A fart without a sense of purpose is not a fart at all.

The Lineup:

Attention tourists! Here's one way to discover a sense of direction: fart, then walk the OPPOSITE way. You'll get where you're going in no time. Way to fit in with the locals! Also, look for her to start fanning that map any second.

Fart Factor:

6 out of 10.

Most Likely Fart Suspect:

The guy who is obviously mid-squeeze.

Now Would Be a Good Time To Wave.

The Line Up: Princes William and Harry. Don't know which is which. If I did, that would mean I am gay.

Fart Factor: 4 out of 10. 8 out of 10 if you convert from pounds to dollars.

Most Likely Fart Suspect: The two are notoriously mischievous, so it's hard to say. (Didn't one dress like a Nazi once?) But if I were a wagering man, I'd say the prince to the left. He's younger and it looks like he just finished a one-cheek sneak. Keep a stiff upper lip. Don't ruffle any feathers.

A soft breeze down below.

The Lineup:

Three men feel festive, one feels gassy.

According to the imminently reliable Wikipedia, a kilt is a "traditional garment of modern Scottish or Celtic (more specifically Gaelic) culture typically worn by men."

For men who fart, however, it's just a colorful wind tunnel.

Fart Factor:

7 out of 10

Most Likely Fart Suspect:

The Celtic (specifically Gaelic) or Scot on the right.

Fartinonya

The Lineup: A whole array of Indian actors who are unknown in the States but are probably motherfuckin' HUGE in India. Also, George Harrison with eyeliner.

Fart Factor: 9.5 out of 10. Some serious clouds are wafting along the plains, and it ain't from a train's smokestack. From left to right, Surush is inquisitive; Arpana is optimistically stimulated; Rajat is stern and bored; George Harrison's sitar gently weeps; Captain Nayakan feels deeply threatened; Kanvar is terrified; Gaurang is defiantly defensive. Meanwhile, a royal guard on the plains tries to kill the title of the movie.

Most likely fart suspect: The director Vidhu Chopra (not pictured) who just wanted to show India's A-Listers who's really fueling the train.

Silent But Deadly.

The Lineup:

3 mime clowns (WTF) live it up, laugh it up, and stink it up while they rest their tired performing selves on colored boxes.

Fart Factor:

7 out of 10.

Most Likely Fart Suspect:

To identify our farting mime clown, one must examine clearly the various facial expressions expressed. The answer lies in the man in the middle, flanked on the sides by his compatriots who are clearly laughing uproariously. Conversely, the man in the middle isn't actually laughing at all, but punctuating his poot with a vocal confirmation. It's all fun and games until they realize that their fake noses are blocking their nasal passageways. Mime clown farts stick around awhile.

1757: The Year of the French, Brits, and Farts.

Ed: the following is a guest submission from frequent reader Jessica Foster.

The Line Up:

Hawkeye, a white guy that thinks he's an Indian and Cora, a hot white
chick that hates guys that wear powdered wigs.

Fart Factor:

10 out of 10

The most likely stinky 18th century air punisher:

By the look on Cora's face, she is admiring a fart, most likely of
her own. No one loves the smell of other peoples' farts. By the proud
but a little distant look on Hawkeye's face, we can see that he is
torn between falling even more madly in love with his woman because
she can smell so bad it's good, or he is repulsed, knowing she
probably crapped in her Expensive English frocks.

Aisle 4: Cereal, Granola Bars, Noxious Fumes

The Lineup:

2 ladies go grocery shopping, cut more than just coupons.

Fart Factor:

7 out of 10

Most Likely Fart Subject:

This "Who Farted Face Off" is a duel worthy of Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr. Too bad grocery aisles aren't wide enough to allow for 10 paces prior to farting. Oh well. Notice how each suspect looks accusatory, yet smug about the whole thing. These ladies make it possible to shoot daggers from one's back, which I've henceforth never seen. The question in this case isn't "who farted?", it's more like "who farted BEST?" And the truth is, there really is no loser. They both did, and they're both OK with it.

The wheels on the bus go pffth pffth pffth.

The Lineup:

Four hungover college students from Texas A&M take the bus back from a debaucherous, regretful evening in which they probably all did each other and don't remember any of it.

Fart Factor:

6 out of 10.

