Dear PostSecret,

Thank you for ruining my faith in people. I used to be a pretty trusting person, but after reading one sick confession after another on your website, you have turned me into a paranoid schizophrenic. Now I can’t help but wonder: is the culinary artist at Wendy’s whose nametag reads “Bertha” masturbating with the carrots before she cuts them up into my delicious cobb salad? Was my high school girlfriend’s vagina real or was it a surgical masterpiece? It did look kinda funny and I always wondered why her “clit” had smegma around it. Since it’s only safe to assume that the rest of the world is bending me over and fucking me from behind, then I’m at least gonna push back (btw girls, the pushback is common courtesy). So here are my top 5 recent secrets. They should be flooding your mailbox soon:

1. I babysat a mute kid and pulled down his pants to compare. He beat me out in the flaccid category, but I managed a tie with the little bastard once we were both hard. The erection is the great equalizer.

2. I snorted cocaine…off a toilet…in the women’s bathroom…at church…with the preacher’s wife.

3. I realized the slow disappearance of my milk coincided with my roommate leaving for work every morning with his piping hot cup of Java. So I refrained from masturbating for an entire week and then unleashed a Peter North-sized load in what was left. Do you like cream with your coffee bitch?

4. I recently developed an eating disorder. It’s called cannibalism.

5. I talked to a hot girl at the bar for 30 mins and bought her drinks while she waited for “company”. When her “company” turned out to be her boyfriend, I put my hand down my pants and gave my undercarriage a good, long swipe right before I introduced myself and shook his hand. I hope she now has a UTI.

Fighting fire with fire,

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