There’s an old cliche about the psychological assumptions that can be made about a woman after examining the contents of her purse.
I once dated a guy for years and true to the end of our relationship, he flat out refused to go through my purse, no matter the situation. He would go through my emails, my Facebook, and my phone, but ironically never my purse.
So without further ado here are, listed in the order I discovered them, the filthy contents of my purse.
One smaller purse. (Yes, I carry a small purse inside a big purse in addition to a wallet)
A champagne cork from the Fourth of July.
Fifty dollars in scattered one dollar bills.
Three kinds of eye shadow.
Sharpie. (A fine tipped one!)
Tea bag tags with fortunes on them.
Cigarette butts. (No cigarettes though)
A camera battery.
A black trash bag.
Three parking tickets.
A tape deck adapter.
A paper iPhone.
Parts of a gluten free cookie.
Yeah that’s margarine.