools.

Me: 53, Tony: 12, Morgan: 9, Morgan took a turn and sat on Taylor’s face, I ran up to him and farted on his while he was ass level sitting down. Morgan ripped two farts that sounded quite powerful though short. He commented that the nachos were kicking in. I think he was a little shit faced from the beer too.

Me: 54, Tony: 12, Morgan: 11, I really needed to rip but Tony begged for a turn. I just used Morgan’s stomach and held him against a wall… Morgan so much weaker than me he couldn’t move. I let out 5 farts on his stomach and Tony ripped two farts on Taylor’s chest. I just pushed my butt into Morgan’s stomach making him let out a fart against the wall. I pushed it out of him and broke out in laughter that I farted too. I turned him around and farted on his butt. I think the next time he lets one rip Taylor’s only gonna smell my gas from his pants.

Me: 61, Tony: 14, Morgan: 12: Morgan sat down next and ripped some on Taylor’s chest. The score is now Me: 61, Tony: 14, Morgan: 15

Poor Taylor had to smell the fumes I left on Morgan’s ass when Morgan sat down, but now he’s getting the real source… I let out three pretty big farts on his face. Tony wanted a turn, but I pause him. He didn’t know any better, but I was letting out an SBD. I swear that thing lasted over 20 seconds. I stand up and Taylor’s passed out.

Me: 65, Tony: 14, Morgan: 15, Tony waits for Taylor to wake up while myself and Morgan have a little fart war of our own. I swear he’s starting to think he can compete with me. He’s improving though. He let out 6 farts while I beat him with 15. Tony is losing some of his ground, but Taylor just woke up… we’ll give him a turn.

Me: 76, Tony: 14, Morgan: 21, Tony immediately sat on Taylor’s face and busted out some gas. the first three were small. but the next two were pretty sizable. But what’s really noticeable is the smell. Those nachos are starting to stink up the room.

Me: 76, Tony: 19, Morgan: 21, I taunted Taylor and reminded him that even though the average man farts 16 times a day, we all surpassed that in 2 hours time. He’s walked into a factory of fart kings! The first fart shot out pretty fast, but the rest came out slow and silent. Morgan and Tony began dry heaving when the smell hit their nose. It was a burning sulphuric smell. Taylor’s still under there. The second one burned on it’s exit, 10 seconds of fury. Taylor took a whiff and suffered the consequences with a coughing fit. He was screaming into my ass. The third was was more muffled but you couldn’t really hear it. That was the point the smell hit my roomies’ noses. The fourth was the longest and I wafted it towards Morgan who ran over to the other side of the room. One minute later I ended it and let out a fifth. This one finally made noise. Taylor began hitting against my back to fight me off, but that caused more farts to hit the tank. I felt like they were getting louder… six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen. Morgan and Tony both left the room as it was getting really bad. Right now I’m just sitting on Taylor’s lap and releasing some SBDs and rips on his thigh. I’m waiting for the guys to build up the strength to tolerate the room. Fuck I’m nasty. I think the doc was right…

Me: 99, Tony: 19, Morgan: 21, the guys finally came back and Morgan begged for a turn. His fart was pretty good. Taylor began sniffing some new smells which I think he enjoyed. Morgan got up and ripped one at me. Big mistake. I grabbed him by the waist and hoisted him behind my back and let em rip. Three farts right in his face as I held him upside down against my ass. He farted near my face while I held him there so he got me back pretty good. Tony let out one small one as Taylor had to sniff it in. He pushed and pushed and didn’t have another. It’s like the nachos made him less gassy.

Me: 102, Tony: 20, Morgan: 24, I pushed Tony aside and fell on Taylor’s face and ripped a huge one. Tony wasted one by farting next to Morgan. My next one made Taylor scream again. The muffled scream felt really weird against my cheeks…

Me: 104, Tony: 21, Morgan: 24, we have two hours to go.

Tony ripped one, I ripped 3, Morgan ripped two. Me: 107, Tony: 22, Morgan: 26
Morgan ripped three, I ripped 4, I think Tony ran out.  Me: 111, Tony: 22, Morgan: 29
Morgan ripped one that made ME wince, I let out three, including one on his face. I saved the other two for Tay.  Me: 114, Tony: 22, Morgan: 30
Tony finally let out 2. I got 5 and Morgan got 3.  Me: 119, Tony: 24, Morgan: 33
Morgan got 5, I got 4, Tony’s out. (Morgan actually beat me in a round!  Me: 123, Tony: 24, Morgan: 38
Morgan got two, I got eight, Tony got 1. Me: 131, Tony: 25, Morgan: 40

It was the final hour and Taylor’s pants were soaked down to the knee. I didn’t know you could cum that much. I’m at 367 farts for the day and the whole house smells like sewer, skunks, and rotten eggs. I think all our lungs are burning. I’m gonna sign out for the night. You know I won this challenge.

