rSlash - r/Tifu By Eating 8 Fiber Bars and Farting NONSTOP

Episode Date: December 11, 2020

r/Tifu In today's episode, OP gets really hungry and decides to eat a fiber bar, and then another, and then another until he's eaten 8 fiber bars. The next day, he and his cousins go on a long road trip. That's when trouble strikes. Those 8 fiber bars have transformed OP into farting machine, generating the most putrid gas that has ever been experienced, with OP letting one rip about once every 30 seconds or so. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

You went past business casual, spent all night practicing that presentation. You rolled up to the office ready to rock that 9 a.m. Until you remembered it was offsite. When you need to look good showing up late, own it. With the all new 2024 Chevrolet Tracks RS. Welcome to R-slash, a podcast where we read the best post from a cross-reddit. Today's subreddit is R-Slash Today I F-Dup, where OP breaks the world record for farting. Today I F-Dup by taking a bath for the first time in years. Background, I'm a shower gal. The last time I took a bath was when I was six years ago. Two, I'm a teacher under copious amounts of stress from this lovely school year. Today, after a particularly stressful day teaching, I decided I need to do some self-care.

I went to Ulta and was a perhousing and I stumbled upon the bath bomb section. In my head, I thought, why not? Baths can't be that bad. I always see people in movies relaxing in a bath. Let's give it a try. I carefully selected a pink bath bomb, and that, dear reader, is the key to my F up. When I got home, I decided to make a night out of it. I got my book, poured myself a glass of wine, put on a bubbling

face mask, and I turned on some tunes. I was sitting in the tub and I dropped in the bath bomb. It was pretty and smelled great. In order to soak in the relaxation vibes, I leaned back and, gracefully, with my gangly elbows flailing about for balance, knocked my wine glass into the tub and the glass shattered instantly. So there I was in a tub with pink water, broken glass floating everywhere and bubbles all over my face from the face mask. I tried to wipe my eyes to see but instead rub the bubbles in my eyes. I called for my boyfriend who runs in and sees me crying from the soap,

surrounded by glass and bloody pink water. He then sees his three-inch long-shard of glass jutting out of my back. After a mini freak out on his part, he fishes out all the glass, yanked that sucker out of my back and had to flush out my eyes because by that point, they were burning and I was hysterical. Zero out of ten would not recommend taking a bath to de-stress. And then OP clarifies in an edit. A lot of people keep saying that glass doesn't float, so this is fake. I didn't mean like floating on the top, but rather mixing in with the water and flowing around any time that I moved. My movements start to glass around, sorry for the confusion. Today I f'd up by going to get a mountain due for my garage and getting a gun pointed

at me instead. My dad is out of town so I'm home alone this week. I was up really late because I screwed up and didn't do the assignment that was doing the morning. I was starting to get really tired so I decided to get a little head of caffeine. I went down to the garage because we have an extra fridge there and I grabbed a soda. I walked back to the door to go inside, but the door wouldn't budge. This is when I realized that I screwed up, because not only did I lock myself out of my home with no

shirt, no keys, and no phone. I also failed to remember that my home security system was armed, and right as I finished that thought, the alarm went off. I started panicking and tried to force the door open so I can shut the alarm off. I realized that wasn't gonna work, and I just started pacing and freaking the f out. It took me longer than I'm proud to realize that I'm in a garage and I can just open the garage door. I raised the garage door and ran to the front door, and it's locked, of course. Fortunately for me though, there's three other doors on the side in the back of the house. Unfortunately for me, those two were locked. I defaulted back to stress pacing until I decided to screw it. The cops will be here soon and maybe they can help

me. Well, I was half right. I opened the side gate and walked back to the front of the house when all of a sudden someone screams at me. Stop! Let me see your hands! I freeze up in fear because I'm realizing that two cops who are responding to a home invasion are now pointing a gun at me, the weird, shirtless guy coming from the backyard. I complied with their orders and explained that I live here, I just set off the alarm and locked myself out. They looked up the homeowner, my dad, and gave him a call. Needless to say, my dad wasn't too happy to be receiving a call from the cops at 2am asking me if the moron who locked himself out of his own house was his son. Once they were satisfied that I lived there, one police officer

brought out this device that sort of just popped the door open for me. I thank them, shut the alarm up, and used the adrenaline coursing through my veins to bust out the remainder of my homework. And then down in the comments someone asks, did you finish the Mountain Dew? And OP replies, the funny thing was, after all of that, I still completely forgot about my Mountain Dew. So it was just waiting for me in the garage when I left this morning. Today I have to, by eating 8 chocolate fiber bars before a long car ride with my family and experiencing the most absurd gas leak in history.

This happened a year ago, but I just remembered this horrific event and the poor victims who never fully recovered. I was set to go on a 10 hour road trip through the interior of British Columbia and with me were my two cousins and my uncle. However, before our 6am departure, I decided the night before to wolf down these chocolate chip fiber 1 granola bars that had something like 75% of your daily fiber intake. These things were crazy good, and I ended up eating an entire eight pack of them in one sitting. After that I went to sleep and woke up in the morning to a bloated stomach, but felt fine otherwise. 45 minutes into our ride, the cramps began. My stomach grew larger and larger, and I ended up needing to remove my seatbelt and undoing the zipper in my jeans to give it more space to expand.

