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Best. Break-up Letter. Ever.

6 Jun

Creative Break-up LetterI recently saw an article in Yahoo! Shine and had to repost it and ask the question:

“What is the worst break-up letter you’ve ever received and/or sent?”

This particular letter is from a woman who writes to her boyfriend and tells him how to find his personal belongings after finding a message from another girl, on his Facebook page.

Whoops!

Personally, I’ve sent letters to my exes that would make mothers wonder if they were raising their sons right, but never anything like this. When my ex (in 2008), stole my heart and beat the living crap out of it…I did sell his stuff on Craigslist. And, I did drop off a letter to his mother. She was the best way I could reach him, I promise.

Tell me, what’s the worst break-up letter you’ve received OR, the best break-up letter you’ve sent?

The Human Trafficker

4 Jun

The Human Trafficker and I never dated…but his emails were atrocious and funny.

Let’s call him…John.

I’ve never met a nice, good John. They’ve all been assholes. My ex, this guy, The Crapper (another word for John)…The Chemist…

I, of course, came across his profile while browsing through online profiles…his screen name was Hedgeman23. It totally gives this blog the backdrop it needs to set the storyline.

John’s first opening paragraph was this: 002 [Magazine] has voted me the elite of Houston. I get out of bed in the morning just to greet my playmates. I hold nothing back and am always ready to go all in for the right person – however have not encountered this person in the US. I crash half a million dollar sail boats because I like the splash. I crave a high IQ and if you are ready to trade wits – I will meet you half way. 

I find that a lot of guys write like this on their profiles to seem upwardly witty, but not John. I assume this is what John is like 24/7. When I saw his profile in 2011 (it’s been that long), he had pictures of himself (of course), pictures of himself in front of the bathroom mirror, pictures of himself and friends, in prestigious bars with bottles in hand, and pictures of himself with (obviously) lucky bleach-blonde ladies with fake boobs. And don’t forget…the picture of himself standing next to a lamborghini, pointing at it with a mischievous grin.

I liked his car. I’m a car person. So I wrote to him in my usual way when I’m not interested in the guy, but want to say something.

Me: “I don’t think we’d match up well romantically, but I wanted to comment on your car. It’s pretty sweet! Interesting color choice.  I like the 20″ rims. What’s the horsepower on it? Is it yours?”

Not a great email to send to an egotistical guy who thinks his shit doesn’t stink.

Him: “Ok. a) I don’t know you. b) It’s my lamborghini – when you spend $180k on a car – you can pick the color and all that Asian bull-crap to put on it. c) I picked that color for a reason. Thanks for talking mess. -John”

2013 Update: I have since learned to control my mouth and temper, but in 2011, I did not. I wasn’t trying to pick a fight with him. I paid him a compliment. Yes, a pea- and gold-colored car is an interesting color choice…I didn’t say it was fucking ugly, I said it was interesting. But, I of course had to write him back.

But, before I could write him back, he sent me d) “Let me know when you can afford 12 grand for tires! So sad…”

WTF! Dude, I feel sorry for YOU. YOU have to spend $12 grand on tires!!!!

So I of course wrote him and told him he was an asshole and took my statement out of context. I explained that I didn’t mean to piss him off and that I was a car person and just wanted to know about his car.

Here’s what he wrote back:

“I’m an asshole… Well that’s the first thing you’ve gotten correct today so congrats! You wanna talk shit to me but can’t take it when I get serious… Let me guess your a liberal? What do you drive princess? Your just barking up the wrong tree – your a socialist piece if garbage and socially retarted. You couldn’t stand on your feet for five seconds in my profession and you know it. But then again, since you may know it and are liberal at the same time – people like me have to pay your way in life. Your a nothing to me – and your humor reveals your insecurities. Still think your smart – well I did read your profile and your so over confident and bitter that you should be on a lesbian match.com seeking out softball players. Cause all guys know that your bitter and have an attitude. Yeah – you can’t do shit and your a nobody. Get a life!”

Well that went extremely well, didn’t it?

I’m retarded, but I can spell “you’re” and “retarded” correctly. Hmm.

He then wrote me another email just within a few minutes of the previous one, with: “p.s. you must be a fucking idiot.”

So, then I fueled the fire even more and told him he was awesome. No, seriously. I told him he was awesome. It looked exactly like this:

Dear John, You are awesome.

He then sent me the following message, which is why I called him, and this blog The Human Trafficker. Kind of makes you wonder what exactly he does for a living. Then again, maybe that’s why he can afford those $12 grand tires.

Him: “So that’s what’s awesome huh? Want to know what’s awesome – I buy and sell people like you all the time. Let’s see if you really have any wits???? Feel free to call me so we can sort this out in person. 832.XXX.XXX. I’m waiting with bated breathe – let me tell you….”

And that my friends…is what I deal with in the dating world. Fun times. Fun times.

 

Been A Long Time

29 Mar

Boy has it. So much has happened in my life in the year and some months that I haven’t written. I’ve gone on a few dates…nothing serious. But enough to make me actually STOP dating and delete every profile I’ve ever filled out.

I kid you not. I’m done dating. And I don’t want to date…which is the main key word.

When I actually have the time to sit down and update you on The Storm Trooper, The Human Trafficker, The Racist, The Serial Killer (he wasn’t really a serial killer), Latrine and a few others…I’ll let you know.

Until then…I can honestly say that I am living a GREAT life and I am a VERY happy girl without men.

Don’t Worry

24 May

Everyone has been asking me if I’ve had any hot dates lately or if I’m going to be blogging anytime soon and truth is, I’ve been in a writing funk. I know it’s been awhile since my last entry. I’ve also had no dates…well, no dates worth writing about…

I went out with a guy named Matt a month ago and while we got along pretty well and he introduced me to my new favorite Mexican food place, the Taco Stand, at the end of the night, it got all sorts of awkward and the date ended up like the Rib Guy date (confusion as to how to end the date when ‘he’ drops you off, while sitting in the car).

I mean sure, I’ve had plenty of blog topics to write about, but with freelance, a busy schedule filled with meetings, interviews and social networking, and the ever-so-changing treatments for my craptastic health–I’ve been left without energy to put my heart into anything creative…i.e., writing about my dating experiences.

That and Mr. NiceGuy turned into Mr. DoucheBag and that experience left me wondering if I’d ever be able to tell the difference between “a nice guy” from a “I’m-really-just-a-douchebag-charmer-but-I-play-nice-for-about-amonth-or-so-while-you-fall-for-me-and-then-show-my-true-colors-and-turn-into-Mr.Asshole-……-ta-da!”

Eh.

I guess this blog is just a “hey guys, don’t worry, I’m still alive” blog.

You never know…I might blog again sometime this week.

Actually, you can bet on it.

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