Geez, that's a smell that will melt your...

(alternate entry title: Mask On.)

The lineup: The Artist Formerly Known As Lil' Bow Wow. And the former lead singer of B2K. Both rising Columbia Records stars on the way to Platinum sales and sold out shows, distracted momentarily by a squeaker.

Fart Factor: 9 out of 10. Two strong, defiant personalities looking accusingly at one another. They stand on the gaseous plains on the outskirts of a generic city, braving the ass clouds that swirl about them.

Most likely fart suspect: Judging by the direction of the wind and the more disgusted look on Bow Wow's face, Omarion.

Is there a Proctologist in the house?!

The names of the following characters have been changed to protect my inability to positively identify who any of these actors are on the ABC daytime website.

The lineup: From left to right: Whisper Thorn, Jance Keiser, Kelly Rhys-Paddy, Ralph de Bricassart, Briony Stanwyck, and Fission.

Fart Factor: This one goes to 11. 

Don't just sit there, Kelly! Can't you see how Whisper's jealousy of your independence roils? And don't believe Whisper's doe-eyed shame, Jance. She'll only use you again. Dammit! Run Kelly! It's too late for Jance, but not for you! But wait...what's this? 

Briony has joined in Whisper's scatty game? But they hate each other! They'd never work in concert...unless...Fission has made his play for Chief of Surgery?!? Oh no! Kelly isn't the target! It's Ralph! He's boxed in! He knows it's already too late for him. Where's my kleenex? Fission, you Machiavellian genius. 

God, I fucking hate Fission. Herschel Goldworm is a beautiful name, I don't know why he changed it.

Most likely fart suspect: Whisper and Briony are but the instruments. Fission is the conductor of this windy symphony.

You Better Watch Out, You Better Not Inhale

The lineup: Peanut, Santa, and Christy. Or is it Christy, Santa, and Peanut? Which one's Peanut? Who gives a shit?

Fart Factor: 4 out of 10. Dogs' heightened sense of smell might explain why the two pooches– Peanut in particular– are so rigid and uncomfortable. 16-year old Santa, however, looks like he's concentrating hard on not fainting.

Most likely fart suspect: Peanut. He farted so hard, light shot out of his fucking eyes.

Getting to know pew.

The Lineup:

Ahh, young love. 2 innocent corporate types grab a beverage on their first date. Sweater Vest gulps his a bit too quickly, and...uh oh! What's the best way to break the ice with that new, seemingly uptight gal that has nothing in common with you? Beer farts! While he probably won't get a kiss at the end of the night, she'll always remember him as the guy who blasted within the first half hour, before they even ate dinner. Heck, she might just respect him for it. Kind of reminds her of her dad. 

Fart Factor:

9 out of 10.

Most Likely Fart Suspect:

Sweater Vest.

Big Game Grunter.

The Lineup:

2 hunters let loose their clips, then their asscheeks. 

The open mouths signal their unbridled sense of accomplishment. This isn't just a fart, it's a trumpet of triumph. A stink of satisfaction. Can you smell victory? OK, I'll stop now.

Fart Factor:

6 out of 10.

Most Likely Fart Subject:

The both of them.

An Appropriate Title.

The lineup: Cue the dramatic cinema score! Cary Grant and Joan Fontaine are in the middle of a tangled cloud of mystery and intrigue!

Fart Factor: 4 Stars! Fontaine thrills as the bedridden wife accusing her husband of waking her! Grant is electric as a man denying doing a Dutch Oven!

Most Likely Fart Suspect: SEE! Cary Grant not sitting entirely on the bed! HEAR! A gentle rush of air blowing through pinstriped trousers! FEEL! The bed rumble!

Letting It Fly On the Back Nine.

The Lineup:

3 wealthy investment bankers cut out early, cut one often on the links. It's pretty obvious at first glance who the culprit is. I'm going to surmise that he's the CEO and he's used to this kind of gazing-in-awe from his underlings. They're damned proud. This man's farts are robust and powerful, yet organized. If they were a polo shirt, they'd be white and tucked in. OK, maybe brown and tucked in.

Fart Factor:

5 out of 10.

Most Likely Fart Subject:

The guy on the left.

Don't bow too low.