Most Likely Fart Suspect:

If nothing else, one thing is prevalent throughout all facial expressions in this photo: apathy. From the girl begrudgingly texting to her friend thinking about whether or not her compadre wore protection, everyone's defeated at this point. The day-after beer fart let loose by the guy in the sunglasses garners a half-second of entertainment in a sea of bleakness for his orange-shirted buddy, but don't be fooled: this day has no hope. No one else even notices, or cares.

Please Open the Airlock.

The lineup: Commander William T. Riker, Counselor Deanna Troi-Riker, and Dr. Beverly Crusher. God, I am such a nerd.

Warp Factor: 6 out of 10. The close quarters of the Starship Enterprise makes for lots of shared moments amongst its crew. Hermetically-sealed airlocks, shields, and narrow passageways keep the crew in a constant asteroid field of poop ghosts. It doesn't help either that if one were to fart in that onesy uniform, the only escape for the bubble would be at the collar. Here on the medical bay, someone has rendered the entire room non-sterile. Is it Riker? He seems distracted but determined to overcome. Counselor Troi's magnificent schnoz looks like it's picking up life signs that aren't hers. And Dr. Crusher? She definitely seems to be shooting daggers (set on kill) at someone.

Most Likely Fart Suspect: Look closely: the always astute Dr. Crusher is pointing her tricorder at the most likely source of the anomoly: Counselor Troi's ass.

Aroma Therapy.

The Lineup:

2 docs finish up another 120-hour work week by releasing some much-needed posterior pressure.  

Fart Factor:

7 out of 10

Most Likely Fart Suspect:

The male and female doctor clearly have a routine. He farts, she basks in the rosy glow. There's something for both of them in this relationship. Stinkybottom, M.D. lets loose here with the type of slow, deliberate gas that can only be caused by a week of hospital cafeteria food. Though it was mostly the pudding.

A sour note.

The Lineup:
The high school band plays the fight song, while one member keys up smells in the key of gross.

Fart Factor:
6 out of 10.

Most Likely Fart Suspect:
The guy in the back on the xylophone. He looks so sad! If only the sweet plinkety-plink of those keys could drown out his scent. The large redhead looks downright confused, or else is still enjoying the scent of discovery.

And look in the background: the referee even threw a flag!

"I think I tore my Spandex."

The Lineup:

Three guys in Manhattan go running around the city. One lets it fly, then sees his gas propel him to victory. The others are forced to breathe his noxious fumes.

I've had this experience many times. And honestly, it's a conundrum. Whenever I run, I wear headphones, so I often let loose at will. There's no telling who hears it. I just keep running, so it doesn't really affect me.

Fart Factor:

5.5 out of 10

Most Likely Fart Suspect:

I think it's pretty obvious.

Chief Staininshorts.

The Lineup:
Legendary Indian chiefs (from top) Horseback (Comanche), Bloody Mouth (Sioux), Wolf Robe (Cheyenne), and Lazy White Bull (Sioux). They're all great leaders. And with experience and wisdom inevitably comes gas.

Fart Factor:
6.5 out of 10

Most Likely Fart Suspect:
Bloody Mouth looks a bit wide-eyed and guilty, the others look angry, or at the very least, perturbed. It's Bloody Mouth by a mile.

Quick, inhale the asbestos!

The Lineup:

3 construction workers. When you're working your fingernails to the grindstone, you're bound to let a few slip. After all, it's not like you can get any dirtier. These guys may have the most farts per capita of any of our previous posts. Except that bearded fat guy.

Fart Factor:

5 out of 10.

Most Likely Fart Suspect:

The man on the right. What is that hole in the crotch of his pants? Is it part of a burning flame?

Sitting In the Back Pew.

The lineup: The always-pissed Ice Cube, the always-working- blue Katt Williams, and the always-making-that-smirk Tracy Morgan.

Fart Factor: 9.3 out of 10. The room is electric with accusation, insinuation, and fresh beef. Katt Williams wishes he weren't so short and close to the ground. Tracy gives a knowing look, telling someone to fess up. Ice Cube ain't havin' it.

Most likely fart suspect: Not Katt. Not Tracy. But I'll be damned if I'm going to accuse someone who was known to have said

I'm meaner than a mutha-fucking hyena, chasing antelope
Put a chrome to your dome, watch it bust like a cantaloupe

Fuck it. YOU tell him.

