Once, when I was little (about 2 or 3 years old), I was out for a walk with my dad and felt the urge to take a dump. There was absolutely nothing nearby—EXCEPT for a traffic police car. Dad hated the police because they’d once fined him for drunk driving. So my dear old dad hoisted me up onto the—wait for it—TRAFFIC POLICE CAR. With a smile on my face, I proceeded to take a dump right on the hood. Just then, a police officer emerged from around the corner of the building where the car was parked. He walked out to find this scene: a small child shitting on the hood of his patrol car, while some guy stood there cackling with laughter. As soon as my dad spotted the cop, he took off running—bolted like hell. HE JUST BAILLED. Later, my mom had to go to the police station to pick me up.

A friend of mine was cheating on her husband with his best friend. The friend got into a car accident and lost a lot of blood. Her husband told her that the friend had tested positive for HIV. She was absolutely terrified and fainted on the spot. For another week afterward, she couldn't bring herself to get tested. Eventually, it turned out the test was negative. It was the husband's revenge. The friend, terrified that he was going to die, had decided to make a confession and beg the husband for forgiveness. Before filing for divorce, the husband decided to mess with his wife's head. Now, due to all the stress and fear, she has suddenly developed a host of health issues. Maybe I’m a terrible friend, but I honestly think my friend's husband came up with the perfect revenge.

My dad found three rubber dildos belonging to my sister and ceremoniously burned them in the backyard. The smell of burning rubber reeked throughout the entire neighborhood, while my sister wept hysterically—after all, she’d blown nearly 15,000 of her own savings on them.

My girlfriend and I decided to move in together. We rented a place and started buying household supplies. And then, all of a sudden, my girlfriend—exclaiming, «Look what I can do!»—sat down right on our brand-new toilet brush! My eyes! I can't bring myself to sleep with her anymore! She’s funny, she’s good around the house, and she’s a genuinely good person… but I simply cannot unsee that image! We haven't had sex for two months now, and I honestly don't know what to do...

My father used to tell a story about how things turned out for a friend of his. The friend decided to play a prank on his young wife—a prank in the style of the 90s, as that was the era they were living in at the time. She came home to find her husband tied up with a gag in his mouth, while a hulking brute in a mask was roaming around the apartment. Without a second thought, she grabbed a heavy cast-iron frying pan and smashed him over the back of the head—so hard that when they finally removed his mask, bloody chunks of brain tissue fell out onto the floor. She was sentenced to eight years in prison; my dad’s friend waited for his wife and visited her regularly. They even conceived a child while she was behind bars. She was granted parole after serving six years. A few years later, she stabbed her husband to death and went back to prison; their child was sent to an orphanage. No one knows what became of her after that—such is the irony of family life.

As a child, I was deeply attached to my stepfather. I loved him even more than I loved my mother. At the slightest sign of trouble, I would immediately run to him. He was the closest person in the world to me. We lived together in perfect harmony for eight years. My mother’s decision to leave him came as a devastating blow to me, and her refusal to let me stay in touch with him felt like a death sentence. The other day, I got into an argument with my mom and told her that she had robbed me of my father. In response, she revealed that she had endured years of misery solely for my sake—and that he had actually been a tyrant and a pervert in the bedroom. She finally left him when he brought another man home and tried to orchestrate a threesome. My poor mom...

My girlfriends have no idea that I secretly vet their boyfriends. Every time a new man enters one of their lives, I send him some of my nude photos (I have a ton of those floating around online). If the guy immediately puts me in my place, I know he’s someone my friend can trust. And if he starts begging for more, I resort to blunt blackmail—at which point he removes himself from my friend's life entirely. So far, only three guys have passed my loyalty test. The most important thing is to conduct the test right at the beginning, before they’ve developed any serious intentions.

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