The lineup: You can read, can't you? Yoshio seems like the "face man" of the group, while Hisao looks like the financier of the corporation. And the plants in the background are wilting from a silent but deadly Gojira.

Fart Factor: 5 out of 10. A crack in Yoshio's demeanor betrays concern. Yoshio even shifts uncomfortably off his stool. Hisao, meanwhile, seems to be cheerful but wary.

Most likely fart suspect: Hisao. Just look at him! He's working on another one!

Warm Off the Presses

The lineup: Central Islip Millionairess Varsha Mahender Sabhnani and her husband, Mahender Murlidhar Sabhnani. Both have been accused of physically abusing and basically enslaving their Indonesian servants.

Fart Factor: 8 out of 10. Being embroiled in legal troubles must have done a number on both of their digestions, because they both know something is in the air. One spouse looks scornful. The other, resentful. At least he's outside.

Most likely fart suspect: They are BOTH guilty. Those poor Indonesian houseworkers! Who can work 18 hours straight in those conditions?

Fat Fart in a Little Car.

The Lineup:

Here's an idea: let's pack the family into a '92 Geo Metro and hit the beach! Of course, we all know what that means: today's forecast calls for noxious fumes packed tightly into very uncomfortable surfaces. This group is young but experienced. The gassy older brother with the dumb look on his face is flanked by his annoyed little brother and sister. The younger brother's t-shirt does a bang-up job of enumerating what he's feeling at the moment, and the sister doesn't let her car seat hold back what she thinks of the stench--she's very disappointed. One can only imagine what mom and dad are doing in the front seat. Probably waving newspapers and cranking the AC. Dad's probably slightly proud too. I can picture him hanging his arm out the window in a quiet celebration saying to himself, "now that's what America stands for." Can't say that I disagree.

Fart Factor:

10 out of 10.

Most Likely Fart Subject:

The older brother--With a perfect 10 out of 10 rating, he's our first All-Star farter.

A Squeaky Porch.

The Lineup: James Hofferton, Esquire; his sister Millicent T. Hofferton, and his new bride Agnes. Circa 1880.

Fart Factor: 8 out of 10. Despite the static photo, you can tell something is amiss by how the hanging sheet is blowing. The fact that Hofferton seated his sister in the middle reveals a lot of the family dynamic. Also, Agnes tugging nervously at her wedding band suggests turmoil. So whoever farted probably isn't going to admit it in this uptight family. Stoic Hofferton ignores the issue. Millicent heard it but doesn't want to upset the balance. Agnes sits miserably in the warm cloud.

Most Likely Fart Suspect: Millicent. She ruins everything.

Knowledge of Pew.

The Lineup:

Three studious students hit the books. One pushes out his inner demons.

The chick on the left could easily pass for a college catalog photo--the smell obviously hasn't hit her yet. On the right, we start to get a hint of trauma: we can see that this one is smiling, but it's not a comfortable one. She's saying through her clenched teeth, "why does my old and balding classmate's ass smell like a bison?" That, of course, can mean only one thing-it was the man in the middle.

Fart Factor:

6 out of 10.

Most Likely Fart Subject:

The dude. You can tell by the look on his face that he's slightly proud of himself. Plus, there's absolutely no appearance of self-consciousness on his part. Kudos, and fart on!

Wake Me Up Inside.

Since we're on a Goth Rock tip here, let's keep it going another round.

The lineup: Behold– Evanescence. From left to right: I think it's the bassist, Amy Lee, I think it's the drummer, and I think it's the guitarist.

Fart Factor: 6 out of 10. Bassist is mascarally startled at the bolt of thunder. Amy Lee is about to bring me to life. Drummer dude steels himself for the onslaught of stench. Guitarist stands greasily unawares of the oncoming terror about to unleash its shadow on the dark landscape of lost hope.

Most Likely Fart Suspect: Amy. She's the leader– who's gonna stop her?

Weird.

Submitted by Mel Krelein from Athens, GA:

Fart Metal Rocks!

The Lineup: A 5-man, 1-woman goth metal band. In other words, 5 emotionally underdeveloped guys who hate their fathers and the chick they want to bone. Together.

