The following is a series of confessional apologies to the former assholes I dated. Consider this my last ounce of remorse.

1. I destroyed your bed.

Apparently I was blacked out wasted when I accidentally peed your bed sophomore year. And I obviously I wasn’t thinking clearly when I grabbed an Exacto-knife on your bed stand and slashed at your water bed for half an hour to make it look like it sprung a leak. I ruined your sheets, and your bed, and I’m sorry.

2. I made you break your leg.

My sorority sisters had just had a talk with us pledges about being classy Tri-Deltas. It was in my best interest that night to not let them see me coming down the stairs with you after hooking up in your room at the naughty school girls and sketchy professors mixer. Therefore, when I told you to please wait in your room while I walked downstairs, and for you to come down later, you should have listened. Instead, I casually joked that you should just jump out the window. I guess you took it too literally, did so, and then broke your right leg. I’m sorry, but how come you didn’t let me at least sign the cast?

3. I told everyone you had a small penis and you were a virgin.

Okay, your penis was probably the smallest one I had ever seen, but that really didn’t give me the right to tell my entire sorority and make you the laughing stock of everyone for the rest of the year. I tried to save your reputation by telling everyone you were a virgin and didn’t know what you were doing, but seriously, I couldn’t let other girls hook up with you and be so utterly disappointed.

4. I peed in your Armani cologne so that you would spray it on yourself everyday.

I’m sorry, but after finding out that you cheated on me all summer and had the nerve to then come to my huge end-of-summer blow-out party in the Hamptons, something had to be done. It wasn’t a planned thing, just the result of an ongoing reminder in my head that kept telling me I needed to get you back. So early in September we were partying at your house and I peed in your cologne. The color matched perfectly—an amber tinted urine hue. I’m sure you smelled great for your new girlfriend! My pheromones kick ass.

5. I stole your favorite sweatshirt and burned it in my post-hookup compost pile.

I couldn’t resist it. You are so damn anal-retentive and your closet was always so organized that I needed to steal something and destroy it forever. It was dark blue and said something about a camp in white, bold lettering. It went up in flames about a year ago. I might have the ashes if you want them...

6. I poked holes in your condoms.

Seriously, you must have like three illegitimate children running around by now because of me. I poked holes in your condoms because you were an arrogant asshole who needed to be put in his place. I’m a ruthless, evil bitch babe, don’t mess with me next time.

7. I accidentally ran over your new lacrosse stick.

This definitely was a cruel revenge tactic. I mean, you were the star of the team and mommy and daddy just got you the best, new lacrosse stick. I felt it was only necessary to run it over like eight times so the shaft was fucked up, kind of like your penis, but that’s a different story.

8. I lied that I was pregnant and used the abortion money you sent me to throw a huge party.

This probably goes down in history as one of my most malicious and vindictive stunts, but you deserved it. It was the beginning of my senior year and I wanted to throw a party on your tab, and besides, you had always been one of my hate-fucks from home. So thanks, I appreciate the $500, the ice-luge was a big hit and we even had some cash left over for the male stripper on my friend's 21st birthday.

9. It was me who put the used condoms in your interview folder for that big investment banking job that you (*tear) didn’t get.

I thought those investment bankers had a sense of humor? I guess not. I feel compelled to confess that it was I who put the three used condoms in your interview folder smeared across your resume right before your 8am interview. Aw, and even after the humiliation you thought the condoms were ours. That’s cute, too bad they were from amazing sex sessions with your best friend.

10. The sausage in that omelet I made you one morning was my Chihuahua’s shit.

I should go to hell for that one, but you always told me you wanted to "spice things up." So, when I invited you over for a Sunday morning omelet knowing full-well that you had called me a slut the night before at the bar, I was making you a really special omelet. I scooped up the little dog’s shit and threw it into the mix of eggs, butter, peppers, tomatoes, and onions. You ate it happily—mmmm, yum! Asshole!

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