Love. Hurts.
I met Pashmina in college. She’s one of the few friends that I’ve written about here (Butt Sex Check ring any bells?), mostly because she was my old co-blogger back when Mushroom Printing was a personal blog where we talked about our vaginas and not the stunningly amazing group blog it is today.
I met her when I’d wandered into her dorm room to avoid my roommate, It Means Butterfly, who was probably composing sonnets to her boyfriend (Dave) and, upon spying an ashtray, plopped my ass down and lit a cigarette. We’ve been friends ever since.
While we met Loyola University Chicago, (she was an English major, I was pre-med) I popped a crotch parasite out of my delicate girl bits, she did not. I moved home. Figured my dorm had enough problems with 3AM fire drills; they didn’t need 3AM diaper changes, too. Pashmina stayed at LUC and I enrolled in the nursing program at Elmhurst College.
It was during this time that Pashmina met Dave.
(Dave must have been an extremely popular name from 1975-1985 because there are more Dave’s in my life than any other name)
Dave is not to be confused with The Daver, although, since Pashmina did introduce me to The Daver, initially, I confused the two.
I never had the pleasure of meeting Dave. I was up to my eyeballs in poopy diapers and colic while Pashmina was off gallivanting with her new boyfriend, Dave.
By the time I saw Pashmina again, Ben was a toddler and Dave was no longer Her Boyfriend. I’d taken the train up to her place in the city and as we sat on her couch with our Gay Friend James, overlooking the lake, she mentioned her old boyfriend, Dave. I was instantly riveted.
See, I play War with crappy ex-boyfriends. Like, “So-and-so beats your ex because he did this.” It’s tremendous fun, really. Especially if you’ve had a number of lousy boyfriends (or girlfriends, really), like I have.
So, I perked up. A crappy ex, you don’t say. TELL ME MORE.
James began to laugh. Pashmina joined in. I stared on, perplexed.
“Well,” she said, once she could breathe again. “He wrote me these love letters. And Becky, they were terrible. They were so terrible THAT I SAVED THEM.” She pulled them from a box in the living room.
She wasn’t kidding.
“Read them out loud,” she begged, knowing that acting out melodramatic garbage is something I excel at. She and James were practically pissing themselves.
I stood up, cleared my throat, and began in a voice that any dinner-theatre acting troupe would have admired.
“My Deeearest Pashmina,
I write to you today, my darling, from the train. Oh! (I flung my hand to my forehead to punctuate the emotion) The train is crowded. (I exhaled, dramatically). I thought of you, oh! love of my life! When I was standing in line to get coffee (I paused, to let the emotion roll over me) there was an asshole who cut in front of me! (I pointed my finger at the air, angrily) HOW DARE HE CUT IN FRONT OF ME. (I punched the air with every word)
I love you, my love of my life, oh! (more hand wringing) love of my life.
Dave
P.S. My cat box, OOOOOOOH! (I dragged that out for at least ten seconds) it smells.”
I threw myself back onto the couch in mock-anguish. Pashmina and James had tears coursing down their cheeks.
“I didn’t even tell you the best part,” she choked out. “For Christmas,” she giggled, “he made me a calendar.”
Well, I thought, that was kind of lame. But the two of them were carrying on like it was the funniest thing ever. She went to her bedroom and brought it back out.
“He made me a calendar out of DUCT TAPE and COMPUTER PAPER and the FONT was THESE NAKED PEOPLE HAVING SEX, Becky,” she started laughing again. “Each day was something he loved about me.”
“Holy fuckballs,” I chortled, “that’s SO fucking stupid.” Pashmina wasn’t exactly the “I love you because…” kind of person.
“TELL HER THE BEST PART,” James chimed in.
“THE BEST PART IS,” she broke off, overtaken by laughter, “IT ONLY WENT UP TO FEBRUARY 8.”
“BWAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! THAT’S….that’s so awesomely bad. ‘I only love you 38 days of the year, honey. The rest, you’re SOL,'” I was dying.
“AND,” she gasped, “most of those were repeats!” HE COULDN’T EVEN THINK OF 38 THINGS HE LOVED ABOUT ME.”
“That wins. YOU WIN. OH MY GOD. YOU WIN. I cannot top this,” my sides hurt from laughing so hard.
I’ve been asking her for a copy of this calendar for years now and I still haven’t gotten one, which means that I probably never will. I guess I’ll just have to make one for myself. And shit, to be fair to Dave, I can’t think of 38 things I love about anyone. Then again, I’d never want to make a cheesy calendar about it, either.
Pashmina still makes me perform impassioned readings of her old Love Letters whenever I see her. Some day, maybe I’ll vlog it for you, Pranksters. I never got Love Letters OR Love Calendars, probably because no one loved me enough. Or, more likely, because they knew I’d be unable to handle such grand gestures.
So, who wants to make me a Love Calendar for VD-Day?
YOUR TURN, PRANKSTERS. I want to hear your worst relationship stories.
Bloggies, yo.
———-
In the spirit of Valentine’s Day, I’ll give away a “Shut Your Whore Mouth” shirt to one of you.
For one entry, leave a comment with a relationship story.
For a second entry, add Mommy Wants Vodka to your blogroll (leave a comment letting me know that you did so).
I dated a pizza delivery boy (classy, right?) for a bit who used to leave scrawled notes on the back of his delivery tickets tucked into my windshield wipers… they were words to stupid boy band songs that he tried to play off were his. I wish I would’ve kept them.
You’re on my blogroll!
But the Dayquil and miserable baby are preventing me from recalling any bad stories to share. I will try again later. 🙁
Okay, this is not really a “story”, but I dated an awesome guy once, who peed sitting down. He was hot, fun, generous, and kind… but I could never get over the peeing sitting down. It’s just not right.
My man pees sitting down and I think he’s brilliant. No Splash for me to step in during the middle of the night. 😛
^^ what she said!
hey, lady! With a moniker like Squatlo you know I come by it honestly… I think taking aim at a splashy john in varying states of inebriation is a lousy way to maintain bathroom hygiene, so I, like your awesome squatter (hot, generous, and kind) like to put my butt down closer to the target when I hang hose. My lovely (and dangerous) wife never has to bitch about the seat being left up OR piddle puddles on the seat or rim of the toilet, either.
And to think such kindness might be considered “unmanly”…
The only problem with the man squat is if the man is on the larger side of the spectrum. His … manhood could potentially dunk into the dirty water. That isn’t exactly the most appealing thing ever.
Damn that is hilarious. And I have only ever dated jerks. All they aver did was cheat. My ex husband did have a baby with someone else while we were married does that count as a gift? Other than that I got nothing.
Shut up.