My cousin next to me couldn't believe what he was seeing. He said it was like the blueberry scene from Willy Wonka. I couldn't hold the gas in any longer and ask my uncle to pull over, which he did, and I struggled to get out of my seat as every move was agony. I waddled to the back of the car and let her rip. A thunderous roar escaped me like my butthole was racing as Harley Davidson around the block on a Sunday morning. The gas hissed out of me as my stomach grumbled, shuffled, and shuddered.

I am not exaggerating when I tell you that this part lasted at least 15 seconds. Little did I know that I had just broken the seal, and I would proceed to experience uncontrollable and obnoxiously powerful parts that lasted 10 to 15 seconds on average, with only a brief period of relief between ZFarts. The fact of the matter was that I was now experiencing major flatulence every 2-3 minutes, and we couldn't stop the car every few minutes to escape the smell, so we decided to roll all the windows down and allow me to let loose whenever I needed. However, we had no idea that this would become a much longer ordeal than we initially thought. Truth be told, I couldn't stop farting for nearly 7 hours.

Oh my god. And each fart just had to be more epic than the last. By the time our two rolled around, my butthole was soar and aching. And my insides felt like shards of glass were ripping through me. And the smell had become so overpowering that we had to stop at a gas station and buy as many air fresheners as we could. I took one of the air fresheners and sat on it in the hopes that each fart would be that each fart would be freshened up.

Instead, it just felt like rotten eggs and pine. My cousins and uncle resorted to using vicks around their noses to stop the smell. The pain from constantly farting brought me to tears at one point, and I realized how ridiculous it must look to see a grown man crying while farting nonstop. At hour four, disaster struck. I stopped farting, but I was still swelling with gas. I knew I was plugged up, and if I didn't do something soon, the pain was gonna become unbearable.

We stopped at a coffee shop and I ran into yous the bathroom. I gingerly sat down on the toilet and gently pushed, but the pain was too much. I was ordered to pushing on my stomach to help things along, and suddenly I felt this wave of pressure hit me that made my butt cheeks break into a cold sweat and started tingle. Suddenly, and without warning, a rock hard-turted rocketed out of me like a cannibal and plastered itself into the back of the toilet bowl. And with that, this title... And with that, this title wave of what could only be described as... as peanut butter oatmeal.

I could feel the muscles in my abdomen squeezing my intestines so hard that it actually hurt. It was like when you're throwing up and you feel your stomach violently squish itself to push everything out, but instead it was my butt that was throwing up. Once everything was pushed out, it was topped off by the longest fart in my short, pathetic existence. One that I could never accurately get the length for, other than to say that it was over 20 seconds, and I could literally feel and see my stomach shrinking. I destroyed that poor coffee shop bathroom, and I frequently wonder what happened to the person who wandered in after me. From that point forward, the farts were just as frequent and long, but they felt cleaner and less restricted. It began to feel like I was airing out my

colon, blowing out all the accumulated dust. My ribs and anus ached horribly, but I was starting to feel euphoria wash over me. That I assumed was just the endorphin rush my body was giving as a way to protect my fragile mind from this ridiculous ordeal. By the time our seven had rolled around, my farts had slowly faded away. But the smell permeated my clothes and the seat behind me. My family had gone through almost an entire container of vicks. And they appeared to have survived the ordeal, but I could tell that a part of them was broken that could never be fixed. It was as though they felt violated by having to breathe in my butt breath for 7 hours, and I knew that my uncle was upset that his

car's interior would never smell the same again. As it already smelled like hot garbage by this point, we eventually arrived with that incident, and we refused to speak of this event again. Things were never really the same between all of us after that, and I have a feeling none of us will ever touch eggs again. They already ate enough of my farts, they don't need a reminder. I should have never eaten that much fiber. I had no idea it was capable of that. Too long didn't read. I made 15 second farts on average with an average rate of one fart every three minutes. That means I was- that means I was farting an average of 300 seconds an hour or 2100 seconds over 7 hours. I farted for 35 minutes.

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and we'll give another $100 to a charity of your choice. RBC Vantage. This great perk and more! Only at RBC. Visit rbc.com slash get 100, give 100. Condition Supply. In January 31, 2024, complete offer eligibility criteria by March 29, 2024. Choose one of eight eligible charities, up to $500,000 in total contributions. Today I fduck by losing my cat on the side of the highway somewhere in Kentucky. I recently closed my lease in Florida to move back to my dad's house in Chicago.

