Disclaimer
Right. Before you get comfortable, read this. Yes, all of it. I spent a whole night writing about a utility cupboard. You can spare two minutes.
This site is for adults. If you are not eighteen, go and look at something with cartoons. If you are eighteen and still here, that is on you.
This Is Not A Public Service
Nothing here is legal advice, medical advice, dating advice, career advice, or a how-to guide for your next terrible decision. I have a journalism degree and a high sex drive. That is not the same as a licence to tell you how to live.
If you copy something you read on this site and it goes wrong, that is between you, the other person, and whoever has to hear about it at brunch.
The Stories
Some of this happened. Some of it happened and then I made it funnier. Some names are gone. Some details are blurred. Some people would rather I had kept my mouth shut. They should have been more interesting, or better in bed, or both.
If you think a post is about you, ask yourself why that is your first thought. Then maybe don’t.
I do not owe anyone a flattering edit. I also do not print surnames for sport. There is a difference between being honest and being thick.
The Sex
It is explicit. Obviously. That is the point of half the site.
Consent matters. I write about nights that were wanted, messy, stupid, hot, regrettable, or all of those at once. If you take one useful thing from these pages, let it be that. Everything else is gossip in nicer lighting.
I am not responsible for your search history, your flatmates reading over your shoulder, or the fact you opened this on the bus.
The Gossip
Afterparties are loud. Toilets are honest. People talk. I listen, then I type.
This is not a newspaper. It is not a court transcript. It is a personal site run by a woman who writes things down in Notes at 4am and refuses to pretend she didn’t.
If you tell me something in a cubicle, there is a decent chance it becomes a sentence later. That is the deal. Whisper quieter.
Other People’s Business
Brands, bars, hotels, clubs and anyone I have ever shared an Uber with are not automatically endorsing me. Mentioning a place does not mean they asked me to. Mentioning a person does not mean they approved the caption.
Do not harass anyone you think you have recognised. That is grim, and it makes the whole night smaller.
My Life, My Site
Opinions are mine. Moods change. I may contradict myself by Thursday. That is called being a person.
Comments, emails and DMs that are nasty for the sake of it will be ignored. If you are going to be rude, at least be funny.
I do not hurt animals. I do occasionally hurt feelings. Only one of those is a policy.
If You Are Still Cross
Close the tab. Go outside. Drink some water. Text someone you actually like.
If you need to get in touch properly, use the contact page, not a paragraph under a post about a cloakroom.
By staying on this site you accept that Chels is going to tell the story. You can leave. The lipstick is staying on.