You are already on my blogroll.
I dated this guy at summer camp when I was 13. Shortly after we started dating, he was in the camp play. As a woman. His left breast-balloon popped. He was uni-boobed. Everyone mocked my boyfriend-girlfriend-uni-boobed performer. And me for dating him/her/whatever. Oh! whoa is me.
Oh! then, after camp, we forgot to break up. We lost touch for 4 years. He apologized for cheating on me for 4 years. I did the same. We decided that since our relationship had never had a fight, there was no point to breaking up.
Now we’re both married to other people. And still haven’t broken up. Occasionally we apologize to each other for the excessive amount of cheating that has happened over the past 13 years.
OK – not a crappy boyfriend. A pretty awesome one, when you think about it. I mean, he did let me marry someone else and never expects me to do anything except occasionally send him a witty message on the Facebook.
Omg. OMG. Ok, Pashmina. I don’t think any of us can top the Epic Ridiculousness (is that a word?) that is the Love Calendar. Seriously. That is one story that she will be telling for the rest of her days.
And let me just say, I love your name. It makes me think of squishy soft scarves and drape-y happiness. I digress.
I have something kind of ridiculous. It says a lot about me as a person, which is to say, that I am just sort of weird. But it says MORE about the other person, who is gender-confused.
When I was 19 (oh, so long ago), I was very much into chat rooms. And Making Connections. So I internet dated. And one of them in particular stands out, only because it was so amazingly brilliant. I “dated” a guy named Cameron. For THREE YEARS. In that last year “his” plot fell apart – I thought it was a guy, but oh, it was not. A guy with a heart condition that PRETENDED TO DIE. While on the phone with me. In the middle of the night. It was full of The Dramatic and Woe. And I had already bought a plane ticket to fly out for Thanksgiving in a week.
So magically, his cousin – a girl named Shelby – contacted me. She said she wanted me to come out anyway, for the funeral, and to hang out with her. I said yes. I get there (in bumfuck Iowa, no less) and she is like 4’11” and she is instantly ALL OVER ME. Oh yes, I spent a week trying (not very hard, I admit, she was cute) to keep us out of my hotel room. I never saw his family, or went to a funeral, or anything. And then she ditched me there. I had to scramble to the airport on my own a day late and buy a new plane ticket cause I missed my initial flight and sheesh, it was stupid.
Then! Oh yeah, it goes on. The supposed guy, Cameron, CALLS ME CAUSE HE IS ALIVE. At this point I am over it. I tell him to hold on a minute while I do something, I forget what, and when I come back to the phone I hear people talking. And the person holding the phone has the voice of a girl, Shelby, and yeah. All along, it was her, trying to get in my pants in the most crazy scheme ever.
There’s more but this is already long in a really sad way. I think I can honestly win, here. I like to tell this story to people much like Pashmina tells people about Dave. I just still cannot believe it.
Wow, Aimee, that was great! David Sedaris would love this story!!! You should have written back to “Cam” that Aimee had died during a sex change operation, but you, her sister, was answering her mail.
Aw, man! Why didn’t I think of that at the time? I think my brain was too entirely confused by The Iowa Immortal Dead to function properly. Hindsight, dammit, hindsight.
I thought the 1st girl I fell in love with was the girl I was going to marry. Idiot. Anyhow, we dated for 2 years then one day we are driving down the street and she just blurts out “I don’t love you anymore.” Really? WTF? Where the hell did that come from? Total Blindside. I considering driving us over the bridge into the river. Since this was my first love I cried like a wus for weeks. Finally got over her and moved on. Started dating other girls. The ex gets jealous and wants me back. Like an idiot I got back together with her. The next two years were hell. Finally we broke up. BUT being dumped like that has scared me in all my relationships. There is part of me that is always waiting to hear “I don’t love you anymore.” It does not help that two years into my marriage my wife came home and said “I don’t think I love you anymore.” again total blindside. I’m seeing a pattern here. Maybe it’s me. Happy ending though – I’m still married. =)
After my first marriage ended, I was home visiting family and my ex. I had doubts if i should have left him, and i was thinking, maybe we could still work it out. I was at dinner with my ex, commenting how much I missed the city and friends….and him. He gets real quiet and says….”you know what i miss the most?” my heart skipped a beat and i held my breath….”your mother’s roast duck”…that was the last time i saw him.
Shall I speak of the college boyfriend who cheated on me while I was away? Broke up with me, kept getting drunk and talking about me to our mutual friends. Tried to “get back together” with me a few months later (aka Have The Sex), and when I wouldn’t, told me he never wanted to see me again.
Or maybe the Russian fling? It was the accent, I swear. What an accent. I fell hard, we were together (smallest. penis. ever.) for a little while…then he broke up with me…wait for it…over Instant Message.
Now I’m happily married and expecting our first, but damn, I don’t think those other guys even qualified as frogs!
Shall I speak of the college boyfriend who cheated on me while I was away? Broke up with me, kept getting drunk and talking about me to our mutual friends. Tried to “get back together” with me a few months later (aka Have The Sex), and when I wouldn’t, told me he never wanted to see me again.
Or maybe the Russian fling? It was the accent, I swear. What an accent. I fell hard, we were together (smallest. penis. ever.) for a little while…then he broke up with me…wait for it…over Instant Message.
Now I’m happily married and expecting our first, but damn, I don’t think those other guys even qualified as frogs!
You’re on my blogroll, yo!
My boyfriend who I’ve been with for over 2 years and who I HAVE A CHILD WITH spelled my name wrong on my Valentine’s Day card last year. Yeah, that actually happened.
Now he just writes ‘Babe’. Smart guy.
blogroll
let’s see there was the marine I dated for 10 months 7 of which he was overseas and had several online relationships with others during that period … when he got back home he gave me strep throat then told me he was engaged to one of those other girls … or better yet there is the guy I dated 2 years ago who got another girl pregnant, waited a month after to tell me about it, and then a month after our break up they were engaged.
see a trend? 9 out 10 of my exes get engaged to the next chick they date after me
I dated a string of “worlds worst choices” for years in my youth. When I was 17 my boyfriend told me we were going on a picnic for Valentines Day. Sounds sweet right? Not so much. His picnic consisted of strawberry wine coolers(warm mind you) and some goat meat…yes goat meat… like from the goat I had played with at his house days before.
As if you aren’t already on my blogroll!!! I mean, seriously, woman. (Does that mean I get a second entry?)
