My boyfriend and I had been dating for almost six months and it had been going great until one day when I started to feel a little itchy “down there.” I made an appointment with my GP. I was so nervous, terrified it was a serious STD or something.

The doctor was very reassuring. She examined me and did a few tests. It turned out it was just thrush. As she could see I was still a little apprehensive, she offered to take some samples to send away for an STD test just for my peace of mind, which I agreed to. Better safe than sorry.

Thrilled that it wasn’t something serious like I feared, I took out my phone to give my boyfriend the good news. That’s when I found he had sent me a text. It read: 

“I know you cheated on me. You obviously have gonorrhoea and I know you didn’t get it from me. I obviously can’t trust you. We’re over. Don’t bother calling. I don’t want to talk to you ever again, you cheating whore.”

Stunned, I tried phoning him but he didn’t answer, so I texted him, frantically explaining it wasn’t an STD. I even sent him pictures of my prescription which clearly stated the medication was for thrush. I didn’t get a response. 

I was utterly devastated. We hadn’t been dating long, but we had been happy, or so I thought. However, I soon learned why he was acting so strangely.

A few weeks after we broke up, I received a call from a woman who said she was his girlfriend. How she got my number I don’t know, but she was furious, claiming that I had knowingly given my ex gonorrhoea, which he had then given to her. I explained that I did not have an STD.

When she didn’t believe me, I sent her the photos of my prescription which I had sent to my ex, the all-clear results from my STD tests, and screenshots of the break-up texts.

This led to several revelations. First, it seemed my ex and this woman had been dating for weeks before he broke up with me. He lied and told her we had broken up well before we actually did. When they found out they had an STD, he immediately blamed me and told her I gave it to him before we broke up, which I had just proven was a lie.

It also turns out that he reacted the way he did because he had been trying to find a guilt-free way to break up with me so he could be with this other woman, and decided my condition was the perfect way to do it.

Unsurprisingly, it became clear my ex was a serial cheater who had not only been dating us at the same time but other women, as well, which is probably how he caught an STD in the first place.

I never heard from the woman again, but I did hear through some mutual acquaintances I still had with my ex that the woman who called me immediately dumped him, and made a public post on Facebook outing him for being both a cheater and for having an STD. Sadly, I didn’t see the post, but I’m told it caused quite a stir.

It just goes to show that sometimes, people get their comeuppance sooner than they think.

Some years ago, when I was in seventh grade — ages 13 to 14 — we had physics and chemistry as a combined course. One day, we were all sitting in the lab while the teacher was talking. Suddenly, we all heard a “woosh” and people screaming. One of the boys was apparently bored and had built a small bonfire of matches, doused it with turpentine, and set fire to it! The flames were huge but thankfully died out quickly with a little help from the fire extinguisher. 

Everyone was thankfully okay, but one girl got some of her long hair burnt off, and her T-shirt had no back anymore. It was the only time my class got sent home early.

The girl had to get a bob haircut to save her hair. The boy’s parents had to pay for the haircut and a new T-shirt. The boy had to sit at the teacher’s desk every time we had physics/chemistry from then on. When asked why he did it, he just stated that he was bored and didn’t know how much damage he would cause. The burn mark from the fire was still on that table when I graduated.

My wife and I are at Six Flags to celebrate her promotion at work. A new ride has recently opened so we decide to check it out. Lines are long — two and a half to three hours in the blazing sun — so we strike up a conversation with the people behind us to pass the time. They’re two college-age dudes. One guy is pretty average size, maybe six feet tall. The other guy is an absolute giant; he says he is 7’3” — over a foot taller than his friend! I’m a pretty big guy — 6’3, 250 pounds — but this guy makes me look like a freakin’ munchkin.

We get talking about the usual stuff: names, jobs, etc. They are both students at a college a few hours away. Turns out Tall Guy loves roller coasters. They drove for four hours to get here to celebrate finishing freshman year, super pumped about trying the new ride we’re in line for. 

Three hours later, we’re at the front of the line. We’re all clamoring with the seatbelts when the operator comes up and asks how tall Tall Guy is. He answers and the ride operator tells him he has to get off. Apparently, you have to be under seven feet tall to ride safely. Tall Guy is completely crushed. This guy drove four hours and waited three hours in the hot sun to be kicked off the ride for being too tall. 

