Let me guess.

You were just drinking.

Gravity betrayed you.

Clothes fled the scene.

And somehow—through no fault of your own—you tripped, fell naked, and landed directly on another human being.

Repeatedly.

With enthusiasm.

Possibly rhythm.

An accident.

A tragic, slippery, alcohol-fueled misunderstanding. 🍷😇

Listen… I’ve worked in healthcare long enough to know how accidents actually work.

They involve ice, ladders, shower curtains, and sometimes a rogue throw rug.

They do not usually involve:

Undressing with intent Strategic positioning Consent forms signed with moans

There is no ICD-10 code for “Oops, I accidentally cheated.”

Cheating isn’t an accident.

It’s a series of decisions wearing a Halloween costume labeled “Whoops.”

You didn’t trip.

You didn’t fall.

You didn’t black out and wake up mid-thrust like a confused raccoon.

You chose the bar.

You chose the conversation.

You chose the closeness.

You chose the moment where you could’ve stopped—and didn’t.

Alcohol doesn’t make you cheat.

It just removes the duct tape from your conscience and lets the truth talk.

And here’s the real kicker…

If you have to call it an accident, it’s because calling it the truth would cost you something:

Trust.

Respect.

The relationship.

The version of yourself you pretend to be.

So no, sweetheart—

You didn’t fall on anyone.

You walked there.

Shoes off.

Eyes open.

Fully committed.

But hey…

Nice try. 😏

—

Saint Dirty Face™

Stay Dirty. Stay Honest.™