Ah, the many many idiots who once were. There was the fabulous guy who broke up with me with the gentle explanation that he wasn’t being fair to me because a pick-up game of soccer was more important than spending any time with me. There was the guy who broke up with me immediately after getting back from a trip because he thought he might have a chance with this other girl, a girl who laughed when I told her this (she lived in my dorm). There was the guy who broke up with me THROUGH HIS YOUNGER BROTHER, who happened to hate me, and then a year later sent me an obscene letter telling me all the things he wanted to do to me and have me do to him and that he was doing to himself while writing the letter–this when the most we’d done in our brief relationship was hold hands.
And then there was my ex-husband. Among other prize-winning moments of assholery is the time he came up behind me as I was brushing my teeth in the morning, cupped my boobs in his hands and looked at them in the mirror, then said “I guess they’re right about what happens to boobs after breastfeeding,” and walked away. This was NOT a compliment, Pranksters. Oh, and he wanted us to try out swinging. To strengthen our relationship, of course.
Have I ever mentioned how happy I am to have found My True Love? Thank God.
damn..i so want to win one of these shirts..
don’t have any very good lousy bf stories, i have better lousy gf stories..which makes the whore t-shirt that much more apropos..
..although….
i did date this construction guy i met while working as a cashier at the road pilot gas station one summer during college (so white trash sounding, i should get an entry just for that). he was totally hot, his father OWNED the construction company, and he thought i was a GODDESS…
..but..he was dumber than a box of rocks begotten from the sludge of the mississippi river and didn’t understand ANY of my jokes or witty comments…and as nice as his ass was, it couldn’t laugh….or respond with a line of its own…so i dumped him…after 2 weeks…he still came to back to the gas station almost every day to try and woo me back….
..hope this counts…
…would go for a second entry, if only i knew what the fuck a blogroll was…
He didn’t happen to install siding, did he? Blond hair? Blue eyes? I’d give you a name, but I’ll be damned if I can remember it…but I’ll never forget that adorable ass. I lasted about two weeks too, when I realized he was painfully stupid AND a lousy lay.
how about a crappy husband story?
so thing 2 left me for another woman this summer but by the fall he and I were on friendly-ish terms. I was out at his karaoke show (he’s the host) and chatting up some guys that had come in. (ok, remember the part where HE left me?) He strolls on over, puts his arm around me and says ‘hey guys.. I see you’ve met my wife’
He did not know these guys, I did not know these guys. I was certainly not chatting them up in a ‘hey.. welcome to hubby’s show’ type of way.
ARRRRGGGGGG
I stopped hanging out with him shortly after. (AND he went right back to the chick he left me for)
oh and yes, you’re on my blog roll
Too many horrible men to mention, and I’m out there again yikes. The one that comes to mind is a short man that acted like he was god. When I broke up with him he invited me to dinner as friends, then presented me with tickets for us to go to jamacia. When I left him sitting in the resturant he still came and banged on the back door for hours until i texted him that i called 911 yikes! love your blob but don’t have my own to put you on my blogroll.
My sweet, caring, sensitive ex husband, upon trying to “win” me back after cheating on me multiple times says…”you are a depressed overweight mother of 3. Who else will ever want you? ” AWESOME! He’s a sweetheart ain’t he?
where do I even begin?
how about the asshole who moved in without asking me? he just moved in. all of a sudden, I was living with a guy. how does that happen?
or the same guy, when we broke up, who somehow made me agree to timeshare our lovely apartment (it was lovely)? I’d live there in summer while he traveled and he’d live there in the fall while I went to France to study. except he emailed two weeks after I got to France telling me he didn’t want to live there anymore and to come get my stuff (furniture). um how was I supposed to do that? from Europe? never mind that he ASKED me to leave my furniture because he didn’t have any.
or how about the douche that dumped me over the phone?
or the one who told me I had too much pubic hair?
I have to stop or this list will get really long.
I had a guy write me a poem and then creep into my garage in the middle of the night to put it on my windshield.
Two things wrong here:
1. I don’t care about your pheromones
2. I don’t like creepers and I freaked when I saw a note on my windshield at 7 am. I was all “WTF? Who broke into the garage?”
You have been on my blogroll for about a month now. You probably haven’t gotten much traffic though because I don’t have a lot of friends… That is not true. They just don’t know how to read.
Johi (aka Corn fed Girl)
I once dated a guy who gave me a pair of silk boxers with candy hearts for Valentines Day while we were driving in a carpool of people! He went on to tell them all that I was going to model them for him later! I broke up with him the next day. He decided to send me a letter that included phrases such as, “I love you because your sister-in-law gives us free hot dogs at the mall!” and, “You never asked me to go on a hike?” I hate to hike! Hiking involves sweat and peeing in nature!
One of my ex boyfriends had his mother make me a teddy bear.
It would have been sweet if the bear didn’t resemble the creepy kid from Pet Sematary AFTER he came back from the dead. That thing scared the bejeezus out of me and took a flight out a window right after said boyfriend and I broke up.
WATCH OUT FOR THE LOVE BEARS.
I have so many bad boyfriend stories, although most of them are about the same guy! He used to buy me bears! Seriously, one christmas I got a pretty big gift from him, I opened it and it was a box from a nice lingerie shop. I was quite pleased, but then opened the box to find a fucking teddy bear.
There were plenty of reasons why the relationship was very very wrong, but truly the last straw was one night when he stormed into the bedroom where I was working on the computer, and demanded of me: “Have you been using my facial scrub?”
I had a guy tell his ex girlfriend’s mother that I couldn’t date him because he was not Catholic.
Which is funny, because neither am I.
I dated a guy that was very dramatic.. Everything was over the top. I had to break it off when he carved my name IN. HIS. ARM. I felt bad breaking up with his while his arm was scabbing over in the shape of my name but CREEPY!
We will skip the beginning and go straight to the end where, upon giving birth to our second child and having complications that he didn’t witness because he didn’t want to be in the operating room for the c-section, my soon to be ex husband managed to get a nurse’s id badge (she gave it to him to get food and get back on our floor…I’m sure that is a major violation), both he and she were “missing” for an hour and 15 minutes and he comes back with a shit ton of food…nothing for me. He proceeds to then abandon us at the hospital because he needed to get more drugs. Bored yet? It gets better. He then calls, texts and facebook stalks ME for 3 months accusing me of having an affair which according to him, began a week after I had the baby (with a c-section…thank you). He is bat-shit crazy I tell you. Bat. Shit. Crazy. I clearly married him for his dick because he has nothing else, including decency. PS…I’m doing great because obviously I get to keep both my babies from that psycho douche bag.
