The best way to clear your conscience before the weekend is to admit what you did via our anonymous Sick Chirpse confessions box (also located under this post) – every week we’ll be posting the juicy ones.
Here are the best from this week:
I have been hopelessly in love with a girl since we first met at school. We went to school 10/11 years ago and I see her on and off nowadays. We dated very briefly at the age of like 14 when it counts for nothing anyway and nothing interesting happened. But she has recently admitted she “likes me” but one of her best mates is some girl I slept with and pied off (on 3 separate occasions). She is continuously chatting crap about me and what I did to her. If she wasn’t so boring I might not have mugged her off but she is fit so swings and roundabouts. But here I am still hoping that at some point I actually get a chance with this one girl who I’ve loved since I was 15. What a state.
So recently my missus of 2 years broke up with me the day after we landed from a holiday (classy right!) And being the typical stupid man cliché I’ve not spoken to anyone about it and just got on with life. One night however I was feeling quite low and came onto the confessions page and trawled through for an hour or so. Turns out I could have it a lot worse going by some of the dodgy stuff your fans confess too.
Went out last night and got hammered. I get pretty horny when I’m hungover for whatever reason so today at work I decided to bash the bishop in the toilets using the Honey G nude photoshoot as my ammunition. I’m still a bit confused as to whether I enjoyed it.
Fancied a girl for years, eventually she was single and we met for a drink. Went on to a house party and I am not one to normally partake in Columbian extra curricular activity but obvioulsy got stuck in to impress her. Ended up getting with her and left to head back to mine round the corner. Halfway down the road and my guts dropped, managed to have time to pretend I was a gentleman and bundled her in a cab and opened my bowels under a tree in a nearby park. She had a new bf 1 week later….. just say no, kids.
I’ve hated my job for the last couple of years and last week I was sitting at Waterloo station, eating my bagel like I do ever lunch and stared at the trains, fantasising about running away to Cornwall as I always do. Anyway, for some reason on this day I actually followed through and did it. I got on the train and started my journey and now I’m in Cornwall. I don’t have any money and am staying with a friend and I have had about a million missed calls from my boss and colleagues and I have no idea what my plan is. But do you know what? I feel excited for the first time in years.
I recently moved back into my parents’s house after 5 years of living away. A primary reason for this the was while I lived away, I was drinking heavily. Now I’m home, I lie to my parents about meeting friends at the pub because I’m actually going there alone. I just want to be out the house and drunk.
Ever since the election I’ve found myself frequently rubbing one out with Jeremy Corbyn in mind. So much so that now when I type ‘J’ into the Facebook search box, Mr Corbyn is the first name to appear rather than my ex-boyfriend!! Result!
I genuinely feel bad whenever I walk past homeless people, but I never carry change with me. Does anyone carry change anymore? I hope one day the government gives out free contactless payment devices for homeless people.
When I get to a certain level of drunk, I lose any ability to remember what people look like the next day. Im a pretty high functioning alcoholic and can remember everything that happens on a night out, I just can’t recall faces at all. Sometimes I can remember hair colour… sometimes.So on one night stands where i’ve ducked out early, or if i get a girls number etc, its a nightmare. I cant remember if they’re hot or a gargoyle, if I go to meet them its always a gamble.
If we meet up i have to look to find the person who i think i would have gone for, or just stare intently at people to work out if they think they’re meeting me. Twice now I’ve organised dates, turned up, realised I couldn’t work out who it was in the bar I was meeting and turned around and left. They get pretty baffled. I started writing descriptions down but when I’m cut. It doesnt help.
I’ve just sat and eaten a full double layered box of dairylea triangles at half ten at night. I’m 30 years old.
A couple of years ago when I was travelling across country, I drove through the region my ex lived in. I was enduring a dry spell at the time and began fantasising about my ex to the point where I had to get myself off. As dangerous as it was, I gotta confess getting a massive kick out of orgasming at 70mph.
Side confession: I’ve done this again twice since, motorways are just too boring now
Well done guys and gals – you’ve done us proud. Well, maybe not proud. But thanks for submitting and if your confession didn’t feature, don’t sweat it – just submit a better one next time.
Get involved and submit your confession(s) directly below this post – see you next week.