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Feeling ambivalent about the blessing to read but the curse of reading this: When I was like 12 I bought one of those teen, pre teen ish magazines that were just getting popular, but this was before they got half way decent, this was like a small magazine in a non english speaking country whose cover story was an obviously fake four page personal interview with justin bieber. and they had a bunch of diet recipes and fashion tips. but the Real TeaTM the reason people bought it was for the anonymous write in stories and questions. you know stuff like "I got my period today in school and it fucking sucked ass" or like "am I gay if x?" and "my boyfriend cheated how do i get the best revenge?", but like i read this One story yall, and I havent bought a magazine since. So this girl, shes like 15, she goes on this camping trip with her school and they stay in cabins and bunk beds, with 6 students per room and a teacher down the hall. So this girl and her friends decide to have a little fun one night, so they share a bottle of vodka and smoke a pack of cigarettes out the window, bunch of fun and what not, and they keep it down to not tip off the teacher and then they go to bed, simple as that. But this girl right she drunk as a stinky ass skunk and wakes up a bit later, still the middle of the night and she has to take a shit. But she is so fucking hammered, and if she starts down the hallway at fuck O'clock at night peeping through doors there's about a 100 percent chance shes gonna wake the teacher and get fucked. So her drunk ass dumbass fuck ass self decides to take a MotHerfUckiNng LOAD in the paper waste basket in their room! Gobsmacked I know, me too. So next morning all these girls wake up, some of them hungover some of them still drunk, and someone goes "the fuck is that rrrank ass smell" and our main girl here remembers the capital sin she committed in the dead of night and just fucking dies. And these girls divided right, cause some of them simply dont care wanna sleep more, but one of them is opening windows and sniffing around like "it smells like fucking Shit in here." And she gets determined to find out what the fuck, and she gets desperate, going through peoples luggage like is it rotten lunch or what. And then she comes across the paper waste basket. And she fucking SCREAMS yall and then world war three breaks out like "theres a HUMAN SHIT in the waste basket!" "Who THE FUCK SHAT in This Room while WE slept?!" And the screaming obviously attracts the teacher who comes in in pjs like "what in the ever loving cabin trip is happening with yallses at the booty crack of dawn?" And they're like "someone literally SHAT in the waste basket!" And the teacher is NOT okay with this. Like this is Not acceptable behaviour. Nope no m-m. She decides they're going to figure out who committed this absolute atrocity. And she figures, who ever did this clearly didn't wipe, so who ever got shit in their underwear must've been The One. So everyone shows their underwear and our girl is the only one with a brown line. The end. Mortified, traumatised, horrified. And that was the first and last time I bought a magazine. And girl, if you out there, my heart goes out to you and I hope you've recovered better from this than I have. Tl;dr: I only ever bought one magazine in my life cause the first one contained a story about a girl who shat in the trash on a school trip and I never got over it. #true story Feeling ambivalent about the blessing to read but the curse of reading this
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