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I, Anonymous is the column where YOU write your most secret confessions and insane rants—anonymously! Sure, it's a great way to get stuff off your chest, but it's also a way for you to become FAMOUS—anonymously.

The best rants or confessions are chosen to be featured in the print edition of the Mercury (read weekly by hundreds of thousands), and if it's especially interesting/crazy/well-written it's picked for inclusion in the I, Anonymous podcast (a monthly comedy show hosted by Portland's funniest person, Caitlin Weierhauser—join us on JUNE 13 for our next show) that has a potential listenership of MILLIONS! So submit your great anonymous story here!

Want to know what kind of I, Anonymous submissions are chosen for print and our podcast? Here's a classic submission from the I, Anonymous vault.

Sorry for the Shitty Date

I left you at the movies in the middle of our very first date and I thought you should know why: I shit my pants.

I don't know what I ate that did such damage to my digestive system, but I wasn't going to let it keep me from spending time with you. I was convinced it was just gas, and held it in as long as I could. When you got up to use the restroom, I wasted no time venting the pressure cooker inside my bowels. That's when I realized, to my horror, that what I mistook for simple gas was instead a foul jet of the blackest fecal matter. It smelled like hot roadkill and sulfur, and was sticking to the inside of my pants.

I panicked. Grabbing my sweater I tied it around my waist, and walked briskly toward the exit, just as you were coming back in. I mumbled something about having to use the restroom, knowing full well I was lying to you.

By the time I made it back to my place you had texted 10 times; initially with cute faux concern, followed by sincere worry, and finally disappointment. I had no idea how to respond—so I did what I do best: absolutely nothing. Is it too late to say sorry?—Anonymous

Got a good secret/rant/humiliating confession? Submit yours here!