I'm working from home and don't need to be paying rent in Florida if I can just live with family instead. So I pack my stuff up, store the rest in a store, June it, close my lease, and hit the road. My cat, Randall Flag, accompanied me in the cars we drove through Florida, Georgia, Tennessee, and then Kentucky. I was going about 105 miles per hour and a 70-mile per hour zone when a Kentucky State Trooper pulled me over. I was making incredible time moving that quickly,

but obviously the risk is being pulled over. Or death. Anyway, the State Trooper comes to the passenger side of my car to stay away from the highway speed traffic. My car was already off, so my window didn't roll down when I tried that. Instead, he opened the door. During the discussion, we actually addressed the fact that my cat Randall could escape, and I asked if I could step out of the car to keep it sealed. That didn't end up happening. After the traffic stop, maybe about a minute of driving later, I realized Randall is not in the car anymore.

And I get a bolt of absolute panic. I pull over again. This time without a state trooper behind me. I frantically shout from inside the car. I check the footboxes, seat, his little nooks, nothing. My mind racing, I leave the car on the side of the highway and begin running back south to where I was pulled over. I reach the area, completely spent. My voice is totally thrashed from shouting over the sound of the highway for Randall. The woman who lives next to the highway where I was pulled over hasn't seen him. I have burrs all over my shoes and shorts from tromping through the Kentucky woods and fields next to the highway.

I call the non-emergency state phone number, my vet, my mom, my dad. I spend 45 minutes shouting and walking along the highway in serious emotional distress. My boy, my best bud is lost in the stupid woods somewhere. I see a state trooper nearby, he's very helpful and actually drives me back around to the area that I lost Randall to keep looking, and he gets the officer who pulled me over to come back also. No luck. I interact with more nice families in the area, leaving my number with them. Randall flag is hiding somewhere out there and he's too scared to come out.

Or God forbid, he was hit. I can't stop thinking about that right now. The officers help me relax and take me back to my car back north of the highway. I detect him with the troopers helps me look around the car again, just in case. No, Randall. My car is now dead when I try to start it because the hazard lights were on too long. Great. I have some jumper cables stuff inside of my car somewhere, but my car is full of stuff since I'm moving, so I have to start pulling things out. The trooper with me didn't have cables, somehow. So I'm pulling bags out to access the area where the cables are.

When I see mother-epping Randall Flags fuzzy black bud inside a half-full garbage bag that had a lot of my clothes and towels in it, he's totally asleep, peaceful as a fat baby. I apologize to the officers profuse sleep, but they're completely professional about it, just glad that he's been found. They help me jump my car and get it rolling again.

I stayed much closer to the speed limit after that. Randall Flag and I safely made it to Chicago the next day. He's extremely comfortable here at my dads. Today I f'd up by accidentally rick rolling 8 cities. I currently work for my local government and their communications department making videos, flyers, social media posts, and pretty much everything else they need. Part of the job involves putting in placeholder text and links since I'll be told, we need a link to this resource but it's not available yet.

There's an unspoken agreement that if I'm not given an actual link, I'll link to random things. Sometimes it's a viral video, sometimes it's an anime meme, and sometimes it's a music video to what I'm listening to. This is just for the rough draft, so it doesn't matter, and it just gives me something fun to do. For the past few months, I've been working on a large campaign of flyers to promote a program to my neighboring area of half a million people.

At the time, I was listening to a lot of 80s new wave, and I decided to see if anyone was actually testing that the QR codes and shortners worked, so I directed everything to go to Rick Asley. I figured that if anyone checked it, I'd get an email commenting on it. Time goes by, the official links are the last to be given to me so I add them in. I send everything to my supervisor to approve before going to the printer to have 5,000 copies printed of each variation. My work with the project is done now, and now it's up to other people to start putting up the flyers while I move on to the next project.

That was two weeks ago. This morning, I get pulled into a Zoom meeting with the other department heads in their bosses. They ask me about the link, and I tell them that I check the QR code and shorten her before sending it in for a review, and if there's an error to look at the printer, I even pulled up the finalized versions and verified that it works. They get more serious and say that the printer wouldn't replace the links with the music video, thinking that I screwed it up or just did it on purpose. It turns out that the posters and flyers have been put up around the county

and local businesses, bus stops, out lobbies, etc. and email started to come in. I'm more surprised that anyone actually used the QR codes and links to begin with. After getting grilled and thinking that I was going to be fired, I forwarded the email that I sent to my supervisor with a final version of the graphics and they went to the correct links. The best that we can figure out is that since there had been dozens of versions over a few months, that someone along the chain of commands mixed up an earlier version that included the Rick Roll link when placing the order.

But no one wants to take the blame for it. We're currently in the process of recalling everything, and debating on having stickers printed out to cover their links, or pay to have everything reprinted. Even though it wasn't MY fault, I'm not supposed to use dummy links and QR codes to go to an image of a tree. My time of adding random music videos has been halted. Opie, it's too bad that they changed their rules and now you can't link to whatever you want to. image of a tree. My time of adding random music videos has been halted. Opie, it's too bad that they changed the rules and now you can't link to whatever you want to.

So now, you know the rules, and so do I! That was our Slash Today I F-Dup, and if you like this content, check out my Patreon where I publish extra episodes. Also, be sure to follow my podcast because I put on your Reddit podcast episodes every single day. podcast because I put on new Reddit podcast episodes every single day.