Teenage son left his phone connected to the living room speaker when he had a bedtime wank. I had to walk past his room loudly challenging fictional burglars, and then say it must have been people outside. Mortifying. Will miss him when he's gone but there will be positives.

Met someone online, in a different country. We ended up in a relationship and he sent me his t-shirt so I could smell him. Revolting. The man needed more soap. Oddly, not the reason we broke up.

Work booked me into an Air BnB for a conference. I assumed the deal was you got the whole house for yourself. That's not always the case as I discovered while having a wank in the hallway.

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I've just returned from a festival with some friends. We geek out at loads of bands you've never heard of. We all agreed though, Chesney Hawkes was the best act all weekend and we won't tell anyone.

I should probably tell my new girlfriend that the flannel she uses to wash her face every time she stays over is actually my arsehole drying flannel after I've given it a proper post-shit wash in the sink, right?

Got my foreskin trapped in my zipper after a wank. Couldn't get it out. Called 111. They said to go to hospital. Half a dozen nurses and doctors took a gawk but couldn't release the zip, so they called in the fire brigade. Overall 12 people in total were amused by my zipped knob.

I married my husband because I was 36, still single and wanted a family. He loves everything about me. He's kind and generous. He's good company. My friends told me he's a great bloke and I'll grow to love him. It's been six years and that hasn't happened yet. I'm dying inside.

Recorded audio of the neighbours shagging loudly, extracted its spectrogram, wrote code that will listen for similar sounds and play Leonard Nimoy's The Ballad Of Bilbo Baggins endlessly if detected. Then left the flat so I have plausible deniability.