I was going to quit drinking, but then Spring break showed up. Oh well.
I haven’t loved my mother in a long, long time.
You can have my husband, but please don’t mess with my man.
Her long dark hair and pony tail totally turn me on.
I only took French hoping to impress him. Now I am failing and it is all for naught.
My friend really is a nice person, but sometimes, I want to tell her to suck it up and shut the hell up.
One of my earliest public lies was telling my fourth grade teacher I’d written the lyrics to Roger Miller’s “King of the Road.”
I slept with my brother in law when I was six months pregant, but only because my husband wouldn’t touch me.
My first cousin is a slamming hottie and she likes it when I spank her - we hope our parents don’t find out.
My first cousin is a slamming hottie and she likes it when I spank her - we hope our parents don’t find out.
If marijuana was legal I’d grow some next to my tomato plants.
I never liked the look of Mariah Carey, even if she does look like I could talk her into anything.
It’s a good thing the windows on this office building don’t open.
My mom doesn’t love me.
It took me about 30 years to start thinking Sheena Easton was hot.
Album names like “Rock Paper Scissors Dynamite” make me smile.
I slept with my brother’s girlfriend.
I drank the Kool-Aid.
I’ve never taken a taxi.
Mistakes were made.
I am SO ANGRY.
Sometimes I hide from the world and read.
I really can’t decide if it would be better to minimize the new things I do that I need to confess in 2010 or if I should set out to maximize confessable activity.
I smile and make friendly noises when my family gets up at 10am on the weekend, but secretly I think they’re a bunch of lazy sloths who’ve wasted the best hours of the day.
the beans made me really really gassy, yet i felt compelled to get a couple frozen burritos for later.
I’m extremely afraid that google is going to auto-fill or suggest I recover a recently-viewed redtube video at an really inopportune moment.
I’m going to try to give at least half the people at the Christmas party crabs.
I gave everyone at the xmas party lice.
I also robbed Peter to pay Paul. It is comforting to know that I am not alone.
I just robbed Peter to pay Paul.
I ate Santa’s cookies and drank his milk.
I’m a really forgiving pushover kind of person, but eventually if you only ever contact me when you need something from me, I’m going to notice and you’re not going to be my friend any more.
I blow all of my money on booze just so I don’t have to stay home alone.
I’ve never had a prostate exam and I’m so not looking forward to it that I may choose death over examination.
I must confess, you put “erection” and “prostate exam” together in a sentence and without even getting to writing style, the field of likely authors is pretty thin… I’m guessing not Bakerina or Jadedbeauty.
I worry that people might recognize my writing style and my confessions aren’t actually all that anonymous.
Pursuant to my last confession - I wonder if my Dr. realizes that her gloved fingers in my butt arouses me or if she thinks its just a reaction to the exam, a reaction I have never had before ever.
My doctor is a very attractive woman which makes the erection I get during my yearly prostate exam somewhat embarrasing.
I could have, and I almost did, but at the last moment I decided not to.
I have no idea how to tell when a man is interested in me.
ohgod, oh god, it’s amazing how much of my life i’ve wasted and how i continue doing it every day.
I think I might still love him and I don’t think I really mind.
I am still acting like a born-again Christian in certain circles. I feel like a hypocrite, but it does keep things peaceful.
Well THAT was the most horrible conversation I’ve had in a long time.
I’m concerned about what will happen to me now that he’s gone.
I’ve never eaten homemade pecan pie.
I watch the Tyra show regularly to make myself feel smart.
I will survive this just as i survived all the others
I’d like change my hairstyle, but I’m afraid.
I did a disservice to my community, I saw a man reading Careys autobiography (pftt, as if) and didnt snatch it from the mans hand and burn it on the spot.
I should not have went back.
I may or may not just like him because he smells so good.
I give great blowjobs.
Sometimes I wonder if the only way I’ll ever get a good blowjob will be to go out with a guy.
She lied to me and I let her.
I know I’ll never have sex again; what’s worse is that I’m finally resigned to it.
I’m lurking in the shadows on a search for inspiration.
I’m jealous of you.
I was oddly disappointed by the underwhelmingly repetitive duckscrines.
I have to force myself to talk to people.
My best friend’s wife lets me gently squeeze her ass when no one else is looking.
I have only spoken two complete sentences in the last 24 hours.
I have never been to confession, but I have caused many.
I can’t remember what life was like before this big worry started looming over my head.
I thought I might have ruined my credit report, but it turns out they love all my debt.
I’m oddly unhappy about John Malkovich getting old.
I just watched Dexter all night long.
When I’m dieting, I snack on gummi bears because I hate them so much I can’t eat more than a couple at a time.
I’d sell my soul if anyone was buying.
Some things are better left unsaid, and very occasionally I succeed in not saying them.
If it is possible to be a female chauvanist, I am one.
I’m afraid that my behind knows who I want to call better than I do.
I just skimmed.
I know this is what I asked for, but this is not what I want. I have successfully destroyed my own life.
I was still too afraid to come out.
I hate every Right-wing, Southern Baptist, racist, NRA card toting Republican with whom I went to high school, yet, I cannot bring myself to deleting them from my Facebook.
If all the google searches I’ve run were disclosed the world would recoil in feigned shock… as if *you* haven’t run a perfectly innocent search “Bakerina fellating candy bar” looking for an old blog entry.
I want to google myself, but I’m afraid I’ll go blind.
If I don’t have sex soon, I am going to lose my mind.
Sometimes I don’t shave before I scrine.
I’d rather spend time making up a mind-blowing cardboard sign and standing in a busy intersection than go through another job interview.
Tuesday is doomsday. I’m embarrassed to say that I will even miss the hangovers.
I have been known to scrine from the privacy of my own toilet.
moving to a new city and i wish i could stay and he would go
I’m sad for the person that has never experienced the joy of an extra dirty vodka martini.
I’ve never had a martini.
I once got locked out of my apartment when I wasn’t wearing a shirt.
I’m going to try not to be so mean, but I doubt I’ll succeed.
I have a feeling that I may be dying.
I just wish that he cared enough to get pissed off.
The hair in my ear is extremely well rooted.
I drank too much last night and I’m not sure what I did, but I today I have a nauseating fear of looking in my car’s trunk.
For the first time in months, I feel no pain. (No alcohol or drugs were consumed in the creation of the foregoing sentence)
they made me do it
I’m not sorry to see you go.
My stomach is like a marshmallow - puffed up, white and flabby, with a dusting of fragrant powder.
I’m also tired of being ignored in cyberspace, but too lazy to make new friends there.
I’m tired of being ignored in cyber space…WTF
If this continues I’ll have to declare bankruptcy.
I decided it was time to tell my friend he was making bad decisions; we’ll see how well or badly this goes.