My friend came over with this, to help my trip along in the giggles department. Honestly I swear to God I was in actual trouble, serious physical distress 😂😂😂and he had to stop reading it
This is it below..
I’m divorcing my husband because of his farts & also everyone thinks I’m the honeycomb wife
TLDR: I’m divorcing my husband because of his farts. But for the love, please read the whole thing before you comment. Fr.
{Edit #1: Okay so since thousands do not believe me, I did a 2 min impromptu interview with the guy when he dropped off some of my old stuff yesterday, since we still live in the same complex. I will post on Tik Tok today. I could post here or YouTube if that’s easier. I’ll get called a Tik Tok clout chaser either way so who cares.
Anywho, he verified that it’s true. IM NOT LYING. None of this is me joking, I had had like two margaritas, was kid free that weekend and it was 1am when I originally rage posted this. The extreme detail was fueled by petty rage, not AI. But, your comments are SENDING ME 😂
Edit #2: I was told to post this on like 5 subs cuz copy pasta got so wild. Idk the appropriate Reddit way and what’s ok or not and I’m kind of an idiot so plz keep that in mind. I mean no harm.}
I truly wish this were a joke. Part of this whole situation is on me for not dating him for a long time before we got married, and a big chunk of that dating was spent having completely lost my sense of smell from Covid. That fact alone is absolutely unbelievable but it’s true. Side note, I got my smell back. The other wild part is that when we were dating, he hung over at my place mainly, and I didn’t carry a lot of unhealthy snacks for him to snack on at night. This fact is VERY relevant for the story.
Once we got married, things went downhill very quickly. He started inhailing as many snacks and as much dairy as possible at night. Sometimes he would go out and get a deep dish, fried cheese, loaded pizza and devour it at 11 PM after eating an entire bag of greasy chips and like 27 pieces of taffy. And a glass of milk. Or 3.
At first I thought it was just a bad fart here and there. But as the nights progressed, I realized that the bad farts were becoming a nightly nightmare.
I know what normal stinky farts are. Even bad sulfuric farts. But, these are not simply either of those. These farts are incompatible with life itself.
The first time one really hit me in the face, I projectile vomited. I could taste them. They were are almost tangible objects in the air. I’m convinced they are soaked into the carpet and walls. Rotten egg is not even enough to describe what the smell is. It’s almost as if something literally died inside of his stomach and was leaking into the air trying to kill anyone that smells it.
His farts are not human. They are not silly little rotten egg farts. There is something wrong with him. Truly. These farts are almost alive with a mind of their own, and they are terrifying. If there was a horror movie made about farts, it would be about his.
They are unsettling at best. They make your mind feel like something bad happened, perhaps a murder. Your spirit does not feel settled because these are not normal farts in anyway at all. These are violently horrifying.
It got to the point where I had to stop sleeping in our bedroom the second month of marriage. Not only that, but I had to blast the AC, stuff towels under our door, stuff towels under my daughter’s door, turn the fan on in both rooms, and sleep in her room with her. He snuck into her room and farted when I was almost asleep so that I would start dry heaving. I had to start sleeping with the door locked with her.
I started routine prescription nausea medicine to keep my food down at night, just in case, because it was becoming kind of health hazard because of how sick it was making me.
When I asked him if he thought the amount of food he was inhaling every night was causing his farts, he said yes. I asked if maybe he could slow down or substitute for healthier snacks, such as sea salt popcorn, or a bit lighter and less full of thick cheese snacks, and he said no. His reasoning? He said he likes the way the farts feel exiting his butt as they vibrate his prostate and butt hole. Like I’m not even kidding-HE FREAKING SAID THAT.
I’m so horrified that I even typed that.
My life became a living nightmare as I could no longer sleep in my room and also remain alive. My desk was in my room, so I also had to stop working in the daytime from my bedroom. He works from home in the bedroom too. I had to change the entire situation just to cater to the pleasure of his farts.
I tried desperately to get him to go to a doctor, I found referrals to gastroenterologists, I bought him probiotics enzymes, milk substitutes, I cooked healthy meals, he would literally tell me he didn’t want the healthy meal and drive himself to Taco Bell instead. He refused to go to the doctor. He took the probiotic sometimes but usually just pretended to and slipped them by his nightstand so I wouldn’t see that he didn’t take them.
Knowing I was going to have to remain on prescription nausea meds, possibly for life, just to cohabitate with this man was so mind blowing. Our budget was going crazy to keep up with the demands of the amount of food needed to keep his farting for pleasure needs met. At one point, he literally inhaled so much food so fast and so nonstop that he gained 12 pounds in 48 hours and he looked at the scale and screamed.
I tried to get him into therapy and a psychiatrist, but no. I am a very body positive person that does not fat shame and genuinely believes that you should eat what makes you feel healthy and good and not worry about hitting some numbers on a scale.
The situation, however, feels like a very disastrous issue that is very weird and not very common, something that people probably can’t relate to because it’s just completely absurd in every way.
He said he will always choose that vibrational fart feeling and the fart smell and the grease snacks and the cheese above me. He said that is a hill he is forever willing to die on.
Anyway, that is the story of why I am divorcing my husband over farts. On the surface level, I know it sounds like it’s just about farts and then I’m just a really shallow wife, but I think it’s actually so much deeper. It’s just hard to explain how.
