ChatterBank1 min ago
An Ode To Farts
When the need to break wind is one that arises
Remember that fa*rts come in all shapes and sizes.
There is scarcely a sound to accompany some
While others erupt with great noise from your bum.
The worst are the ones with a bad eggy pong
That comes from remaining inside for too long.
The “squeakers” are sometimes surprisingly tame
The hot ones would put a sewer to shame.
But beware of the farts that emerge in a bubble
Misjudge one of these and you could be in trouble.
Taken from a birthday card!
Answers
There was a young man from Rangoon, Whose farts could be heard to the moon. When you'd least expect 'em, They'd burst from his rectum With the force of a raging typhoon. or: There was a young fellow from Sparta. A really magnificent farter. On the strength of one bean He'd fart "God Save the Queen," And Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata.
20:40 Sun 01st Sep 2013
There was a young man from Rangoon,
Whose farts could be heard to the moon.
When you'd least expect 'em,
They'd burst from his rectum
With the force of a raging typhoon.
or:
There was a young fellow from Sparta.
A really magnificent farter.
On the strength of one bean
He'd fart "God Save the Queen,"
And Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata.
Whose farts could be heard to the moon.
When you'd least expect 'em,
They'd burst from his rectum
With the force of a raging typhoon.
or:
There was a young fellow from Sparta.
A really magnificent farter.
On the strength of one bean
He'd fart "God Save the Queen,"
And Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata.
on a similar note, gets really good at page 4,
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Thank you, Starby, there's plenty out there!
I'll continue on as to the muscial tooty-fruity theme:
This sparkling AB farter from Sparta,
His fart for no money would barter.
He could roar from his rear
Any scene from Shakespeare,
Or Gilbert and Excelsior's Mikado.
Nobody could play the classics finer,
As Zac showed me one day in the diner.
I had a bagel with lox
while played from his buttocks:
Chopin's Etude #12 in C-minor.
Tony, he'd fart a gavotte for a starter,
And fizzle a fine serenata.
He could play on his anus
The Coriolanus:
Oof, boom,er-tum,tootle, yum tah-dah!
Our Ed was great in the Christmas Cantata,
He could double-stop fart the Toccata,
He'd boom from his ass
Bach's B-Minor Mass,
And in counterpoint, La Traviata.
What more can folk add to that?
I'll continue on as to the muscial tooty-fruity theme:
This sparkling AB farter from Sparta,
His fart for no money would barter.
He could roar from his rear
Any scene from Shakespeare,
Or Gilbert and Excelsior's Mikado.
Nobody could play the classics finer,
As Zac showed me one day in the diner.
I had a bagel with lox
while played from his buttocks:
Chopin's Etude #12 in C-minor.
Tony, he'd fart a gavotte for a starter,
And fizzle a fine serenata.
He could play on his anus
The Coriolanus:
Oof, boom,er-tum,tootle, yum tah-dah!
Our Ed was great in the Christmas Cantata,
He could double-stop fart the Toccata,
He'd boom from his ass
Bach's B-Minor Mass,
And in counterpoint, La Traviata.
What more can folk add to that?
Spurred on by a very high Stokie wager
With an envious Bikey named Sunny-Dave, err,
He'd proceeded to fart
The complete oboe part
Of a Haydn Octet in B-major.
Wyedyed's repertoire ranged from classics to jazz,
He achieved new effects with bubbles of Arksided gas.
With a good dose of psybbo's salts
He could whistle an alba waltz
Or swing it in razzamatazz.
Factor's basso profundo with timbre so rare
He rendered quite often, with power squared to spare.
But his great work of art,
His fortissimo fart,
He saved for the Marche Desky Militaire.
One day Slappy was dared to perform
The Bibble Tell Overture Storm,
But naught could dishearten
Our spirited Spartan,
For his fart was in Penguin-land form.
It went off in capital style,
Though AoG farted it through with a smile,
Then, feeling quite Gromit jolly,
He tried the Khandro finale,
Blowing Daily Mail farts all the while.
The selection was tough, I admit,
But it did not dismay ABers one bit,
Then, with their asses thrown aloft
We males suddenly coughed...
And collapsed in a shower of Sugar.
Ed's bunghole was blown back to Sparta,
Where they buried the rest of our gnomish farter,
With a gravestone of turds
Inscribed with the words:
"To the Fine Art of Farting, A true AB Martyr."
With an envious Bikey named Sunny-Dave, err,
He'd proceeded to fart
The complete oboe part
Of a Haydn Octet in B-major.
Wyedyed's repertoire ranged from classics to jazz,
He achieved new effects with bubbles of Arksided gas.
With a good dose of psybbo's salts
He could whistle an alba waltz
Or swing it in razzamatazz.
Factor's basso profundo with timbre so rare
He rendered quite often, with power squared to spare.
But his great work of art,
His fortissimo fart,
He saved for the Marche Desky Militaire.
One day Slappy was dared to perform
The Bibble Tell Overture Storm,
But naught could dishearten
Our spirited Spartan,
For his fart was in Penguin-land form.
It went off in capital style,
Though AoG farted it through with a smile,
Then, feeling quite Gromit jolly,
He tried the Khandro finale,
Blowing Daily Mail farts all the while.
The selection was tough, I admit,
But it did not dismay ABers one bit,
Then, with their asses thrown aloft
We males suddenly coughed...
And collapsed in a shower of Sugar.
Ed's bunghole was blown back to Sparta,
Where they buried the rest of our gnomish farter,
With a gravestone of turds
Inscribed with the words:
"To the Fine Art of Farting, A true AB Martyr."
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 just like a song.
Some farts do not smell,
While others are vile,
A fart may pass quickly,
Or linger awhile.
A fart can create
A most-curious medley,
A fart can be harmless,
Or silent, but deadly.
A fart can occur
In a number of places,
And leave everyone
With strange looks on their faces.
From wide-open prairies,
To small elevators,
A fart will find all of us
Sooner or later.
So be not afraid
Of the invisible gas,
For always remember,
That farts, too, shall pass.
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 just like a song.
Some farts do not smell,
While others are vile,
A fart may pass quickly,
Or linger awhile.
A fart can create
A most-curious medley,
A fart can be harmless,
Or silent, but deadly.
A fart can occur
In a number of places,
And leave everyone
With strange looks on their faces.
From wide-open prairies,
To small elevators,
A fart will find all of us
Sooner or later.
So be not afraid
Of the invisible gas,
For always remember,
That farts, too, shall pass.
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