Tough Titties

They say that when it rains it pours. Well, when shit happens, it pours shit. Wave after wave of faeces falling from the sky, as if the man upstairs is sitting on the thunderbox suffering from a bout of food poisoning. And when the torrent of shit finally ends, you find yourself wading around in a pile of shit or worse - you have already drowned in it. What an indignity. To die in a pile of shit.

The way you respond to shit is indicative of your character or disposition.  You can whine. You can approach the nearest person and polish your knuckles. You can huddle in the corner of an unlit room, clutching your knees, as if they were the only things that kept you alive and breathing, drowning in your own tears, wallowing in self-pity. You can be pathetic. Or not.

Sometimes when shit happens, all you can say is: "tough titties," and move on.

Your computer crashes and you lose your 10,000 word dissertation. Tough titties.

You fail again and again to call a flirt when, in retrospect, it was so obvious. Tough titties.

You get turned down at the final round interview for an internship. Tough titties.

Your crush finds a boyfriend. Tough titties.

Your acne breaks out again just when you felt ready to date after years of hiatus. Tough titties.

Your parents don't love each other anymore. Tough titties.

Life is shit sometimes. Throw some anti-diharreal Imodium in the sky, have a cry, but move on. Because you know what? Tough motherfucking titties.