Fart Factor: 8 out of 10. It's no secret this band of brothers (and one sister) smells a rat. Or in this case, a toxic fart. And every member of the band wants you to know they're on to the culprit—YOU! Roxy Longhair on the left has taken particular offense, as has bachelor #4 to the right. The floating head to the left of the siren isn't so sure it was you, but he suspects, while the siren seems strangley turned on by your release of naxious fumes. The man on the right empathizes with your uncontrollable flatulence, and has covered himself up in case he too queefs. The wild card is the lad standing all the way in the back, nervously awaiting his bandmates' revelation that the fart machine is not in fact you; it's HIM!

Most Likely Fart Suspect: Marilyn Manson!

I'll Tell You What I Smell, What I Really Really Smell

The Lineup: Five old broads trying to scrape some grocery money together. I'm sure we all know what their names are, so I won't bother with introductions.

Fart Factor: 4 out of 10. It's a pretty innocuous shot until you start to look more closely. And let's ignore the ridiculous boobs for a second here and FOCUS. Posh seems to distance herself from the goings on because she just caught wind. Sporty is somehow happily oblivious. Same with Ginger, although her loose-fitting hippie dress and wide stance arouses suspicion. Baby straddles the line between staying for the photo and leaving the situation. Scary has smelled enough and starts to leave the photo shoot altogether.

Most Likely Fart Suspect: Baby.

"...Buy Me Some Nose Plugs and Pot-pou-rri..."

The Lineup: A group of high-school All-Stars go to tryouts, take a collective whiff.

The wide range of reactions are impressive: The guy on the right is thinking about it, the guy on the far left is disheartened, the guy in the left corner is perplexed, and the guy in the yellow shirt seems frightened. Why does the guy in the yellow shirt look older and bigger than everyone else, yet seem mortified at the thought of a little ass banjo? He must be a gentle giant.

Fart Factor:

9 out of 10

Most Likely Fart Suspect:

The guy in the blue hat who most likely got cut from this group of budding ballplayers, then responded in kind.

Actually, upon further inspection, the kid in the red shirt and hat seems just as likely a candidate, as everyone appears to be moving away from him. Plus, he's more dorky.

Something's Fishy Here.

Or at least smells like it.

Fresh Smells Served Daily.

The Lineup:

6 really old food service workers, 5 of whom are experiencing the scent of discovery.

Fart Factor:

6 out of 10.

Most Likely Fart Subject:

These guys are so collectively gassy that they could knock the frosting off of one of the many delectable desserts they're accustomed to serving. One man stands out, though. But this time, it's different. This time, it's mid-push. That's right. The poor man's James Carville, third from the left. A few of these guys seem to know what they're in for, a few are blissfully unaware at this exact second. The guy on the right seems particularly alarmed. He's seen this before. 

Haven't we all.

The Bell Curve Explodes

This UCLA statistics group is a hodgepodge. Of flailing asscheeks, that is.

The Lineup:

Lots of different ethnicities represented here. Which is always good. We've got the woman on the left, who looks perplexed, the man next to her, who appears to be getting away with something, the woman to his left, who looks slightly uncomfortable, though might be trying to look sexy, and we have the old guy with a King Kong shirt.

Fart Factor: 6 out of 10.

Most Likely Fart Subject: 

I'm torn. My first impulse is to say Smirky McSmirkerson, but the more time spent studying this photo, the more I'm inclined to say he just enjoys a good gas pass. And Christ, just look at King Kong. His body language opens up a whole can of worms as to how bad he farted and how much he wants everyone to bask in his glow of nastiness. He's completely unapologetic. Gotta be him. 

Rumble Down Under.

Before I pulled this picture off the web at random, I noticed that it had something to do with Australia and physics labs. Another international contribution!

You could surmise a lot from this photo. Who was the most gaseous, for instance. Let's take a closer look.

The lineup:

On the left:

Hair part, shorts, black socks. Rather large calves. He might be Joel's cousin. Anyway, he could be considered a suspect, sure. He's the type who would squeak one out on the couch, then sit down and giggle about it. Look, he's almost doing it right now! Can't you just see this picture coming to life?

