I don't care when I let one or more out. I swear its the low rumble form my amp that gets me going. but nothing makes me laugh harder then the poor drummer after the song ends and he knows it was me.
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Farting during a show
- Thread starter jive1
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I had my first gig sunday at a memorial day party ..
i had been drinkin the previous 3 nights, my beer of choice is killians.
it gives you the willies bad the next day.
and of course we all ate before the show ..
i let quite a few loose for the drummer
he wasn't too happy with me, haha. he had a fan pointed his direction, he turned it back at me.
i had been drinkin the previous 3 nights, my beer of choice is killians.
it gives you the willies bad the next day.
and of course we all ate before the show ..
i let quite a few loose for the drummer
he wasn't too happy with me, haha. he had a fan pointed his direction, he turned it back at me.We like to call it "Ripping and rolling." You can do it on break too. Just walk through a crowd and let 'em rip.
- Mar 30, 2007
- 4,017
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- Endorsing Artist: Genzler Amplification/Spector Basses/Mojo Hand FX
On the way to a gig my soundman once told me I would never get married because I farted too much. I thanked him for the vote of confidence and told him he could ride with the drummer on the way home.
normally I'll just walk up to my drummer and fart on them, by the end of the show there pretty stinky anyway.
I have no specific memories of farting eith the band, but when I was younger I loved farting on people. I was at Target once with my former brother-in-law. He stood secretly in the candy aisle, which was kiddie corner to the card section. This mom and her baby were parked by the cards so I approached, lifted leg, dropped, and took off. It had a lot of volume and body. The mom was surpised and said to a nearby person, "Did you see that? Did you see what he did!?".
Great times.
Great times.
I played at a hoity-toity country-club type, high-society place last night, and having had beans for lunch, was fully primed. The gig was outside, and I set up on the left side of the stage. I have a squirrel-cage fan to my left, and the drummer was slightly behind me, right in the line of fire if I pointed the fan down just slightly. Every time this one lady he was smitten with walked by, I'd let one rip...right to him. He'd get a whiff, and get the yuck-face going. Fast forward to break time, and we're sitting around when he says "Did you guys see that fine chick that keeps going past the left side of the stage? Every time she goes by, it starts smelling like a sewer line backed up!" 
I was secretly dying inside, and not-so-secretly, those fumes were escaping! I had to excuse myself to go out to my truck to "look for a 9-volt"...
So my guitarist follows me out, and being of like mind, he says "That was you, wasn't it?"
I had to let him in on the joke, and told him of my devious trick. The lady was very pretty, and the drummer couldn't help but gawk as she was repeatedly walking back and forth between the pool out front and the moonwalk jumper behind us (she must have been watching her kid) about eleventy-seven times. The drummer never made the connection! Every time she walked by, the farts flew, and every time, the drummer got a snootful...
So the last break we're sitting around talking again, and the drummer is watching this lady walk past the stage, kid in tow, and departs the function. Drummer says in a hushed tone to us "That lady is fine looking, but I think something's wrong with her. Every time she went by, it smelled like a paper mill or sewer. Maybe it's her perfume?"
After the gig, we were breaking down and I couldn't resist firing one more at him through the fan. The noise was masked by the CD that was still playing. He looked up at me, and said "There it is again! Did you smell that?" I sniffed the air and said "Smells like a sewer pipe...must be a vent somewhere nearby- maybe in those bushes?"
He replied "Man, I thought it was that lady cutting the cheese every time she walked by! I guess it was a sewer!"
.....................................................
He was loading his truck up, and had left his driver door open, so I couldn't resist one more parting shot- yes, I couldn't have stopped it anyway! I stood next to his door and let my noxious fumes slide out silently. When I felt I had let enough go, I shut the door...
I was just turning out onto the street when I got a cell phone call from him.
"You sonofabeach! It was YOU! You left it in my truck! I know it was you, because I saw you shut the door!"
"What are you talking about?"
"You know! You sorry sack of..."
I was laughing the whole way home...
I was secretly dying inside, and not-so-secretly, those fumes were escaping! I had to excuse myself to go out to my truck to "look for a 9-volt"...So my guitarist follows me out, and being of like mind, he says "That was you, wasn't it?"
I had to let him in on the joke, and told him of my devious trick. The lady was very pretty, and the drummer couldn't help but gawk as she was repeatedly walking back and forth between the pool out front and the moonwalk jumper behind us (she must have been watching her kid) about eleventy-seven times. The drummer never made the connection! Every time she walked by, the farts flew, and every time, the drummer got a snootful...
So the last break we're sitting around talking again, and the drummer is watching this lady walk past the stage, kid in tow, and departs the function. Drummer says in a hushed tone to us "That lady is fine looking, but I think something's wrong with her. Every time she went by, it smelled like a paper mill or sewer. Maybe it's her perfume?"
After the gig, we were breaking down and I couldn't resist firing one more at him through the fan. The noise was masked by the CD that was still playing. He looked up at me, and said "There it is again! Did you smell that?" I sniffed the air and said "Smells like a sewer pipe...must be a vent somewhere nearby- maybe in those bushes?"
He replied "Man, I thought it was that lady cutting the cheese every time she walked by! I guess it was a sewer!"
.....................................................
He was loading his truck up, and had left his driver door open, so I couldn't resist one more parting shot- yes, I couldn't have stopped it anyway! I stood next to his door and let my noxious fumes slide out silently. When I felt I had let enough go, I shut the door...
I was just turning out onto the street when I got a cell phone call from him.
"You sonofabeach! It was YOU! You left it in my truck! I know it was you, because I saw you shut the door!"
"What are you talking about?"
"You know! You sorry sack of..."
I was laughing the whole way home...
Almost a haiku (especially with the double meaning last line):
I fart at my gigs
Here I thought it was just me
Well that's a relief
I work with a drummer who can be a bit of a tyrant.
I used to occasionally fart right in his fan especially at this one gig we did every Sunday night for a few years.
It only took him ten years to figure out he should put the fan on the other side!
I used to occasionally fart right in his fan especially at this one gig we did every Sunday night for a few years.
It only took him ten years to figure out he should put the fan on the other side!
Our drummer farts more than any of us...and man I swear his have like a 2 mile radius on them..
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