Yours fartly,

Sean

Dear Diary,

January 22nd, 2017. 8am

It was a wild night last night. Taylor finally got to go home. I let out 5 more farts on his face before challenging my roommates to a contest. They had to fart on Taylor the most or get farted on by me. Morgan was blowing Tony out of the water. I don’t know what got into him, but he’s never farted that much before. Usually Tony’s my “competition”. While Morgan let out dozens of farts on Taylor’s faceI got an idea… instead of just torturing one of them tonight, why not all three? I grab both there heads and lock all their heads into my legs. Fart number 373 met their noses and felt them all try and buck me off the couch. I think my gas made them weaker. It was a glorious finale to my day. Morgan and Taylor will never forget the day a skinny tech nerd gassed them out of house and home. I ended that contest with 163 farts, Morgan got 64, and Tony got 31. Morgan’s getting pretty good, but as you know I love even numbers. I sent Tay home and when I shut the door I grabbed both roomies and planted my final two farts of the night. One on Tony for 30 seconds, it burned coming out and I’m pretty sure I opened a hole in his lung with that heat. He crawled to his bedroom coughing and sputtering. I wrestled Morgan to the floor for the final fart of the night. It went over a minute. The poor guy is still asleep on the floor after passing out. 400 farts. 400 farts in one day. Damn I’m better than I thought!

Yours fartly,

Sean

Dear Diary,

January 23rd, 2017, 4:30pm

The doctor told me this wasn’t what he meant when he mentioned a fart diary… he was also a little sickened and worried about my sadistic measures toward my roommates. I took the pills he wanted me to take, but I think I’m gonna give them to Morgan to lower my competition in the house. This will be my last entry, I know just the person that’ll love to keep you forever, Tay. I’m signing this one out with an SBD directly on the page. Hopefully you smell it Tay!

Yours Fartly,

Sean

Pacific Ocean Blues (excerpt)

I lock up the liquor store after my usual Saturday night shift at 2AM. I take a fifth of Jack Daniels from the shelf, a six pack of Michelob from the cooler and two packs of cigarettes and shove them in a brown paper bag. I set the alarm with my free hand and walked out the back door, locking it with hard click. Turning around, I see the drunken fuck that I waved away from the front door at 1:55. He’s standing a car length away me, both of us sizing each other up.

He slurs at me, ”Fucker…there was still some time”

“I don’t make up what time we close, man, the state does”

“Bullshit” he cried.

I reach into my bag and pulled out two bottles of beer and stood them on the ground between us.

“That’s it, man.  I don’t know how they got there and I didn’t sell them to you and now I’m leaving…cool?”

“Yeah”, he said in a whisper, leaning to pick them up.  

I get in the car and slide everything under the front seat. I haven’t slept in two days. I traded a regular customer two bottles of Chivas Regal for a gram of coke night before last. I graduated from high school this summer. I’m eighteen and I like it. It looks like I’m majoring in business without a schedule of classes. An hour before closing, I open up a half gallon of orange juice and pour a third of down the sink. I pour a half pint of Cuervo Gold into the plastic jug, following it with some grenadine and shaking it hard. I’ve done this before. It’s the traveling Tequila Sunrise mix. Tonight it didn’t make it to the car. I’m still steady.

I’ll need to drive roughly 2.5 miles on city streets before I make it to Interstate 10.  After 2AM, it’s nothing but cops and robbers, cops and killers, and cops and drunks. It’s only the cops I ever worry about. I’m trying to time my acceleration to avoid sitting at a red light. It’s usually somewhere between 28 and 32 mph that keeps you moving. A half a block ahead, I can see a black and white sitting at the light. Fuck. Nowhere to turn. Tail light is out. If I pull behind him I run the risk of looking like I’ve got something to hide. I slowly pull beside him on the right turning my head to look right at him with a smile at the ready. It’s Sgt. Clay. Every month on the 1st, he pops in and my boss hands him an envelope. I asked the the older clerks about it once. They told me not to worry about it. I’m not worried. These are the same clerks who leave early every night and let a minor lock up a liquor store alone. Clay looks over without smiling and raises his chin to me as if to say, “What’s up?”.  I follow in kind. The light turns green as he pulls forward and I veer right toward the on-ramp. It’s 20 miles or 20 minutes to my girlfriend’s place in Mar Vista. The road is dark and open wide when an Impala and a Camaro go tearing by at twice my speed. A shotgun blasts a blaze of buck and light out of the Impala, missing the Camaro that makes a hard right onto the 101. It’s the end of an endless summer and the livin’ is uneasy.