we've drifted, i notice. from belches by blueshead to erudition on farts.
one becomes a fart connoisseur by lifting blankets. lots and lots of blankets.
belches... eructations.. can stink the place up, too. witness the drunk who's been bleeding into his esophagus while vomiting. they always swallow air and end up belching foul fumes.
my favorite fart story: this tiny little woman was unconcious and laying flat in bed. she was so thin that you could see the flatus churning in her bowel; her belly jumped and blooped and writhed like a nest of snakes. she was moaning. her husband, who loved her dearly, reached under the blankets and tickled her anus until she let out this amazing long whistling fart. he smiled and said: "her farts have never stunk". (oh yes it did).
heh.. sorry blueshead, at least on my part. it's good to be reminded that "normal and usual" is a highly variable concept. one person's "aww, what a sweet story" is another person's lemon party.