Love following you on Twitter…Peace
I dated a guy in college briefly named Ted. Broke up with him because, ultimately, he didn’t want to go to a dance function with me. But he couldn’t just tell me that when I asked him 2 weeks prior. No. An hour before he’s supposed t pick me up I get a phone call from his roommate saying Ted just called him from jail. I’m all “OMG lets go get him!”. Well, its jail in a city an hour away & some guys have already left to get him. I’m all “I’ll come over & hang out until he turns up” since I’d been hanging out there daily for months anyway. Well, no roomate has to go somewhere. “OK call me when Ted gets in”
I call about 10 minutes later, forgetting roommate had left and roommate answers the phone and I hear Ted. Oh yeah, their back. No Ted’s too drunk to talk. No I should not bother coming over. I’m suspicious. I agree, then go over there with my roommate. When they finally let me in Ted is laying in the middle of the floor passed out cold while his buddies drink beer & play video games. I grab a beer from the freezer, grab Ted’s arm and shove the bottle in his arm pit. He sits up, cussing me out & I cuss him out and my roommate cusses out the other guys. I slap Ted & we leave. And laugh the whole way home
Just tell me if you don’t want to go to the damce
You’ve been in my blog roll for ages
Unbelievably, I don’t have any horrible relationship stories. I know. I don’t get it either.
I put you on my blog roll as soon as I figured out what one was.
One year my ex-husband gave me an ugly wicker chest. In the chest were index cards, in envelopes. One for each day until our wedding. It sounds good, but they were numbered and every day I had to search through and find the correct one. They were all mixed up because he dropped the chest before he gave it to me. Each index card said “I love you.” Some said it in French. And he got pissy if I forgot, or wasn’t thrilled to open yet another index card that said “I love you.” He bragged to everyone we knew about how romantic he was and what a clever gift he’d created.
It pains me that I married him anyway.
You’ve been on my blogroll for, like, 3 blogs! (I may or may not have commitment issues)
I know, I’m the only guy here, but hey, Aunt Becky is funny as hell, and kinda hot in that “damn! that chick is nuts!” kinda way. And I know a lot about them, as I used to (apparently) only date the women that were nuttier than squirrel-shit.
My last girlfriend used to break into my house (after we broke up) to go through my old phone bills to get the numbers of anyone I might currently be dating so she could call them and tell them to stay away from me. Luckily that only worked on the sane ones, so I still had lots of dates. She did that even after the restraining order. And the 72 hours in county for violating the restraining order. Did I say I only dated the nutty ones?
Word to the wise ladies: Never date anyone you meet on twitter. Trust me on this one. Makes squirrel-shit look like an ice cream cone for someone with peanut allergies. Well, unless we’re talking about Aunt Becky, of course. Maybe.
My babys daddy used to write me love letters that were pretty similars to Pashmina’s ex. The best one though. He drew a picture! to my oldest daughter. It was a cross(I think) and had some lyrics from a country song on it. It rivaled my 5th graders, that would make it good, my 2 year olds art work. It was ahmazing! I just threw it away the other day. Oh it was on a PAPER TOWEL! lmao. such a loser! I just burned the box of ridiculous letters a couple months ago.
Well, I met this boyfriend when I was 12. At 16 we started dating. It was great. No complaints…until one birthday party 6 years later…
He showed up to my raging house party with my gift: a six pack of beer. I didn’t say anything, but friends did. His reply to why it was such a lame gift: “Well, it’s imported!!!”. Carlsberg. Yup, high class beer.
We broke up shortly after for different reasons…
He still hears about this fatal error at every one of my birthdays because we ended up getting married! Ha!!!
He gets good gifts now…this year’s was diamons earrings, so I guess he learned 😉
I’m not a robot?!
oh and you are so totally on my blogroll. 🙂
I was stalked by an ex and had to get a protective order, after he came to my house with a knife and caused three grand in property damage. Thank GOD he couldnt get into my house! He fought the protective order, but I was awarded one anyway. He always thought he was the exception to every rule, including that pesky “no guns” clause in the protective order.
I really want that shirt so here’s the link of him trying to make himself an exception to that pesky gun rule:
https://ecf.utd.uscourts.gov/cgi-bin/show_public_doc?2009cr0896-38
DENIED.
I JUST posted a relationship/bad gift story earlier this week.
To sum it up, this guy I was dating forgot to get me something for my birthday so on the way to dinner pulled into the gas station and took some cash out of the ATM and tried to call it my gift.
And then? I marred the dork.
Also? You’ve been on my blog roll since like 1982.
I also had an ex who used to send me song lyrics and try to pass them off as his own. He was also full of the romantic words, but sometimes they were not so romanticle;
Example;
“You have to take me back because even when you’re ugly, I think you’re beautiful.”
He was a real charmer. SUPER CHARMER!
Furthermore, you’ve been on my blog roll for many moons now. More moons than I can count.
My love life is sadly boring, but what I can tell you is that I did that classic mid-age housewifey FB email to my 8 year on/off guy from my late teens early 20s. My friend calls him my plan B, the guy I think of how great things would have been (or will be) when my plan A is sucky. He emailed back … Karen WHO?! EIGHT F’ING YEARS OF MY LIFE!!!
Ah, well. He did make my knees truly knock. And it was classic Curtis, that I can tell you for certain. He, of all people, WOULD say that, if to make sure he comes out on top, which is why we stopped being together in the first place. So much for a plan B.
Speaking of Daves, though, I once knew a woman who replaced Dave after Dave after Dave after … I guess so that she never made a mistake at that moment when she calls somebody’s name?
Here are two pop culture reasons why nobody should name anyone Dave for a while:
http://www.milkandcookies.com/link/45277/detail/
and classic Suess …
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Sneetches_and_Other_Stories#.22Too_Many_Daves.22
http://www.freondream.com/ice/daves.html
So I mentioned this briefly on Twitter, but I was dating this dude, who NOT ONLY totally blew off my birthday and dumped me the next day AND THEN decided he wanted to try it again *AND THEN* dumped me in his livejournal! I was reading it at work and in the middle of some entry about something UNRELATED he said “I’m just going to conserve my energy for someone more awesome.” And that was IT. We never spoke again. RIDICULOUS.
Shut your whore mouth! You are on my blog roll(I think)
I do not have a story to compare….
My ex threw my brand new hard back that cost $28 ON THE FLOOR! Sacrilege!!
He refused to leave a 4th of july party with me at midnight so I walked home alone… the next day he told me I made him LOOK like an asshole…hmmmm…
He also proposed with a poem and then stayed out all night… with another woman… and then rewrote the poem and gave it to her.
That is all.
I have a lovely fiance now(not the guy above)
You’re already on my blogroll, babe.
My story is from college. I picked up this adorable surfer guy from his house (he didn’t have a car) and when he gets in, he’s drunk, and then tells me he just killed a chicken in his backyard so his roommate could cook and eat it. For some reason we still went to a restaurant, where he drank an entire pitcher of beer by himself. Today I refer to him fondly as “Chicken Killer.”
