Photo Finish

Ahhh, the blissful escapades of a blossoming relationship.

Everything your significant other does is cute.

Everything they say is funny.

And everything sounds like a great idea, as long as you're doing it together.

Great ideas like, say, making a porn tape together after a night of drinking.

Lo and behold, one year later, not everything your partner does is so cute anymore.

That little laugh you used to think was so cute now sounds like a dull hacksaw on a fucking beer can.

What was once a cute little snore has morphed into checking to see whether he fell asleep with a goddamn hot grilled cheese sandwich lodged in his esophagus.

And that porn tape?

Change the name from "Honolulu 8-31-08" to "Evidence".

Just a note, from a guy, to all women. You know that porn tape and / or porn pictures he took that one night? You know, the ones he got rid of / deleted?

They never delete them.

For this exact reason.

Enjoy.

Dear Andrea,

I’m going to spare you sad descriptions of my inside parts and stick to facts; After all, the goal here is not to endow your already rich shitty poetry collection but to hurt your feelings.

1. You dumped me. This certainly gives you the tactical advantage. This advantage will last until you find out (now) that I didn’t cheat on you but did keep Deloitte-quality records of girls who wanted to sleep with me and their contact information while we were involved. Some call this insurance. Others call it not being fully committed. There’s not a word for “fucking the pain away with a different chick each week”, but if there was i’d call it that.

2. I am feeling the loss. I have no romantic notions about the loss. I had a girlfriend, now I don’t. You had a boyfriend, now you don’t. I have to find someone else to do stuff with. I do take solace in the fact that I have a lot more going for me than you do, generally. I get to take that stuff with me. While you focused on accumulating stupid trinkets and cultivating insipid friendships I’ve always worked on improving myself and my circumstances (to a fault, sure).

4. Mentally generate likely insults about your sexuality in these categories:

General Physical Appearance
Ability To Orgasm Only When Being Choked Lightly
Dull Uniformity/”Groundhog Day”-ish Sex
Odd diction during sex (i.e. “Call me a whore”)

5. I was going to write something here about not contacting me ever again, but then I thought that I should be honest. You may contact me anytime (between the hours of 1:30am-2:45 am Weeknights and 10:30pm-12:30am on school nights). Of course, this contact should only be to arrange a time/place for having depressing sex and me calling you a whore.

A few small points:

The way you tell stories is really annoying. The tapes you run whenever someone says a keyword are probably the worst. When you have to say “no I’m not even done” while telling a story the listener really wants you to be done.

I’m pretty sure you cheated on me during your recent trip to xxxxxxxx. I didn’t say anything but I did log into your cell phones user interface (you’re a genius when you autosave your logins on MY laptop), copy the texts of those conversations and email them to myself. If you ever fuck with me I’ll probably reply all to your ‘my birthday party directions!!!!!!!!’ email and include that photo I took with my camera phone on our vacation to xxxxxx. You know, the one where you were doing that thing to me that I’d practically have to beg for, thus losing all pleasure associated with someone doing that thing to you. Your friends and family will certainly think I’m a lunatic but they’ll probably also have some thoughts about you. Maybe the photo will help me generate some leads for my project mentioned earlier in item #1.

Thanks for it all.
Chris

Thanks to Andy at Misanthropy Today.