A friend of mine lost her husband; he fell ill and passed away before they had a chance to have children. Two years later, she got pregnant—but the baby's father vanished. He simply disappeared; to this day, no one knows where he is or what became of him. She gave birth to a boy, and he turned out to be a carbon copy of her late husband—an exact duplicate. The boy is growing up, and with every passing year, he looks more and more like the deceased man—even when compared to old photographs, they are absolutely identical. Her mother-in-law—the late husband's mother—absolutely dotes on the little one, even though he isn't her biological grandchild at all. She brings over baby photos of her late son, and it’s uncanny—they look like twins. It feels like some kind of miracle; it’s fascinating, yet at the same time, a little frightening… It’s almost supernatural.

Nobody can top the reason my last relationship ended: I hit a woman with my car. I called my boyfriend and asked him «Come! I just ran over an old lady—the stupid bitch was trying to cross the street on a red light.» He showed up. The «stupid old bitch» turned out to be his mother.

A female friend suggested a threesome (FMF), and—fool that I am—I agreed. I’m certainly no sex god; sometimes I struggle even with just one woman, because no matter how tired you are, you feel like you have to prove yourself every time and ensure she gets off. But with two women? That’s double the pressure. I was incredibly nervous—I even popped a pill just to make sure I wouldn't flop. It actually went well; they seemed to enjoy it (or at least, that’s what they said), and now they’re dropping hints about doing it again. No thanks. Afterward, my whole body ached from exhaustion for two straight days.

Spring fever—it’s a real thing. Yesterday, a neighbor lady cornered me in the stairwell and started screaming at me because I cook meals at home, and the smell wafts through the entire building. I’m not talking about a *stench*, mind you—I mean a *smell*. A delicious one. The funny thing is, that very same woman’s husband keeps asking me to cook him some of whatever I’m making.

I hopped into a minibus taxi, spotted the last remaining seat—and sat down. At a bus stop, an elderly woman boards; the doors close, and the bus pulls away. Suddenly, the driver slams on the brakes. The old woman begins to fall, and in that instant, every instinct and bit of training I possess kicked in: I managed to grab her by the elbow, pull her toward me, and—in the process—guide her down onto my seat. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a little girl toppling into the aisle; already in the midst of falling onto some guy myself, I instinctively tossed my tactical backpack into the aisle—it held my work sweater and trousers—and the child landed safely right on top of it. I, meanwhile, landed on the guy. There was a second of stunned silence inside the bus, followed by a simple question from the conductor: «Are you a ninja?»

I have a fantastic athletic figure: firm, size-3 breasts, a trim waist, a nice butt, and great legs. I’m pretty good-looking, too. While I was pregnant, my husband nearly cheated on me (I’m practically a female Sherlock Holmes). I get it, though—a wife with a big baby bump isn't exactly as attractive anymore… After giving birth, I actually became even slimmer, and I retained about 90% of my breast size. Now, he’s just as obsessed with me as he was before the pregnancy. But I still can’t bring myself to forgive him. And so, I’m going to cheat on him. After that stunt he pulled, I have no desire to be faithful anymore.

The most vivid memory from my childhood is a New Year's Eve when I was staying overnight with my aunt, and her drunk friends came over. One of them threw up all over the bathroom—but not before sweeping all the cosmetics off the shelf and into the tub first. The other one face-planted onto the sofa—exclaiming, «Oh, this feels so good!»—right into the spot where a tomcat had peed just a couple of minutes earlier.

The night before my thesis defense—despite the fact that I already had a boyfriend—I somehow ended up on Chatroulette. Naked. It was actually pretty fun showing myself off; it really turned me on. I ended up running into a guy there. Long story short, we spent three hours together—doing exactly what you’d expect. Some kind of crazy chemistry kicked in; I hadn't felt such intense desire in ages—I was practically trembling. To this day, I still remember his dazzling smile… and his cock. I haven't gone back on there since. He gave me his contact info, but I don't think I could bring myself to reach out—my conscience is eating at me, even though the experience itself was awesome.