OH MAN!!! So, I have a couple.
#1 – I “dated” Mario in elementary school. Sometime in junior high, he started prank calling me so I had to change my phone number. Fast forward to age 25 and my mom hands me a letter from Mario wherein he tells me all about what he is doing now and asks me to PAGE HIM even AFTER I write back to tell him I am married and “remember when I had to change my phone number, you prick?” Dude was totally looking for a booty call.
#2 – My first real boyfriend…we broke up when he broke the law and was put in a group home and a stint in juvenile hall. I hadn’t talked to him since I was 16 and seriously within weeks of getting the letter from Mario I get this letter from Jesse (also sent to my mother’s house). He had apparently saved my old letters and stuff. He was telling me about how I was his first love and all this craziness. He explains how he is in jail now but he is “a good father” and the jail thing totally wasn’t his fault…blah blah blah.
Yeah, I have a record of WINNERS.
If you want love letters you need to date a guy in jail! Long ago I dated a guy who was in jail, he would call me daily (collect, of course) and he wrote me a ton of sweet ass kissing letters (I still have them). He also sent me two gifts that he had made by other inmates (I’ve always kind of wondered how he paid…) One was a white handkerchief illustrated will sharpie marker using traditional prison drawings of a mostly naked woman, alcohol bottles, dice, and cards, with the phrase, “Liquor in the front, Poker in the rear” The other one was a stamped and tooled leather case for my cigarettes with a lighter holder attached to the side, dyed with green sharpie marker since that was my favorite color. He eventually got out, we lived together briefly until he went back to his old crack whore (really) girlfriend. The best part was after we broke up he gave my number to his brother, who was also in jail and wanted to call me collect all the time. There is also a really funny story about a car we shared, but I’ve already said too much.
Oh and I’m adding you onto my blog roll right now!
aunt motherfucking becky, you’ve BEEN on my blogroll since i figured out what the hell a blogroll was.
now, I WANT ONE OF THOSE SHIRTS YO. but i married my highschool sweetheart. so all of my boyfriend stories either involve awesome husband or ‘boys’ i dated pre-17.
although i did get engaged to a boy when i was 16. we had planned to tell our parents we were getting married at dinner after my high school graduation. he even turned down a full scholarship to a prestigious university for playing ice hockey to go to the local state school with me so we could be together.
then he ‘fell out of love’ with me like a month before prom and two months before graduation. i saw him once in the six days i actually went to college and he accused me of slashing his tires. which i so didn’t.
but i DID use minor explosives in the vicinity of his car. no further comment.
Well, let me see. On the lighter side of things, I (briefly) dated a guy my freshman year in college who wrote me creepy love poetry inside of hideously and inappropriately sentimental greeting cards. I freaked.
Then there was my ex, who had a baby with another girl while we were together. No, make that two babies. Later, after we broke up, that same girl died having a miscarriage. His baby, again. That was the same ex I was with when Pres died; maybe you remember the story? Yeah. My ex was the literal angel of death. I’d ask if I won but I’m feeling too depressed about the entire situation. Urgh.
My mother calls my ex-boyfriends my ‘learning experiences’. You’d think I’d have learned by now. Got lots of creepy sad depressing stories but I’ll share a somewhat funny one. Had a boyfriend in HS and just after he went away to college I left home (long story) so his parents took me in. It was great, we’d get to spend every weekend together, and (silly 17 year old me) I thought he was the one for life. Then a month before prom he broke up with me so that he could spend more time with his guy friends.
I was sitting on my bed (in his house) crying when his mother came in to comfort me. She was there for a while but the only thing I remember her saying was that, maybe if I cleaned my room more often, he’d take me back. Suddenly I felt this sense of calm disbelief fall over me, as I realised that if he was really looking for a stay at home neat freak like his mother, I was lucky to have gotten out of the relationship before it was too late!
He came crawling around a few weeks after I moved away for university but I wasn’t interested. I gave the flowers he left to the secretary at work. 🙂
In between college semesters one summer, for about a month I dated a guy who was in the Navy. Turns out that whole “a girl at every port” thing is fairly true, even if they have an apartment and work on a naval base… He had a 9months pregnant wife he failed to tell me about who later called me, screamed at me, and yelled at him, simultaneously.
All during the same time period that he was calling me 8-10 times a night between 1 and 5 am, drunk, calling me “Bridget” (not my name, but similar enough that he thought it was a cute nickname he’d come up with) and declare his undying-I’m-leaving-my-wife-for-you-love. I eventually had to call the cops in his town and ask them to politely tell him to knock it the fuck off, thanks officer Evans! He never called me again. (He did however send me a message on FB about a year and a half later to tell me that he’d impregnated two new girls who he thought were “the one[s?]” and that he missed me.) Sheesh.
Ok, after reading all these stories from you ladies a) I should totally win the T-Shirt and 2) I was an awesome boyfriend even when I sucked because I never sucked like THIS. Jeez! I’m embarrassed for all men. I mean, I’m no prize or anything, but for the love of fuckall ladies!
bwahahahaha!
My ex-husband faked a mental illness (bipoloar disorder) instead of fessing up to his affair and preggo girlfriend. I found out anyway and outed him to his family. He’s now afraid of me because I tell the truth, and that’s the thing that scares him the most, LOL.
I was fresh out my horrible 1st marriage & ready to find my mr right now….I has sworn off marriage at that time- & quite honestly just wanted to get laid without the BS. It was the new age of social networking….via aol/ims and e-mail. I had chatted with this fellow for weeks…flirting,exchanging pictures etc..and we decided to meet. We dated regularly and always caught him checking out my shoes…not alarming at that time…maybe he liked my shoes…or was amazed at how small my feet were(my feet are freekishly small)…he was sweet treated me well…and I was finally about to get lay I was talking about–or so I thought…..I no sooner got my socks off & only my socks off when the toe sucking truth was out….I freaked….he tried to calm me down with–its okay I don’t really want to date you…just your feet…..how’s that for an ego booster! Happy valentine’s day!
Somewhere I still have the terrible poem my husband wrote for me when we started dating. It had great lines like “Her love to him is sublime.” I’m kinda wishing for an Aunt Becky dramatic reading now.
Oh Aunt Becky… I don’t blog! You’re on the blog roll in my *heart*! 😉
So- my ex before my husband was FULL of the Crazy. Aside from all the drama that was Him. One Valentine he time he broke into my car to leave me a life sized stuffed animal- a rottweiler. Romantical? Not so much because I would leave to go to work at o’ dark thirty all by my self when I saw the silhouette of the animal in my car I ran back into the house to drag my poor still-asleep father to escort me out to the car to figure out what-the-fuck-is-in-my-car-dad!?!? No note nothing. Scared the bejesus out of me AND? My cats hated it. He also gifted me with a coffee maker, a doz. pink roses covered in glitter, and 99 motherfcking balloons in my room at my PARENTS house, and underwear that was too small. When we did break up, he followed me around campus reading me the letters he had written me over the course of our relationship, left me notes at my parents house AND my grandparents house, threatened to kill himself. Upon realization that yes indeed we really were over- he demanded the coffee maker back. ::eyeroll:: what a douche.
I submitted my relationship story to Mushroom Printing. I’m not sure if that counts.
Also, you’ve been in my blog roll since pretty much day one. You’re one of 4 people I’ve actually taken the time to add to it.
You’ve been added to my blogroll, yo! (It’s all the way at the bottom of the page, can’t figure how to get it on the side and not on the bottom.)
Okay. I was dating this guy, and man was he AWESOME!!! He let me drive his Audi TT all over creation, which was AWESOME! He bought me Flyers’ season tickets for Christmas AND a LeClair autographed jersey which was ORGASMICALLY AWESOME!
Six months into our relationship, he mentions a wife in casual conversation. As in “Oh, Grand Cayman? My wife and I went there on our honeymoon.” *whisper* not so awesome. I don’t like being an unaware homewrecker. Or a homewrecker, period. It’s not my MO.
Broke my fracking heart. Am I allowed to say fracking?
But I’m engaged to my aggravating but amazing Mr. Wench, so I guess at least I learned that even the most perfect seeming Princes can be ugly nasty toadsies.
My first boyfriend (we were 17) broke up with me because, as he said, the Holy Spirit told him to. And by ‘holy spirit’ I think he meant his man-parts, which were very much interested in this other chick’s lady-parts (and I wasn’t giving mine up).
(Please note, he wasn’t and isn’t a Christian, so invoking the holy spirit was a pretty awful thing to do to the little Christian girl aka me.)
You’re on my blog-roll & have been for some time now 😀
I was due to spend Valentine’s Day alone a few years ago, when the night before, my ex’s phone number flashes on my mobile caller I.D.
He had clearly been drinking, but wanted me to hear him out.
I listened to half an hour’s worth of drunken declarations of love.
I was almost beginning to forget why I’d broken up with him in the first place until he said,
“Ebony – will you be my Valentine!?”
That’s sweet, right?
Yeah, but my name’s not frickin’ Ebony.!
The reason I broke up with him, came flooding back, and I changed my phone number.
Take that, jerk!
I once had a boyfriend send me a beautiful bouquet of flowers with a note saying “I’m sorry I take you for granite”. I’m still not sure what that means, but I dumped him anyway.
I dated the king of poetry. He once wrote me a poem (I regret to this day throwing away) about his dream life with me, on a deserted island, we would never work and never see anyone but each other, there would be unicorns (we rode them to the island) and rainbows (that’s what we would eat), and the only other person we would ever see is a preacher (who I guess would be on the island with us, just being a third wheel) so we could get married. And we would be there. For EVER. Just…BEING there. I broke with him the next week, because my man gosta have a job, yo! Not eat rainbows or whatever.
And you were my first blogroll person EVAH!
I want one of those shirts, dammit.
I think your next goal in life should be to make a vlog of you reading that letter…. it would complete my life.
I have a lovely story of a relation-shit (as opposed to relationship)! My first BF, he waxed on about how much he loved me. And lot of other mushy shit. Then a whopping 2 months into our relation-shit he dumped me. He dumped me because his parents told him to. The only reason he told me in person: he took a poll in biology class as to whether or not he should dump me by note or in person. To this day it still delights me to remember how many of my guy friends threatened him every day for the rest of the school year.
OK, before internet dating, there were personal ads. My friends and I dared each other but only I had the guts to do it. I dated a guy who was awaiting a sentencing hearing for being DUI in an accident that killed a kid (he was a one date man), another man who had been considerer “legally dead” three times and regaled me in painful detail of all of those experiences while I gulped wine (another one date man), and also a man who worked at the Wonder Bread factory and told me he was an “oven operator.” Butcher, baker, candlestick taker . . . I guit dating then for quite awhile.
I married my HS Sweetheart, but before him, I would “go with” a lot of wieners, I mean winners…. I dated a guy when I was a wise woman of 16 and it was Valentine’s day – I show up @ his house with a gift, a CD of a band that he liked and I had searched at record stores (that’s how we used to get music kiddies) b/c this band was new and not avail at k-mart, so I think I’m showing up w/this AWESOME gift… I hand it to him in his room, and he unwraps it, aww! thanks! …wait for it… he has nothing for me. So he looks around his room, I shit you not, and finds this *little itty bitty bear* like 3″ tall that is holding a heart that is a pocket saying “I love you” on the front, and hands it to me, saying something super romantic like “here”. The pocket is empty of course, cuz he’d taken whatever was in it WHEN IT WAS GIVEN TO HIM out. I’m all “aww, thanks.” Really? REALLY? Me at 17 was like ok, I hear that men are clueless about holidays, whatever. Me now, would have been like, give me back my CD you punk! oh well. We dated 2 mos (which was my record until hubby) and I broke up “on our anniversary” b/c he was being all weirdly quiet and told my friend that he wanted to break up but didn’t want to hurt my feelings. whatever.
btw, my hubby has never forgotten a holiday, or given me something from a shelf in his room. :o)
When I finally turned 16, I was allowed to date. My first official boyfriend was nice enough to me, until he decided he was finished with ‘us’.
You see, he was 18 and getting ready for college. Upon breaking up with me, he went to a party (which in our neck of the woods, meant a bonfire hidden out in a farm field). He proceeded to tell all of his buddies that he used me for ‘sexual experience’ for college. He also told them I gave the world’s best BJ, but given that he used me for ‘experience’ how could he rate it?!
Anyway, I was a bit upset when his friends told me he said he USED me. (I should mention, many of them promptly asked me out – assuming it was because of the other info he shared)
But, then they shared the ICING ON THE TOP! Apparently, that night at the party (after we broke up) he got extremely drunk. He got up to pee, and walked into the cornfield to relieve himself. He never came back to the bonfire that night. His friends were worried about him and went to look for him at dawn. They found him face down, pants around his ankles, in a pile of (sorry, this is graphic!) vomit and piss.
Suddenly I didn’t care about what he did, I laughed for weeks (and still am, really)!
There was this one…. that I honestly don’t know what the hell I was thinking (granted I was in my very early 20’s but still)… He was a true southern boy minus the charm, his name might as well’ve been “Billy Bob” (no offense to the Billy Bob’s out there). He didn’t go anywhere (including to bed) without his cooler of Budwieser, a pack of Camels and Goody powders (yes, Goody powders) for those of you that are not in the “Goody Powder know” they are little sleeves of powdered asprin… who knew right?) and he was addicted to all of them. One night he went to bed drunk (I’m sure) with a cigarette and burned a crater sized hole my bed (I was at work)… needless to say that was the end of that bad romance. Euw.
God, this has been a great commment roll!
Okay, true story: I once dated a beautiful young lady off and on for a few years. During one of our “off” periods, she moved in with Mr.Right. He turned out to be Mr. Not Even Close, so she started calling. I had moved on, as well, but wasn’t in a committed relationship with anyone, so her calls weren’t completely unwelcome. She calls one day to say she has to drive to Birmingham (from nashvegas) for business and has a company paid hotel suite, would I like to join her. I asked “what about Mr. Not Even Close”? and was told he would never know, never paid any attention to her anyway, she was moving out ASAP, etc. Anyway, I agree to ride along. She has business meetings planned, so I take my guitar and plan to spend the empty hours writing and enjoying the suite.
Turns out the “suite” was actually a dinky queen size bed, and if we wanted to upgrade I’d have to pony up the difference. No prob, I didn’t want to sneak in and out as an unpaid guest anyway. Immediately after checking into our room, the phone rang, it’s Mr.NEC, asking about the dog’s leash. Then he calls again, asking about dog’s food. Then again, this time about the washing machine. In the space of two hours she received nine calls from this needy prick, and ended every call with a sweet “Love you too”…
During the sexless night (mainly sexless because Mr. NEFC called ten more times before finally passing out at about 2AM) she cried about how much she loved the guy, just wished he wasn’t such a whiny jerk.
As soon as she left for her first business conference the next morning I wrote her a note explaining that I didn’t feel comfortable there, given her situation, then called the desk and ordered a cab to take me to the Greyhound bus station. MY CALL TO THE DESK WAS INTERRUPTED THREE TIMES BY BEEPING REMINDERS THAT THIS GUY WAS TRYING TO LEAVE MESSAGES ON THE ROOM PHONE. Six more calls (I answered none of these, of course) before I could get my guitar and leave the room.
On my way to the front lobby and my cab, she passes me going up an escalator as I’m going down. She looks panicky, as if this is some sort of disaster that I’m leaving. I tell her she’s had some calls, gotta go.
I take an eight hour ride on a Greyhound with the dregs of society, enjoying the smell of the on-board toilet disinfectant cakes the entire ride.
Upon getting home, one of my friends calls and asks if I’d like some company, so I tell her to c’mon over. Ten minutes after she’s joined me for a drink on the couch there’s a mad panic knock at the door. I open it and there stands my former girlfriend in a driving rain, sobbing. She’d driven all the way back from Birmingham because she was worried I might be pissed… Upon seeing another woman on my couch, drink in hand, she freaked and ran down the stairs to her car, wailing like a siren.
And all I wanted to do was play my guitar in a quiet hotel suite for a day or two…
They say bi-polar women make the best lovers. Not at all sure about that…
So I have a couple stories (I’m mostly a lurker but I must step into the open for this). My first college boyfriend cheated on me with David… And then got upset when I broke up with him. He also used to write me bad poetry. My senior year I dated a 30 man who worked at the Rubbermaid factory, he took me to the A&W on a date and then didn’t have enough $ for our $15 dinner. When I broke up with him he said he regretted spending money to take me someplace nice, Ponderosa. I also had a hook up steal my contacts WTF?!
So I have a couple stories (I’m mostly a lurker but I must step into the open for this). My first college boyfriend cheated on me with David… And then got upset when I broke up with him. He also used to write me bad poetry. My senior year I dated a 30 man who worked at the Rubbermaid factory, he took me to the A&W on a date and then didn’t have enough $ for our $15 dinner. When I broke up with him he said he regretted spending money to take me someplace nice, Ponderosa. I also had a hook up steal my contacts WTF?!
I added you to my blogroll… BEFORE YOU EVEN ASKED!
Granted, it’s a blog thirty-something or so days young; It has maybe eight posts; has four followers and is altogether a tad on the wholesome side [Betty Crocker Style, Yo]…
But I am working on new posts and trawling through the blogosphere, reading and commenting and hoping for hits back.
That totally counts, right? Even if ” Shut Your Whore Mouth ” doesn’t feature on it?
I was engaged to a guy who wanted to go to his high school reunion a few states away. When I picked him up at the airport I asked him if he had fun. “It wasn’t this weekend, I just got the date wrong.”, he says. I believed him. It could happen. If you were stupid. Anyway…a month later his phone rang. He was in the shower and I didn’t want to answer *his* phone because his parents were weird about things like that. The message started with “Hi honey, I miss you, see you tonight.” Since I was leaving for the airport to visit a friend I knew something was up. Then I found baby toys under the seat of his car. And he stood me up for Thanksgiving. Then he gave me a bag of clothes, that were totally the wrong size, for Christmas. The worst part? I stuck around. For a long time. He actually called off our wedding as I was walking to the car with a box of stamped invitations. So…I finally wised up and married a guy who gave me Tupperware for a wedding present. (Hey, at least he’s honest…so SYWM!)
Dude, you’ve been on my blogroll since BEFORE WE WERE BORN! Oh wait, blogs weren’t around before I was born. Still. You were there. Muahahahaha.
Most of the stories are just too long to tell, so I’ll go with a short one that might explain part of why I think VD is bullshit.
My ex bought me my very first 2 pounds heart-shaped box of chocolates for Valentine’s Day one year. This might seem great, except for one small detail. I had had a piece of my jaw broken and removed the day before to get all four of my wisdom teeth out. Yeeaah, I wasn’t eating any chocolate for a while.
Anyhow, uh, it’s okay if I don’t win a tee, because I’ll just buy one sometime when I’ve got the moolah to spare.
In my youth (college), I “dated” a young man. By which, I mean he took me to dinner, got me flowers, the whole nine yards all while I didn’t even pretend to be amused by him lame jokes. He did not try to Have The Sex with me; he didn’t even try to kiss me. I’m really not sure how we went out so many times other than he was a friend of a friend and apparently really into women who were not into him. While this was going on, he visited his brother at Pepperdine and I was gifted with a Pepperdine shirt upon his return as well as a fake ceramic rose. Somewhere, in a box of my misbegotten youth, there is also an acrostic poem (remember those from 3rd grade?). I’m going to have to dig these all out the next time I’m at my father’s. I am embarrassed to admit how much amusement he provided for college kids stuck in summer school that year. Gales of laughter, yo.
My ex husband got our wedding date wrong when putting together our separation papers. Nice, huh?
And you have been on my blogroll since day 1 dude.
My ex husband got our wedding date wrong when putting together our separation papers. Nice, huh?
And you have been on my blogroll since day 1 dude.
Started dating a hot australian guy the very first week of my freshman year of college. Everything was perfect and I was head over heels in love with him and we were bestest friends and our roommates were bestest friends and the whole world was full of rainbows and butterflies (also, we lived 2 doors down from each other in the dorm). Until the middle of finals period, when he unceremoniously dumped me after my french final but before my math final. Spring semester was spent falling out of love with him, and trying to ignore the fact that my roommate was trying (and succeeding) at hooking up with him. Yeah. Fun times.
Also, you are on my blogroll 🙂 http://pipettesandparties.tumblr.com/blogroll
Am I too late? I hope not…
One time my friend was driving me home from college (he lived nearby) and smoke started pouring out of the hood of his car while driving down the NJ Turnpike. We stood on the side of the road during rush hour while the tow truck arrived, then the guy driving it laughed at us when we pathetically asked if it would be possible to drive it home.
Upon arriving at the random tow…place, I called my now-ex, hoping that he could take us home, or at least tell me more than “WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO ABOUT IT?”
Oh nothing, really. We’re absolutely fine. Ahem.
[…] reading one of my favorite blogs, Mommy Wants Vodka, written by Aunt Becky. The particular blog post I was reading was about some crazy love letters Aunt Becky’s friend had received in […]
Dear Aunt Becky,
Thank you for the inspiration. I knew I wanted to write a Valentine’s Eve blog but wasn’t sure what direction I wanted to go with it. Thank you for making it clear for me. I honestly believe the author of my love letter could easily give Dave a run for his money. Can you say crazy love? I would like to invite you to check it out if you have time. Oh, and I of course gave you mad props for inspiring me. And of course you are on my blogroll.
Thanks for the laughs. ~ lee
You’re on my blogroll! (I had to actually figure out to add the blogroll to my blog – so you’re the first and only so far!!)
After breaking up with my ex of 2 years, I moved 3,000 miles (yeah, new job/new life) to South Florida. Well, 6 months goes by and I get a call from the ex asking if he could visit. I was like, ‘sure, why not’. Well he came for a 3 day visit and basically stared at his phone the entire time, in the other room. The 1 time we went to the beach, he started telling me how he wanted me back and blah blah blah. I told him I rather be a lesbian (and I would have too, I could swing both ways) than go back with him. He didn’t really listen (shock, since this is one of the reasons we broke up…that and his porno addiction – I mean seriously, do we need to catalog it by type??) So 6 months later, I was dating my now hubby, and my ex calls. He asks if we can get back together again, I said nope got a bf, he says ‘there goes plan A’, asks some more stuff, I admit my bf is my finance ‘there goes plan B’ and I so ask, well is there going to be a Plan C, because WTF? Haven’t heard from him since, so he might have gotten the message.
Oh and I had another ex boyfriend who proposed 3 times to me. He said that he would win by default…that by the age of 30 if neither of us were married, we should get married. I did invite him to my wedding though, since we’re still friends.
I had an ex boyfriend who told me I should join a convent. Kind of random considering I’m neither religious or a prude. Of course now I’m married to a wonderful man and have a beautiful 3 year old while he still lives in his parents basement. I think that says it all.
I dated this boy in High School who thought he was dark and mysterious. He wore vampire shirts and worked at a store that sold LARPing stuffs. I didn’t understand any of it, but he was my first real boyfriend and I just kinda looked past it and tagged along with him to things.
Long story short I dumped him because he kept buying me things to try to make me who he wanted me to be. He would write me sappy emails, leave notes on my car, and hated when I would hang out with any guys other than him. Plus he had a 2 inch member. His family was really weird too. His sister would dip sticks of butter into a sugar bowl and eat it.
Here is my comment with a “love Story”
First I cant stop laughing at the love letter and the 38 days of I LOVE U too funny!
But I got love letters and I send them when my hubby was overseas. I of course being a girl saved every single letter he sent me and email.
But when I went to his parents to get the rest of his things after we got married I was so pleased to learn that he too had saved every letter, every card, every thing I had ever sent over 4 years. That made me feel all warm and fuzzy!
DAMMIT! I saw this way too late to respond in time for V-day because I am now too poor to have Internet at home and so my new super ghetto way of reading the Internet is to take my laptop to a coffee shop with free wifi, open several tabs, and then take it back home to read. True story. So I actually drafted this comment in my head at home to write to you the next time I had access to the webs.
You were already on my blogroll. I was going to ask your permission to write SHUT YOUR WHORE MOUTH on my only mug, which is just plain white and boring, with a Sharpie to make up for my huge disappointment at having to write this super belated response…But then I figured I’d rather just buy a T-shirt when I’m no longer living in horrible London poverty.
So, what cool Aunt Becky thing would you write on a plain white mug with a Sharpie if you were too poor to buy one that already had a cute design on it? I will write whatever you tell me to on it and will totally photograph it.
Hmm, bad relationship story. Well, there’s always the one time that this guy thought he and I were in a relationship even though I literally told him “we are not in a relationship, stop acting like I’m your girlfriend” and he continued following me around like we were. He asked me who every guy I talked to was because he was jealous that I could “cheat on him.” I told him that I can’t cheat on him if we are not together. He dropped an L-bomb and told me that he would not take “no” for an answer, crashed a party at my place, followed me on the train, called me in the middle of the night. Finally, I just yelled and told him to fuck off foreversies, and after I avoided him and everyone who knew him, he eventually did.
Ok so I just stumbled onto your blog….about forty minutes ago.
Just can’t stop reading.
I am cracking up and this is arguably the greatest comment read ever.
I once dated a guy in highschool who gave me a phone card to use to call so my parents phone bill wouldn’t be outrageous (yes, I realize this dates me). So I used it for two months, and everytime it ran out of money, it would automatically recharge.
And then the cops called. Turns out the card was stolen and connected to some strangers credit card. Also turned out that Casanova claimed he had nothing to do with it, and suggested they talk to me as I was the one calling him.
My mother was so proud.
Awww, man!! I missed the contest!! And I would have already had one entry cracked!! (Since you’ve been on my blog roll since I started blogging! Seriously, you rock).
Plus I have to say, Shut Your Whore Mouth? Possibly the greatest Tshirt known to man. I’m pissed The Hubster wouldn’t let me wear one out in public if I had one… How did I end up marrying someone so dull??