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only real Ayaa can build the perfect pyramid How do I get my husband to stop going ‘Goblin Mode’ during sex?
How do I get my husband to stop going ‘Goblin Mode’ during sex?
TLDR; My husband says ‘Goblin Mode activated’ when we start to have sex, growls and acts like a caveman, and then says ‘Goblin Mode off’ when we stop, and then pretends not to remember afterward.
I really love my husband and he’s always been great in bed. But recently he’s been acting really weird. So, a couple of days ago, my son went on a rampage through our house and said he was in ‘Goblin Mode’. We didn’t really know what to do with him, so we sent him to live with my parents so he can go to a special needs school. My husband a really great relationship with our son and loved him more than anything. Naturally, he was upset when he had to leave. He’s an incredibly tough man, but this was the first time I’ve ever seen him cry. I think since then, he’s been a little emotionally unwell. I’ve heard him muttering, ‘Goblin’ repeatedly when he didn’t notice me, staring blankly into his food, and just going alone by himself to do who knows what. I feel awful for him, but we both agreed that this was for the best. Last night, the day after our son went away, we decided to have sex to relieve our stress. However, my husband said ‘Goblin Mode activated’, starting growling, and went wild having sex with me. Admittedly, it was some of the best and most experimental sex I’ve ever had, but I’m worried that something might be going on with my husband. Any advice?
Edit: The problem isn’t the ‘Goblin Mode’, it’s that he could be ill
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Infinite poop. You sit on the toilet to poop, but the poop never stops coming out of your butt. You have to start flushing the toilet every two minutes to keep up. You try to pinch your butt closed but that makes your insides hurt. The poop accelerates. You call 911. The paramedics call for doctors. The doctors call for specialists. The story trends on Twitter. You turn down talk show appearances. Your septic tank fails. People form a cult. Your toilet is finished. Volunteers arrive with buckets and shovels. You are completely used to the smell. The poop accelerates. You are moved to a stepladder with a hole in the top step. The poop accelerates. The shovelers abandon the buckets and shovel directly out the window. The poop accelerates. A candlelight vigil forms around your house. One of the workers falls over and can't free himself. The poop accelerates. A priest knocks over the stepladder and tackles you out the window. You land in the pile. The poop accelerates. The force now propels you forward and upward. Vigil goers grab at your legs. The poop ignites from their candles. The Facebook live event hits 1 million viewers. The poop accelerates. You are 30 feet in the air. The fire engulfs the vigil and your house. 60 feet. The poop accelerates. The torrent underneath you is deafening. 5 million Facebook live viewers. You try to close up shop but your butthole disintegrated long ago. 120 feet up. Your house explodes. The poop accelerates. 1000 feet. You are now tracked on radar. You try to change your angle of ascent but you should have thought of that way earlier. The poop accelerates. 4,000 feet. NORAD upgrades to DEFCON 3. Concentric circles of fire engulf your city. The poop accelerates. You have broken the sound barrier. 30,000 feet. You no longer take in enough oxygen to sustain consciousness. 60,000 feet. CNN is reporting on all the world records you've broken. 200,000 feet. You are no longer alive. The poop accelerates. Your body disintegrates but your poop contrail remains. NASA can no longer track you. You break the light-speed barrier and we can no longer bear witness. The poop accelerates. Forever.
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