Originally Posted by J4CKO

Ever noticed that you can be alone for hours, yet the minute you let a really smelly guff out a lady will decide to come over, this is especially true at work.

For Example, today, just before lunch I was contemplating whether I could risk a trip to the butty shop before going for a 'sit down', let one go in my little corner of the office and this made a little space convincing me I could chance it, now this was a little above the average due to some serious eating of rubbish the day before, then I spy a female colleague hove into view on a direct course for my desk, not your common office bird, a more refined lady and based on the time and the eye contact I realised she was after one thing and one thing only, the one thing of mine that women just have to get in their hands at that special part of the day, its lunch time and she needed my can opener which I keep in my drawer having lost three of the bloody things (who the f*ck nicks can openers from work?) , sure enough she was carrying a can of something.

Anyway, I realise my dilema, me there sat all guilty, feeling the blood rush to my cheeks (on my face) I have to think quick as she is getting closer and the cloud I was sat in wasnt dissipating, it was geting stronger in fact I suspect it was actually visible by now, billowing clouds of carbohydrate abuse fueled **** evil, I was contemplating making a break for the door but I think that may have released a further (and possibly fatal) few cubic centimetres from the fabric and foam of the chair at the point of contact between it and my smoking rectum.

With a moment of clarity of thought, I decided to pre-empt her request by having the can opener ready, so I opened my drawer and rooted for it, she is very close by now and as I manage to find it amongst all the crap I spin round and hold it at arms length, almost smacking her in the face with it such was my urge to avoid her being enveloped and possesed by the demon I had released.

This is a common occurance, the can opener request, she normally either gets it herself or I pass it to her but it involves a trip to get it, then to the kitchen and a further trip to return it and being one for implementing new and more efficient working practises (it is local government you see) she decides that it may be a good time saver to open the soup at my desk, ARGHHHHHHHH, she takes the can opener and then walks into the epicentre, the very eye of the storm of the methane maelstrom itself.

A few seconds pass, a few slight whimpers from behind me, I couldnt be sure whether this was her fighting for her last dying breaths or just a woman making heavy weather of opening a can of soup. I couldn't turn round, Couldnt look her in the eye as my face would have given away the terrible secret as hers would so surely have given away what she had discovered, I sat there and all I could think to utter, to break the tension was 'Is this where I get a drawer full of cold soup'. By this point I was going redder and redder, my shoulders were shuddering and I thought that if she doesnt p1ss off soon I was going to become hysterical trying to stop myself from laughing.

With this, she was gone, flounced off with a brief thanks but causing further gas dispersal, the opener was safely put back into its drawer and I manage to compose myself and made a vow to go for a poo at my first opportunity to avoid further similar situations, just as I was thinking this I was aware of the guy who sits next to me speaking,

'F*ckin ell, what soup is that, it F*ckin stinks'

So I reply,

'Its either Heinz Cream of Turd or you can smell my fart'

Cue much wafting of folders and that making a big deal of it to alert everyone to the fact somebody has farted, over exagerated arm waving etc.

Slunk off for lunch........