From the time we were young we’ve been told repeatedly of certain things. Like getting your baby cheeks pinched to S&M levels were a mandatory custom procedure every time you greeted your grandparents. Or matter of fact any relative that’s older than you. Stuff like being gullible isn’t exactly taught, but just a given for me.

Therefore here I am to relief all fellow trickees of bad myths:

1. My father used to tell me all variations of stories where you wake up at 2-3am and stand in front of a bathroom mirror with the lights off. You have to peel an orange in circular motion without ever breaking the skin from beginning to end and never once looking at it.
The perk of doing something so ridiculous is that you may witness the apparition of an old hag who will either show you your future spouse or you in 50 years.

peeled orange
My solution is simple. This is how I peel an orange.

Take it or leave it, I actually did try.

False? I’m not quite qualified to say.. but speaking of future spouses…
2. All my friends tell me that I am going to abuse my future husband one way or another because I can’t cook. And if he happens to be invalid too we’re both screwed and I’d probably skewer him. They worry.

Once again, let my validate my strength to everyone.

did they really have to specify it was for children?
did they really have to specify it was for children?

The other day my sister and her boyfriend brought me to bowling. I hated whoever suggested that dumb idea me.

– Broke a nail with the lightest ball in the house and lost three times. What a hipster. Obviously I let them win. Yes yes, definitely that malicious killer that seduces their prey before I murder them. My days of being stronger than all the boys are long gone.
Where did they get that aggressive impression of me? Well…

3. I’ve made a rabbit scream, lost a turtle in my backyard, picked a puppy up by it’s tail, had a baby dalmatian drag me on my bike with his leash, killed all 15 of my goldfish in the first month…Diagnosed : Animal Abuser. 

Let me just begin with, there once was girl, who was not so strong (as you can see above), but was also so benevolent that she decided to single-handedly bring her 15 pet rabbits out to her backyard. Then she realized they do not coincide to munch grass in the same direction so she lifted their single large cage, and well, heard a scream. And there her rabbit laid with it’s rear and top end separated by the metal bar. The ending is a happy one – he survived.
The turtle? The same little girl got bored of teasing her baby turtle atop a water bottle while it flapped helplessly with its four pudgy appendages and decided to put it down for a nap. She flipped him over and sprinkled him in pieces of grass.  Said goodnight for the last time and forgot until her mother mentioned at dinner. Oops. Let’s just say the turtle did survive and wasn’t eaten by a stray cat.
The puppy? Well, blame its submissive behavior. Who tolerates it when someone picks them up by their tail? Stupid.
As for my free ride; The dalmatian just happened to be attached to my bike, my friend happened to catch a plastic bag on her ankle, things just happened so that my pet chased after her, and I just so very happened to be enjoying the ride.
Lastly, all goldfishes hate me. The 20 year old one my friend has is nonexistence. Bullshit.

Animal abuse?  Absolutely false.

Everyday I come home to an abusive relationship. There is no longer any beloved greeting as there had been when things just begun. In the morning there is no longer sweet nothings in my ear but more interest in my garbage can. Instead of encouraging me to work for my education, he delays and distracts me so that even if he were a valid excuse I’d sound like an ass for saying so the next day. My every attempt of affection is brushed aside until he comes around on his own schedule, and being attached as I am, I welcome with open arms. Even so each day he looks at me with that face of condescension, and without a word I understand him exactly.

actions speaks more than words clearly.
actions speaks more than words clearly.

But the thing is, he is not a husky. They at least work daily to impress you. Even after the honeymoon phase.

Though as all abusive relationships go, I cannot let go of his quirky love bites I initially fell in love with, which turns more and more towards animalistic intents of frustration.

As I’ve long known, I am not good enough.

Instead everyday I am relegated to serenade this whenever he shows a slight bit more of affection with other people.

Who is this handsome lad you say?

my big lump of fat loving.
my big lump of fat loving.                                                                                                    

No sir, the myth is false. I am most definitely the one abused.