FartmingerFuckwadCheesest
"Oh, no, incoming fart attack!"
- Joined
- Apr 26, 2025
- Messages
- 16,454
It's been a few months since I abruptly and rudely deserted my bald man with glasses forum account with no explanation or reason given as to why I did that; I neglected to inform anyone of this.
Even those of whom I'm closest with, and I'm sorry, truly. It's inconsiderate, and I acknowledge that, but I have my reasons, and those reasons I am finally going to share with you today.
To home in on the point, I want to clarify: these are issues that are sensitive for me personally, issues that have resulted in prolonged struggle and internal conflict, and issues that have resulted in self-harm/self-medication (substance abuse provoked by intrusive thoughts and me denying myself my truth, the truth), but I know you will disapprove of it and perhaps lose respect for me, which I do understand but disagree with, as at the end of the day, I'm still me. I haven't changed in that regard, and if you choose to not accept me for who I am or decide to cut contact with me, that's on you, and shame on you.
Anywho, the point. The point at which I now feel comfortable enough to disclose these reasons after all this time of silence. The deafening silence. Radio silence. A voice stifled before a murmur could be uttered. The spine-tingling, bone-chilling truth of the matter, which I must now disclose, right now, while you're still reading this, probably itching to put on some subway surfers at one of the bottom corners of your screen or listen to some Mango Gorillion Brostep Phonk because you are dying of boredom.
I'm non-binary. This means I don't identify with either the male or female sex; I am both an in-between and a neither, even though I have a gigantic dong that really isn't gender affirming, imo. I'm thinking of getting a penis reduction surgery in the near future to correct this.
I have also left my wife of nearly forty years for a man; his name is José Guac Leeman-Borderhopperberg, and as beautiful as his name is, I know he looks like the unholy hybrid of John C. Reilly, Clint Howard, Vincent Schiavelli, and Penn Jillette all in one stinky, brappy, amerimutt meatpie, and he circumcised his penis so far back that he inverted it into a neo-vajayjay axe wound that smells like the tenth circle of hell that wasn't mentioned in Dante's Inferno, but I transheart him; I love him with all my heart, and I hope that ICE never gets ported over to the UK because I don't want them to send him back to Guatemala because a third world shithole is still a shithole, no matter how labour (pro-Tony Blair) I am.
My name isn't Fartminger anymore; no, it's Themmminger. And I don't have fart attacks anymore... I have realistic panic attacks, like the heckin' realistic depictions of panic attacks in films like "The Secret Life of Pets" or "The Secret Life of Pets 2" or, my favorite, "Minions 4: Bob has a realistic panic attack and needs to be comforted"
If you have any burning questions regarding my process of self discovery and publicly reconciling with the 'cord but ever so subtly imply that you disagree with MY life choices, I WILL report you to the authorities and have them have YOU [detained] for hate speech.
That is not a threat; I am not procreating a joke; rather, I am aborting a joke because that is what I am willing to do to guarantee my own protection & safety during these trying times, because my mental health is above all else right now.
I am a sreal womang, powerful & independent, bold, breathtaking they/them crusader of social justice and vocal combatant of inequity in climate, social climate, the crack in your mum's backside's climate, law, and otherwise. I put the SOCIAL in SOCIAList. You take the 'ist' part, you problematic rac'ist' scumbags.
- Themminger, living my truth to the fullest. <3
Even those of whom I'm closest with, and I'm sorry, truly. It's inconsiderate, and I acknowledge that, but I have my reasons, and those reasons I am finally going to share with you today.
To home in on the point, I want to clarify: these are issues that are sensitive for me personally, issues that have resulted in prolonged struggle and internal conflict, and issues that have resulted in self-harm/self-medication (substance abuse provoked by intrusive thoughts and me denying myself my truth, the truth), but I know you will disapprove of it and perhaps lose respect for me, which I do understand but disagree with, as at the end of the day, I'm still me. I haven't changed in that regard, and if you choose to not accept me for who I am or decide to cut contact with me, that's on you, and shame on you.
Anywho, the point. The point at which I now feel comfortable enough to disclose these reasons after all this time of silence. The deafening silence. Radio silence. A voice stifled before a murmur could be uttered. The spine-tingling, bone-chilling truth of the matter, which I must now disclose, right now, while you're still reading this, probably itching to put on some subway surfers at one of the bottom corners of your screen or listen to some Mango Gorillion Brostep Phonk because you are dying of boredom.
I'm non-binary. This means I don't identify with either the male or female sex; I am both an in-between and a neither, even though I have a gigantic dong that really isn't gender affirming, imo. I'm thinking of getting a penis reduction surgery in the near future to correct this.
I have also left my wife of nearly forty years for a man; his name is José Guac Leeman-Borderhopperberg, and as beautiful as his name is, I know he looks like the unholy hybrid of John C. Reilly, Clint Howard, Vincent Schiavelli, and Penn Jillette all in one stinky, brappy, amerimutt meatpie, and he circumcised his penis so far back that he inverted it into a neo-vajayjay axe wound that smells like the tenth circle of hell that wasn't mentioned in Dante's Inferno, but I transheart him; I love him with all my heart, and I hope that ICE never gets ported over to the UK because I don't want them to send him back to Guatemala because a third world shithole is still a shithole, no matter how labour (pro-Tony Blair) I am.
My name isn't Fartminger anymore; no, it's Themmminger. And I don't have fart attacks anymore... I have realistic panic attacks, like the heckin' realistic depictions of panic attacks in films like "The Secret Life of Pets" or "The Secret Life of Pets 2" or, my favorite, "Minions 4: Bob has a realistic panic attack and needs to be comforted"
If you have any burning questions regarding my process of self discovery and publicly reconciling with the 'cord but ever so subtly imply that you disagree with MY life choices, I WILL report you to the authorities and have them have YOU [detained] for hate speech.
That is not a threat; I am not procreating a joke; rather, I am aborting a joke because that is what I am willing to do to guarantee my own protection & safety during these trying times, because my mental health is above all else right now.
I am a sreal womang, powerful & independent, bold, breathtaking they/them crusader of social justice and vocal combatant of inequity in climate, social climate, the crack in your mum's backside's climate, law, and otherwise. I put the SOCIAL in SOCIAList. You take the 'ist' part, you problematic rac'ist' scumbags.
- Themminger, living my truth to the fullest. <3
