Human males are funny things. When not getting drunk on beer and yelling football chants, they’re scratching themselves or indulging in crazed eating experiments.

Today’s human female has such a problem. Her husband is on what can only be described as an instant noodles frenzy as Santa Claus once documented (in an EXCLUSIVE column with us in 2023).

Luckily, we’re on hand to bring this man (the husband, not Santa) back from the brink of otherwise almost certain chronic flatulence.

Husband’s Insane Instant Noodle Obsession

Dear agony aunt,

My husband is 43-years-old and he’s called Barry. He was the man of my dreams… until recently. He’s changed. He’s started eating a lot more instant noodles than he used to. Like, a lot more. Previously, when we got married, he didn’t really eat them at all. And now? He eats at least 25 packets a day! He gets them all into a giant bowl, starts roaring mighty loud, and then devours them all in a berserk frenzy.

Once he’s finished he’s got instant noodle juice all over his shirt.

It’s not very attractive.

Then he goes out and buys more instant noodles.

This has been going on for three months. Finally, one night I snapped. I was trying to enjoy a soppy romantic flick on TV, but all I could hear was the disgusting noises of Barry slobbering his way through instant noodles. That and the war cry of doom he does before he starts eating them. It’s ridiculous! So I drank half a bottle of wine to get my nerves up and cornered him, “What’s with this instant noodle routine, Barry!?” I shrieked at him.

He instantly (probably because of the instant nature of instant noodles) got extremely defensive and denied he’d been eating any instant noodles.

It wasn’t a very convincing argument, because there were still instant noodles in the bowl he was eating from. I pointed this out to him, but he accused me of being drunk and disorderly.

The next night… he did it again! So I challenged him again, this time without the wine so he couldn’t accuse me of being drunk and disorderly again. But he did! He just said, “Babe, you’re drunk again.” And I said I’d had no wine at all. So he just said, “Well, then, like, you’re clearly hallucinating because of alcohol withdrawal.” His arguments sound like classic gaslighting to me.

Eventually I’d had enough so stole his phone and checked through his emails.

This is where it gets very weird.

He’s joined two instant noodle cults! One is called The Brothful Order and the other is The Society of the Savoury Slurp. I checked out the websites for these and although different organisations, they appear to have the same goals. This is word for word on The Society of the Savoury Slurp:

“Oh brothers, we are united in the cause of eating an abundance of instant noodles each and every night. Ignore the protestations of thine better half. Accuse her of witchcraft or drunken insanity if she persists with her incessant nagging. Focus on the community goal. Eat instant noodles. Beseech. The True Noodle Master is committed to the cause.”

That freaked me out, so I had half a bottle of wine and confronted my husband about all of this. He flipped! He began bellowing that I was getting in the way of him becoming a “True Noodle Master”. He says this is only achievable by eating huge quantities of instant noodles.

I asked him if he has piles and he said, yes, it’s a badge of honour for those who pursue the holy status of being a True Noodle Master.

Well… I think he’s lost his shit. What do I do about this madman? Thankfully, we don’t have kids! How do I initiate divorce proceedings? Yours, Lydia

Hi there, Lydia. Slurprise! We’re also members of The Society of the Savoury Slurp (🍜), but we don’t take kindly to your SLANDEROUS DEFAMATION AND LIES about this most glorious of organisations.

We won’t report you to the police (just yet).

Instead, we’re presenting you with the opportunity to Soba up. As Udon know the true meaning of joy, love, and eternal happiness until you’ve consumed 29 packets of instant noodles in the space of 45 minutes.

It’s rapturous joy. And it provides true meaning to one’s life. Join us, Lydia. Repeat the below mantra and enter into the holy boiling kettle ceremony of instant noodles:

“I, Lydia, former heathen and blasphemer to the instant noodle cause, apologise for my disgusting conduct. I prostrate myself before my incredible husband, Barry, in apology for my insulting behaviour. To complete the process of forgiveness, I hereby bind my soul to the instant noodles cause. I am now an honorary member of The Society of the Savoury Slurp and recognise it is my duty to slay anyone who criticises the cause with a pair of chopsticks. Ramen.”

There you go, Lydia, you’re absolved of your crimes against instant noodles. Now, go forth and preach the good word! 🍜