A couple of these might sound like something I could have done (if you’re a bunch of suspicious narrow-minded creeps, which–if you’re reading my shit–must be true) but I didn’t. No, for realsies!

1. I DID NOT suck all the pimentos out of the olives. And spit the olives back in the jar. And hide the jar in the back of the fridge. Clearly, my house is haunted by a poltergeist who digs pimento. That could so happen. There’s probably already a shitty movie on Netflix about it. Pimento-Sucking Poltergeists Part Two: The Return to AJ’s Fridge. OooOOoo. No?

2. I DID NOT open my knees juuuuust enough so that my thigh innocently snuggled-up against the thigh of a soul-crushingly hot man on the subway. It was an accident! I was just … gettin’ breezy. Like I always do when I find myself in the vicinity of a man built like Conan the Barbarian. Besides, my poor wee hoohah was suffocating and frankly, a thong is like a garrote some days, and we simply cannot allow coochie asphyxiation on the subway, can we? That sounds like it’s gotta be written in the TTC safety books someplace.  

<when this guy’s on the subway, everyone’s knees fall open a little>

3. I DID NOT throw out (instead of washing) a $20 Starbucks travel mug because it had rolled under the car seat and grown greenish-black film inside. That would be environmentally backwards, considering I bought that mug to save all those paper cups from the …wait, aren’t those recyclable? Doesn’t a plastic travel mug made in a factory in China then shipped overseas make a bigger carbon footprint than my keeping the paper cups flowing, promoting reforestation and creating jobs in recycling plants? You’re WELCOME, green activists!!

4. I DID NOT jokingly (yet sultrily) proposition a well-hung police horse. In front of a cop. I was actually propositioning (sultrily) the cop, but when he gave me the stink-eye, I pretended I was just talkin’ to the horse. Smooth, right? Is bestiality really a crime, cuz I’m totally fighting this ticket …. sultrily (my new word–I’ve decided you love it, just roll with it).

5. I DID NOT drive around for a week with a garden gnome buckled into the passenger seat of my car. OK, I did. Hey, buckled-in. Safety before sanity in “safe, sane and consenting” … though I will admit, the gnome did not consent. But before you cry “GNOME-RAPIST!” let me assure you: there was very little fondling involved (note: there may have been incidental rubbing when I unbuckled him, but after that I put all my clothes back on).

(editor’s note: AJ Aalto does not use dissociative language like “make it dead” and “cause him to become anal probed” unless she’s under the influence of severe environmental guilt, mystical pimentos or having her muff murdered by a black lace thong.)