One time, I sat down next to a girl on a bus. We hit it off, started talking, went on dates, fell in love… and then she cheated on me and left. Now, whenever there’s an empty seat on public transport, I think a thousand times before sitting down next to a cute girl. Just in case she ends up ruining my life all over again...

A girl recently added me on social media. She kept messaging me saying she wanted to get to know me—even after I’d turned her down several times. Eventually, I told her to get lost in pretty harsh terms. And I did it all because I already have a girlfriend I love. As it turned out later, *she* was the girlfriend I loved. She had been testing me using a fake profile. Now she’s furious with me for talking to her so rudely while she was messaging me from that fake account.

My brother’s ex-wife—after watching way too many online «life coaches»—filed for divorce. She decided she was a «goddess» who «deserved better.» She took out a bunch of loans because she wanted to open a beauty studio and go into business for herself. But then everything went completely to hell: she blew through all her money and had no way to pay off her loans. She tried to move back in with my brother, but he told her to get lost—and he was absolutely right to do so. He actually had a new girlfriend by then—a good woman: calm and much more down-to-earth. He proposed to her, but his ex just wouldn't let it go. She tried to sabotage things and cooked up all sorts of schemes, but it was all completely pointless. My brother’s wedding day arrived, and we had a fantastic celebration. We spent the second day celebrating outdoors. Then her mother—my brother’s ex-mother-in-law—showed up and caused a huge scene. She demanded to know what right we had to be celebrating a wedding when her daughter had hanged herself on that very day! What a family! Instead of burying her own daughter, she rushed over just to ruin our wedding—though, truth be told, we quickly kicked her out. Burying one’s child is a terrible tragedy, but that was *her* tragedy, not ours. Our family certainly didn't push her into the rope. And while you’re not supposed to speak ill of the dead, she really was a completely useless human being.

Other Trash Stories

It happened back during my student days.

I was working as an assistant, accompanying a lawyer to court hearings.

The case involved a married couple going through a divorce.

The husband had built a major business and was very well-off.

He was a calm man—clearly a caring one, too. The couple had three children, aged 12, 7, and 3. The husband had read his wife’s correspondence with her lover; he realized he had been cheated on and that the youngest child was not his. A divorce petition followed shortly thereafter.

The husband was willing to pay child support for two of the children, and he pleaded with his wife—doing everything in his power—to keep the proceedings free of scandal.

The wife, however, couldn't help herself. Declaring, «Since you have the audacity to doubt me, we’ll have DNA tests done on *all* the children—just so you can be shamed,» she filed a formal motion for forensic testing.

At the final hearing, the judge stared wide-eyed at the DNA test results, while the now-somewhat-crestfallen wife uttered a memorable line: «Well, I *assumed* the other two were definitely his… so where on earth am I supposed to find *their* fathers now?»

1. Peace of Mind. No one is trying to drive me crazy, and there’s no need to constantly «sort out our relationship.» I don't have to wonder if my partner is still faithful to me—or where she actually went when she said she was just visiting a girlfriend.

2. No Compromises. I live how I want, where I want, and do what I want. I don't have to constantly adjust to another person or try to find a middle ground between «I want to sleep in» and «go dig up the mother-in-law's garden.»

3. My Own Living Space. I don't have to live in daily fear that if my woman suddenly decides to file for divorce tomorrow, I'll be left without a roof over my head—standing outside with nothing but a toothbrush.

4. Sexual Freedom. I’m not terrified of waking up one day next to a 40-year-old woman with cellulite, only to realize that I stopped wanting to perform my «marital duties» toward her ages ago. I don't have to force myself to fulfill those duties, nor do I have to restrict myself from being with other women. If I want to, I sleep with someone; if I want to, I abstain—especially when it comes to those who are «slightly over 30.»