The wind in your hair. The sun at your back. The farts in your face.

The Lineup:

The Hell's Angels are dangerous. They deal drugs. They run guns. They kill people. Their farts are also dangerous. If you stop to think about it, it's a matter of simple physics: moving on a piece of heavy machinery at a great speed can only ramp up the stank of an explosion from one's nether regions. Common sense, kemosabes. 

Above, we see from left to right Sludge, Snake, and Beetlebrow getting rowdy as they ramp up their hijinx with beer, black denim (and leather, in Sludge's case), and loud, violent gas.

Fart Factor:

8.5 out of 10

Most Likely Fart Suspect:

Snake

Somebody Light a Match.

The lineup: A visibly perturbed Rosario Dawson, The People's Eyebrow, a grizzled Stifler, and Christopher Walken as Red Skelton. Rosario cannot BELIEVE what she just heard. The Rock was having a good time until somebody let one. Christopher Walken can smell it, but is too respected an actor to react. And I'm not even going to call him by his real name because he is totally acting Stifler right now.

**A sidenote: I understand that there's some unwritten rule about how the biggest star is listed first (on the left), but it just annoys the pissing shit out of me when it doesn't match up with the photos.

Fart Factor: 4 out of 10. You know who did it. I know who did it. The jig is up, and the smell is supplying plenty of methane to the jungle.

Most likely fart suspect: Steve Stifler. Hopefully his little brother Matt is behaving more maturely at American Pie: Band Camp.

Five-O Flatulence.

The Lineup:

Two of NY's finest on a quest for pickpockets, loitering, and seeing whose air biscuit can clear the sidewalk the fastest. And I think you can tell who's winning. Or can you? Upon closer inspection, it looks like the two of them may be letting one fly simultaneously. One thing's for sure, though: if you've ever asked yourself the question "what do donut farts smell like?", you can now rest assured that the answer is "bad."

Fart Factor:

7.5 out of 10

Most Likely Fart Suspect:

Probably both of them, though one appears to have more cause for alarm than the other. He may have sharted.

I'll Clear This Courtroom If I Have To

The lineup: Greg, Jonathan and Hildey of Tirebuck Legal Solutions. Greg's the researcher, a bookish but hardworking attorney. What Jonathan lacks in experience, he makes up for in moxie. Hildey just dropped by to pick up her copy of Variety.

Fart Factor: 4 out of 10. Their attempt at looking imposing over a low-angled camera is undone by someone tossing an ass jart. Order! No, Jonathan, you may NOT approach the bench! Hildey, could you help me fan out my chambers?

Most Likely Fart Suspect: Jonathan is the too obvious choice, so we the jury find Greg guilty. Case closed!

The Sweet Smell of Victory.

The Lineup:

The open air of the sidelines becomes the perfect place to squeak out everything from last-second victories to post-half time crop dusters. It's immediately apparent who our culprit is, and it's not surprising: head coaches are often large men, men with the audacity to fart in the face of the backup quarterback. Further, this coaches' outlook on life becomes eminently less enjoyable when you're in a hot room for 3 hours reviewing film. 

If you look closely, you can see that the referee on the left is ready to throw a flag.

Fart Factor:

6 out of 10.

Most Likely Fart Subject:

Coach.

Mall Flatulanders

If you've never heard of Journeys, next time you're at a mall, look somewhere between the Structure and the Hot Topic. It's there. And their excellent Holiday catalog gives a revealing look at its target audience: teens who like to bundle up while 'hanging loose' and 'chillin' indoors.


The lineup: Unisex Canvas Jacket with Pockets, $39.95; Women's Chocolate Nylon jacket with faux fur trim, $45.00; Plaid Thermal, $24.00; White Fur Hoodie, $40.00, and "Fresh To Death" T-Shirt, Charcoal, $20.00.


Unisex Canvas Jacket is ALL denial. Like he even does that. Come on, guys, seriously!


The trio of women's wear aren't even hearing it. They're all like, "We totally heard you, so don't even act like you didn't!"


Meanwhile, late-twentysomething-trying-to-look-teenager is all, "Dude. Don't even look here for any backup. Like, you're on your own. And I'm in the military, by the way."

Fart Factor: 7.8 out of 10

Most likely fart suspect: In case you thought maybe he was too cool to do something as stupid as fart in front of chicks, consider this: