Saturday, February 11, 2006


IT'S NOT ME, IT'S YOU

We've all been there: you meet some nimrod on a cool summer's eve, you fall madly in lurve with him, or at least, madly in bed with him, you start writing his name in your notebook, "Mrs. Ville Valo", "Lola Valo", "Monsieur et Madame Valo", yaddayaddayadda. And then one day, after months, weeks, or days of his not calling back, or not coming home, or not posting your bail, you get the "We need to talk", or "I need my space", or "It's not you, it's me", or "Look, I paid you the eight bucks, could you please get out of my Vega" speech. We''ve all been dumped. Some of us more than others, and some of us more painfully than others. A girlfriend just told me her fiancee dumped her because they disagreed on whether or not the Virgin Mary was a "real" virgin. He couldn't reconcile himself to the fact that she saw the issue differently, and asked for the ring back. Sugar, I hate to tell ya, but it wasn't about the Virgin Mary: it was because he was over you, and probably wanted to pork Angelina Jolie. So I started thinking about really heinous dumping stories, just in time for Valentine's Day! Here are some of my faves-read 'em and guffaw because at least it didn't happen to you!

"I was convinced that I had just found the love of my life. We had been dating for about two weeks when he asked to borrow my car. I really should have specified that driving my car to Mexico with three of his friends was not cool. I also should have mentioned that taking my credit and ATM cards without my knowledge was impolite at best. (Not that I found out about that until my statements arrived the following month.) Of course, after he was gone for two days, I called the cops to file a missing persons report. It never crossed my mind that he stole the car. It didn't take the cops too long to find him once I discovered he was using my Visa-he bowled right over my ten thousand dollar credit limit in three days. They soon brought him back, along with the remains of my car. Things kind of got bad after that. It turns out he was actually thirty years old (I'm 18) and had an astounding criminal record. The credit card company decided that his use of my card was authorized by me, and imposed full charges. I can't charge a pack of gum at this point. My bank account was bone dry and my part-time job couldn't cover the bills, and I got evicted from my apartment. I had to quit school and take a job at Dairy Queen. I have to take the bus to work everyday since the insurance company declared my car totaled. I saw him one last time, in court. I charged him with everything in the book, but the judge felt there wasn't enough evidence, so he was acquitted. My bankruptcy should be clear in only another six years."

"My boyfriend broke up with me because I love Star Wars 'too much' as he put it. I made him dress up as Princess Leia (in the gold bikini) and I as Luke Skywalker once for a party, and of course cross dressing makes any party a more fun place to be. Someone had a camera and took pictures of him. I thought it was funny as hell, so I put them up on a website. Soon after the party, he called me and made me take the photos down, and he came over to my house and ripped up my copies. He even went through my computer and deleted my scanned copies. I didn't object or anything because he looked seriously pissed off. I asked him what was wrong, and he said someone sent the pictures to his mother. He pretty much called our relationship off right then and there, and he and his parents moved out of state because they were afraid people would start rumors What a jerk."

...and best.story.ever.

"I had a roommate named Richard. While living with him, I met this chick: she was a catch, to say the least. One day, about a year after we started dating, I came home from work and noticed her coat and bag on the couch, Richard's door was closed, and some curious noises were being emitted from the room. I opened the door and found Richard bent over taking it in the ass from my girlfriend wearing a strap-on!!!! So, naturally, I was a little pissed. I began to yell at her, then she yelled back about how pissed she was that I wouldn't let her fuck me with the strap-on and she was entitled to find someone who would. I called her a stupid c*%t and then she ran to the kitchen, grabbed a knife and tried to stab me with it. That would have been scary except that she was wearing the strap-on the whole time. I eventually wrestled the knife from her, informed both of them that the situation was a little too weird and I would be moving out. She never even called to apologize"

HAPPY V-D, Y'ALL!

2 comments:

RockitQueen said...

Egads! That's BAAAAAD! Makes me feel better about the guy that told me he was going to help me move/got me a truck/etc....plans all in place. Then I never heard from him again! So I don't feel one bit bad about telling everyone why I nicknamed him "The Thumb". :-)

Happy V-Day, West Coast Sis!

David said...

That bitch said I could borrow her car, and she gave me the credit cards while shaking from multiple orgasms. Don't listen to her lies.