eructation \ih-ruhk-TAY-shuhn\, noun;
1. The act of belching; a belch.
Oh yeah, calling the act of belching "eructation" makes it so much more classy.
Edit to add something that triggered an old memory and probably should be left unmentioned, but what the heck, huh?
I used to roughneck on a drilling rig with a guy - he was on the daylight shift, the crew that relieved mine; I worked morning tour and would try my best to either be dressed before he got there or would wait until he had dressed and was gone from the doghouse.
He was an obnoxious jerk, and I tried to avoid him as best as I could, but that wasn't the reason I didn't want to be around him; no, it was because he had a horrible habit of belching with such velocity that it was like a punch in the face even standing at the other end of the doghouse. I cannot describe his "eructation" with the horrible accuracy it deserves, but his burps smelled like a flatulent skunk which had eaten rotten eggs and lived in a septic tank.
The guy drank beer all the time, even sneaking a few out on the rig when he could get by with it. He often bragged about knocking back a case of beer after work and I had personally seen him peel an onion and eat it like an apple. He was also partial to some sort of odorous, soft, runny cheese; I don't remember the name of the cheese, but it smelled like stinky feet. It was no wonder his burps smelled so bad, especially after beer, raw onions and cheese aged in a dirty sock had been fermenting in his stomach all night. Bless his poor wife.
His burps were far worse than any, ANY fart I've ever had the misfortune to smell.
A few years later I was out of a job because of one of the several oil field recessions I went though in my roughnecking career. I was offered work by a man I really liked and respected, but when I found out the "burper" was on the crew, I had to decline. I could only imagine how bad it would be to ride back and forth to and from work with him.