5. No Crushing Mortgage Debt. Buying a studio apartment or a small country cottage for myself is much faster—and can often be done with cash—compared to taking out a mortgage on a three-room apartment for a whole family, or a massive country estate, and then slaving away at two jobs for 20 years just to pay for it.

6. Plenty of Money. After every paycheck, I still have a lot of surplus cash left over, simply because a single man doesn't actually need very much to get by. I can save it, invest it, or buy myself almost anything my heart desires. *For myself*, specifically—rather than wearing the same pair of pants for ten years while working two jobs, all for *her* sake.

7. Just One Job. Yes, yes—for a bachelor, one job is plenty; there’s no need to get by on four hours of sleep a night, only to drop dead at fifty after working two jobs simultaneously just to «feed the pig.» Or a family… which is the correct way to put it?

8. No children. No crying, no clutter, and no shit in the house. Or, alternatively, no child support payments—which effectively replace all that—draining your income for nearly two decades of your life. Though, in fairness, it’s worth noting that nowadays you don’t really get a choice: 80% of marriages end in divorce, and that automatically means child support.

9. Comfortable sleep. Sleeping alone is a hundred times more comfortable than sleeping with someone else. No one tosses and turns, gets in your way, snores, nudges you, or hogs the covers; nor does anyone wake you up with noise in the morning by getting up earlier than you do. As a result, you get a much better night's sleep.

10. Impossible to turn into a fat slob. You can buy just enough food for yourself to last until the next day—and generally keep yourself in shape. Women, on the other hand, have a habit of stuffing the fridge to the brim with all sorts of crap, getting fat themselves, and simultaneously fattening up their husbands so they won't run off with another woman or catch anyone else's eye.

11. Impeccable order. After all, it is the woman herself who creates the trash and the mess. Well, and the children, too. But if neither she nor they are around, there’s no one left to make a mess. And cleaning up the minor clutter you create yourself takes no more than 15 minutes.

12. Higher earnings. I can easily move around the country—or even the world—in search of better-paying work. I simply pack a suitcase and head off to a new location. With a family, this is impossible: she has her «mom» to consider, the child has a «preschool» they waited two years to get into, and so on. As life has repeatedly shown, a man who attempts to combine having a family with earning a high income through rotational or remote work arrangements ends up getting nothing but a pair of cuckold's horns.

13. Health. Peace of mind, sound sleep, no need to skimp on your own nutrition, no need to drink heavily to cope with stress in your personal life, and so on—all of these factors have an exclusively beneficial effect on your physical health, and, as a direct consequence, on your overall level of happiness in life. Married men, on the other hand, often don't even live long enough to reach retirement age, frequently suffering heart attacks as early as 45.

14. Hobbies. You have an abundance of time for hobbies and personal interests—time that, for married men, gets consumed by working two jobs, handling household chores, fulfilling obligations to their wives, and so on and so forth. In my view, life is truly measured by the opportunity to pursue what genuinely interests you, rather than merely doing what you «have to» do.

15. Financial Freedom. Over the long term, an unmarried man has the potential to achieve financial freedom—that is, to stop going to work entirely, long before reaching the official retirement age. First, because a single man simply doesn't need a vast amount of money; and second, because he can generate income from investments made during his youth—investments that, had he been married, might otherwise have been squandered on women—or by renting out an apartment that a wife could have potentially claimed in a divorce settlement.

Let’s be honest—standard emojis are a bit… boring. They look different on every phone, they’re static, and they just don’t have that classic energy we love here at MadWay.

We decided it was time to stop being «standard» and start being legendary. Whether you’re feeling like a dancing fool, a literal «facepalm,» or you just want to send some «yahoo» energy into the world, we’ve got the perfect GIF for the job.

How to Use:

You don’t need to be a wizard to use them. While you're writing your masterpiece, just highlight any text and click the  icon in the toolbar. Pick your favorite animation, and boom—instant personality.

Unfortunately we had to reduce the size of uploaded images to 100kb, due to lack of hosting space. Maybe it will change in the future