Second from left:

What a contrast. We have sir red beard the mountain man, followed by this matronly maven. Her face doesn't reveal much. Which we can conclude means that she's smelling something pretty bad and trying not to make a stink (pun intended) about it. She just wants to get past it and onto the next project, like experimenting with pulley systems.

Third from left:

NOT HER. Of course not. She's way too relaxed, way too casual, way too just-having-a-good-time-sitting-next-to-my-farty-friends about the whole thing. 

Far right:

I'm going to surmise that he's the professor in the student/teacher relationship depicted here. Because he's standing. And he's the oldest. And he has a beard. Yes, so does #1, but his is more of a neck beard. This guy has professor-beard. 

And...he farted.

Absolutely it was him. The partial smile/partial grimace, the hands awkwardly sort-of-on-hips-like-he-just-let-one-go look, the overall nervousness. Again, if this picture were animated, he'd be squirming and grimacing. And while the angle won't tell us for sure, I bet he's the only one of the four who's married. He's used to giving dutch ovens and getting a slap on the wrist from the missus in return. Unlike the others, who don't want things to get awkward. He's over it all.

He's also wearing socks with sandals. 

Fart factor: 7 out of 10.

Most likely fart subject: The Teach.

Corporate Conundrum.

This photo features the board of directors from a company called “Icebank.” It’s a .is web addy, so I’m thinking we can assume that our fart blog is already going international (and on the second post, nonetheless!) Anyhow, enough grandstanding, let’s get right to it.

Actually, let’s not. I have to point out first that without even getting into the gastrointestinal distress of this photo that there are a few interesting faces. The guy on the left looks a lot like Phil May, as well as the late actor Jason Robards (circa “Parenthood”). Meanwhile, the guy in the middle looks like a bizarro Drew Carey.

OK, that’s over a thousand characters without anything resembling talk about who let one. Last time that’ll happen. Promise.

The Lineup:
On the left:

I’m guessing he’s been on the board for years, probably yachts, and definitely wears ascots, especially when he yachts. He also farts. Extensively. Not this time, though.

Moving one step to the right:

He lets go loudly and in bunches. See that clump of hair out of place on his forehead? Caused by incessant air biscuits. Though this time, they aren’t of his own doing.

Drew Carey:

He looks constipated. And I’m thinking the only reason he DIDN’T let ‘er rip is due to the fact that he would have had to go change his pants immediately following. Too dangerous. And Bizarro Drew doesn’t subscribe to that magazine.

Second from the right:

This is the kind of guy that calls his kids “champ” and “sport,” even though they both suck. I count at least three chins. What any of this has to do with farts is debatable. It doesn’t matter; he didn’t cause the rumble.

Far right:

Um yeah, could it be any more obvious? This fast-rising corporate dynamo probably graduated at the top of his ivy league school and now sits on the board at age 28 wondering how he got so awesome. He doesn’t look the part at this moment though, which is probably due to the fact that he let one go mere seconds before this photo was snapped. The board will put up with behavior like that for a little while, but what the limits of their understanding are remains to be seen.

Fart Factor: 8 out of 10.

Most Likely Fart Suspect:  B.J. Novak over there.

Edit: Icebank (www.icebank.is) is apparently a commercial bank in Iceland. Duh.

Teen Fart!

One look at an ad for Gossip Girl will tell you all you need to know about the series: that white kids communicate via meaningful glances!


But in order for us to play "Who Farted" better, let's work with a bigger shot of the cast.


The lineup: Doe-eyed Rachel Bilson wannabe, high-cheekboned Boone-from-Lost wannabe, blonde chick whose cheek mole has been photoshopped out, dude with a seriously 3D looking leather jacket, Sniff Monster, and a pre-herpes Tara Reid.

Fart factor: 7 out of 10. Someone has seriously dropped ass amidst the hub-bub of Times Square, and it looks like the traffic is rushing in a blur to get out of there. The two on the left are intrigued, while the two on the far right bemusedly discuss their next step. Blondie tries to keep a straight face, but cop dude takes her downtown for questioning.

Most likely fart suspect: Blondie

Welcome to Who Farted Photos

This is a spinoff blog from Eat A Dick Joel blog. A lot of what you see here will be rerun material from that blog. But rest assured, it will only be fart related. Honest Injun.