Two tipsy women sneak into a graveyard to pee. One uses her panties to wipe with and throws them away, the other one uses a ribbon from a wreath.
The next day, one husband calls the other:
“My wife came home last night not wearing any panties!”
The other husband replies:
“That’s nothing! My wife had a card stuck between her butt cheeks that said, ‘From all of us at the fire station, we’ll never forget you!’”
Some choices don’t sparkle—they strike. You think you’re just drawn to a pretty ring, but your hand keeps drifting back to the same curve, the same weight,…
They appear quietly, almost politely. A faint interruption in the smooth surface you thought you knew. You catch them in the wrong light, and suddenly you can’t…
The news broke like a quiet storm. A rising voice, suddenly silenced, just as the world was beginning to listen. She had stood on massive stages, yet…
She was never meant to be a headline. Born behind bars, tagged as inmate property, she should have disappeared into the system and stayed there. Instead, she…
It was never just a pin. That tiny hole at the tip is a quiet rebellion against frustration, a built‑in secret only a few ever noticed. Once…
The first line hit like a confession, and I felt my stomach drop. I wasn’t supposed to care about a cute café card, yet there I was,…