I, Anonymous 

I Pissed On Your Laundry

Do you remember me? I sure hope not! I was in the downtown laundromat when you, an obvious asshole, sauntered in with your too-hot-to-say-excuse-me girlfriend, your midget pal/ toady, and a load of wet laundry to dry. Myself and some other poor guy were the only other customers in there, and you tried to pick fights with both of us. When neither of us took the bait, you and your friends started your dryer and swaggered outside.

While you were out there, I realized I was in a position to return a little bit of what you dished out. 30 seconds later I was in the bathroom, emptying my bladder into a discarded soda can. After a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, I opened your dryer and carefully poured every last drop of my urine over your T-shirts, underwear, and football jerseys. I shut the door, plugged in an extra quarter (my treat!) and restarted your machine. I then packed my clothing and high-tailed it out of there.

I don't know which would be better--if you never figured it out, or if you eventually smelled the truth. What goes around sometimes needs a little help coming around, and assholes like you don't get what's due nearly enough. Sure, you could probably kick my ass, but you never got the chance. I got away clean. You're the one wearing pissy clothes, motherfucker.--Anonymous

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To submit your own rant, rave or confession, email anonymous@portlandmercury.com

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