**P22. On the topic of "a shamed dude always finds a way to wipe"**

Back in 6th grade, during a goddamn English class, my gut decided to wage war on me, and I felt the pressure hit like a freight train. I bolted to the school bathroom faster than a cat on a hot tin roof. After unloading the beast, I realized—shit, no toilet paper. Not a scrap in sight. Did I panic? Nah. I just shrugged, pulled up my pants, and strutted back to class like nothing happened, ready to butcher some foreign tongue.

Then, my desk neighbor wrinkles her nose and blurts out, “Why the hell does it stink like crap in here?” I shot her a straight face and lied through my teeth, “I didn’t even go to the bathroom, chill.” After class, I ditched the scene and escaped to blast some noobs in Counter-Strike 1.6. Screw grammar, I was hooked on fragging.

That escape bug bit me hard. From then on, instead of slogging through boring lessons, I’d dive into the world of CS:GO, mastering headshots over homework.

P.S. Back then, I hadn’t yet earned the title of “shamed dude”... but I was well on my way.
#schoolfails #bathroomdrama #gamingoverstudying #cringemoments

D21. Whenever I’ve gotta handle the big business, I clean up in the sink afterward—it's at just the right height for me, pure convenience. I turn my back, keep it classy, and take care of things with finesse.

So, there I am one day, rinsing off as usual... when my dearest husband barges into the bathroom. He just stares, silent, with a face that screams he’s about to drop a damn TED Talk on me.

He stands there for a good ten seconds, then, with the most stone-cold serious expression, lays into me:
- So, when I wanna take a leak in the sink, it’s all ‘ew, honey, that’s gross and unsanitary.’ But when you’re parking your ASS in there, that’s somehow fine?! What the hell is our hygiene policy around here?!
#bathroomdrama #hygienehypocrisy #marriedlife #wtf