"This must be what they meant when they said 'For better or for worse'", my husband said to me tonight. This was in reference to the foul stench that has been leaking from his behind for the past 24 hours. Now, I'm not one of those prissy girls that thinks farting is "ew, gross"... in fact, I think the act of passing gas is one of nature's greatest stabs at humor. I still giggle if my bum makes the sound of a duck, or if I leave a "silent but deadly" somewhere around the house. But tonight has changed the meaning of bad gas forever. What is currently taking place in my home can only be described as wrong, sinful, and volatile. I'm being assaulted by an invisible force that comes in waves every 10 minutes or so. It's as if my husband ate a dying animal that had ALSO eaten a smaller dying animal... and both of those rotting carcasses are seeping out of him in such a way that it should leave a color or some sort of liquid in it's place. It's so palpable, it's almost chewy. I just threw up a little in my mouth. If I don't live until tomorrow, someone please come look for my body.....