Old relationships suck.
My ex boyfriends don't know the rules, apparently.
There is an unspoken rule. I date you.
You fuck me over.
We break up.
You disappear off of the face of the earth, or go die or something.
I didn't think it was a difficult concept.
So if you are an ex of mine, and have somehow progressed from books with lots of pictures to reading my blog, here's my advice.
1. Stop reading my blog. It's not good for either of us. Eventually, I am going to make a shitty comment about you, most likely regarding the size of your penis, less than stellar ability in the bedroom, or the fact that you have the IQ that rivals only that of Corky on Life Goes On, and honestly I don't want to hear you bitch and moan about it.
2. Stop hanging out with our mutual friends. They like me more. I promise. Yes. Even your best friend. He told me himself.
3. Stop calling me. I'm quickly running out of good excuses to not talk to you and eventually I'm going to have to settle with the truth. The truth being that I'd rather cram steel wool up my twat and run around the block than have to talk to you. If you had something to say you should've said it while we were together.
4. If you see me, keep walking. I can do without that awkward "How are you doing" conversation. I know you don't care, which is a good thing because I don't care either.
5. If for some reason we are within 2 feet of each other, which I will try like hell to avoid, don't even think of touching me. Don't touch my hips, my wrists, anything. Not even a hug, and god forbid you raise a hand to me in anger. You will be killed. Don't touch me. Not even a high five. I will take it as a physical threat, and my boyfriend will proceed to hit you so hard you'll be smiling out of your ass.
6. You can't fix things. Please don't try, you will only embarrass yourself and make me look like more of a bitch.
7. You will not get your black t-shirt/bottle of rum/stuffed bear you can't sleep without back. If it was so important you shouldn't have left it at my apartment.
8. Finally. Just go away. It would make life way easier for all parties involved. You won't look like an ass, and I can have fun without worrying about running in to your sorry behind.
13 comments:
I disagree with one thing - if you have something of his at your house, ,GET RID OF IT!!! Give it back to him, burn it, whatever, but don't keep it. It is a reminder and that is sick fucking torture. If you are really over him, why do you want any reminders of him in your posession?
I can't give it back to him.
I gave it away.
To people he hates.
I'm a dick.
Well, it's like the old story goes: If you love something, let him go; if he comes back after a romp with another girl, shoot him.
I really have no idea what the deal is, so I have no opinion.
So I have nothing to say, really.
But I had to comment to say that.
Oh, internet.
Hmmm, I'd better not piss of Claire. It might lead to my testicles becoming unjoined from my body.
If I broke up with Clare, I'd sit in a dark corner playing Jagged Edge's "Walked outta heaven" on repeat.
As a matter of fact, I'm gonna listen to it now...for no apparent reason.
I would break up with Clare for goodbye sex.
:O
I WANT MY PANTS BACK!
Strange post for a fat woman like you. Looking at your pics below I don´t believe you´ve ever had a boyfriend.
If there really was one he´d never contact you again.
cleo313@freenet.de
See, sweetie. That's the thing.
I'm not fat anymore.
You, however, are still stupid.
I strongly reccomend you find something better to do with your time, such as playing in traffic or killing yourself.
You know, something that benefits human kind.
Oh the things that I miss when I don't have my computer all summer. Dear anonymous, if you are still stupid enough to be reading this blog, I just want you to know that behind said wonderful author, who would still be hotter than most of the population if she weighed five million times what she does, is a heterolifemate with a different approach to comments like yours. She says witty things back. I'm more likely to wait until you don't expect it, and then make you wish you were never born. Quietly. With no witnesses. I'm even willing to battle the lesbians in jail on the off chance somebody caught me. Which is unlikely. Just so you know.
Aw, someone from Germany likes you.
I knew those Hitler jokes would come in handy.
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