They give him a coupon for a free drink, but d***, we can see how disappointed he is. I feel so bad for him, so my wife and I pay for him to get a “Fast Pass” — you can buy a ticket that basically lets you take an express line on all the rides — for the rest of the day. He really appreciates it but I still feel bad he didn’t get to go on the ride.

My two friends, both women, got married this spring. [Friend #1] has had her dream wedding planned since she was a kid, while [Friend #2] has always said she’d be happy with a courthouse wedding, but went along with [Friend #1]’s plans since she didn’t have a strong opinion one way or another.

They were getting married in [Friend #1]’s hometown, and [Friend #2] travels a lot for work, so [Friend #1] was the one onsite coordinating a lot of things, to the extent that [Friend #2] had only done one quick walkthrough of the reception venue a week before the wedding, while [Friend #1] had been in frequent communication with the manager there and had met her in person several times. It’s also important to note that [Friend #2] has a gender-neutral name.

The day of the wedding, after the ceremony at [Friend #1]’s church, two disasters struck almost simultaneously: [Friend #1]’s dress was stepped on and torn, and the reception hall called to inform them that there was an issue with the seating chart, and they needed them down to resolve it ASAP. Luckily, my friends had scheduled a bit of a break in time between the ceremony and the reception, so [Friend #1] went with her mother, who is a seamstress, to fix her dress, while [Friend #2] headed to the reception to deal with the problem there.

When [Friend #2] showed up at the reception venue, the manager got very confused, and asked her what she was doing there. [Friend #2] was very surprised to get that question, as she was still in her large, white dress, and informed the manager that she was having her wedding reception there that afternoon and needed to speak to her.

The manager immediately began sputtering and saying that there must have been some mistake, that another wedding party had already booked the venue, that [Friend #2] needed to tell her party to move on, and that they simply couldn’t accommodate them without any notice… And [Friend #2] began panicking, thinking that somehow their booking had been canceled and they wouldn’t have a venue for the evening.

It took about five minutes before the manager and [Friend #2] actually began to listen to one another, at which point they realized that the wedding the manager was speaking about was [Friend #2]’s wedding. She had only ever met [Friend #1], heard her refer to her fiancée by a gender-neutral name, and assumed that she was marrying a man. Then, when she saw [Friend #2] show up in a white dress, talking about her wedding reception that night, she thought some crazy bride had shown up to try to bully her way into the venue.

Luckily, [Friend #1] and [Friend #2] had a good sense of humor about it, and like to joke that [Friend #2] almost got everyone kicked out of her own wedding. And in case anyone was wondering, the seating issue was resolved easily, and [Friend #1]’s dress was mended so well, you never would notice the seam.

When we decided to get our first dog, a Samoyed puppy, my partner and I searched for reputable breeders and drove over four hundred miles to get her.

About four years later, the breeder — whom I had become close friends with — informed me that she was having another, final litter from the mother of our other pup.

My partner and I jumped at the chance to own “sisters from another litter,” and after the puppies were born, we drove across the country to see them.

Because we were close personal friends of the breeder, she allowed us the first pick of the litter. 

Our first pup was a confident and laid back missus and we decided to try and find a personality that would fit with hers. We sat down in the group of white fluff clouds and played for a few hours.

When the time came, one puppy stood out about the rest. She was so chilled out and affectionate. She curled into my lap and fell asleep. She wanted cuddles and was generally a sweet little girl. We loved her.

I told the breeder that I wanted the sweet girl and handed over my deposit. As soon as the breeder said, “She’s reserved. All yours,” suddenly the sweet one went wild!

The tiny puppy woke up and started to terrorise her brothers and sisters, rolling around, barking loudly, going crazy! It was like watching a completely different dog! Even the breeder said, “She’s never acted like that before!”

My partner and I couldn’t stop laughing and decided that she was too cheeky to pass up, so we decided to stick with our choice.

That brings us to today… We have the loudest, mischievous, most squirrel-chasing, fluffy girl. She drives my big dog around the bend and her big sister has to tell her off with a loud bark.

But overall, I think we made the right choice.