like i couldn't do it for you LIKE YOUR MISTRESS COULD!!

When I was a little girl, I lived in a house right next to Dyke Stadium (later renamed "Ryan Field" for the sake of lesbians everywhere), where Northwestern University holds its football games. Since we lived so close, I got hella ca$h by holding lemonade/apple cider stands in my front yard, because I paid the co$t to be the bo$$. But on this day, I was chilling on my front steps, enjoying a cherry popsicle (I would rub it all over my mouth to make lipstick), pigtails and clad in Limited Too. And then a couple of drunk college students came wandering from their local tailgating party over to my house. And this guy whipped out his dick and pissed on the tree in my front yard, completely oblivious to my cherry popsicled self. 

It's weird, I just remembered this a couple weeks ago. PTSD?

I wonder if there's a reason why this happened to me. I must have pissed someone off a lot in a past life or something. I can't stop thinking about how retarded I must have been to let it happen. Maybe I did deserve it.