I'm a saint. Yeah. But I didn't say I would tell my friend about the cozy date I witnessed. In those situations, what usually happens is that you tell them and somehow or another, after all the tears and drama, you end up being the bad guy. A person who'll sneak around like that is a person who will manipulate their way into being above reproach and who will find a way to make it seem like you're some big troublemaker. This has been my experience, anyway. I expect they'll get caught one way or another. Yet, even as I type this, I think of the thousands of exceptions to the rule and my little guilt gland (which is all that really keeps me honest) is secreting "BUT BUT BUT YOU NEED TO TELL YOUR FRIENDDDDDD" enzymes.
And hair schmair, I don't care. It could look like ass but I'll say something nice because the goal here is to make somebody maybe a little bit happier for a couple minutes.
The rest are no-brainers. This is why I'm poor. But happy.
