Dear “Guy with Stomach Flu,”

i think you are an asshole… i am at a loss as to why you would arrange for luxury box seats at the Staples Center and then just give me the tickets so you wouldn’t have to go on our date, especially since i got us backstage passes.  but its hard to ignore that you decided to NEVER EVER CALL ME AGAIN after about a month of talking, flirting, DATING… claiming to be puking your guts out. the fact is, you probably dumped me because i wouldn’t sleep with you… which is HILARIOUS since i didn’t sleep with you precisely because i thought you might disappear. in retrospect, i really hope you were barfing, though i think you are more likely a liar than a man with a weak stomach.

but what REALLY is confusing is why you decided to friend request me and text message me five months later? did you think i forgot?  guess what… I DIDN’T.

me
xoxox

p.s.  for as rich as you are, you really should fix your front teeth.  money can’t buy happiness, but it can buy a decent smile.

In every woman’s life, there is a time when she dates a fat guy.  Not a morbidly obese, 800 lb. “i’m on TLC network programming” kind of guy necessarily, but i think deep down all women want to prove they aren’t superficial. So in an attempt to prove they “love the person, not the image” we all find a fatty to date for a bit.  In your case, I just managed to prove that i can grow to dislike a fat guy just as much as sexy in-shape men.

Why the hell did you CRY so much? Like, you are a big dude. You work as a bouncer at clubs.  GROW A PAIR and stop sniveling.  I guess you think you can be all “sensitive” and shit since you are so physically enomous, but honestly it got really annoying listening to you sing Damien Rice songs.  Emo+Fatso=Lame-o

I almost didn’t want to tell you we were over, just to avoid the excessive crying, but figured you would literally keep calling until i gave you formal walking papers. Thanks though for helping me move… on occasion a big guy comes in handy.

xo

Dear Manorexic,

Your lack of nutrition has in fact made you completely mad.  You told your coworker that you are now dating my friend at MY work?  Complete fabrication.

I heard you are in a little trouble at work due to your idiocy in regards to minors and the opposite sex. Here’s a tip- YOU ARE A TEACHER, NEVER FLIRT WITH AN UNDERAGE GIRL.  That should shore up your problems.

Its a special kind of asshole that chooses to invent stories about their exes.  As the saying goes, shit doesn’t just happen… its left behind by assholes.

xo

HD,

you were so hot in high school.  i remember having a crush on you, but you were older and there were way sweeter, sluttier girls that were into you so i was ignored. and then we went to college together where there were again, way sweeter and skankier girls that you were into. no matter. i knew if i bided my time, i would have my chance.  and i did– when i moved back to our hometown for grad school. you had returned as well… to work at home depot.  this scared me for several reasons… one, we had the same major and i was paralyzed with fear that i would suffer the same terrifying career path. two, i was confused how such a ” cool guy ” : as yourself could fall so far, so fast.  but then it became clear — you were secretly gay all along.

i submit the following evidence as proof:

1) prior ot your employment at retail giant home depot, you were employed at POTTERYBARN.  what sort of man works at potterybarn? probably one that likes dick.
2) you initially attended an all-male high school. what straight teenage boy desires to attend an all-male high school? a teenager that loves dudes.
3) i’ve heard you still go on "all boys camping trips" each year, where you are known for your naked shenanigans… skinny dipping, running nude through the woods, etc.  All-Male event + nudity = gay orgy.
4) your college fraternity was reputed for its high acceptance of gay members.  I know how you got in…
5) you joined the all-male cheerleading team.  seriously?

in light of the fact you are gay, i just want to say i have no problem with you not wanting to date anymore. i’m pretty girly, so i guess i wasn’t your type.  hope you find the right guy for you.

ps.  i saw a photo of you and it looks like the balding is getting REALLY BAD. i’m sorry about that, really.  keep a hat on.

xo

Dear Mr. Manorexic,

Enclosed you will find your stuff (three tshirts, a pair of shorts, and a gift certificate to buy a new bedding to replace your humiliating Homer Simpson bedspread.) You will find it is in good order, so as to avoid any need for future correspondence and contact.

It is regretful that we are unable to be amicable in this split. Unfortunately, you are too self absorbed for me to bother considering your feelings on the matter (in fact, you are borderline narcissistic personality disorder, so its quite possible that you do not HAVE any feelings on the subject.)

You are 34 years old…. its not normal that you can’t maintain a relationship. I’m not going out on a limb with this assertion, as I’m sure a team of psychoanalysts or middle school students would agree. Exercising upwards of twenty hours a week when you are not training for the Olympics or a marathon is…. excessive, especially when it includes such non-sports as Ultimate Frisbee. Its lame when women complain about their body fat percentage; when you do it, its flat out embarrassing.

Please stop flirting with your students on social networking sites. That’s illegal, in all fifty states.

Perhaps its your lack of nutrition that makes you behave so strangely. But frankly, I don’t care about the reason. I’m so glad you are out of my life. I hope i never see you again… or, if i do, its on the news when you are busted for child molestation or starving yourself to death.

xo

Dear RCT,

Somehow your story has stayed with me, through the over ten years of dating I have engaged in since we met. Do you even know the story behind our brief and unsatisfactory courtship?

I had a huge crush on this guy from my physics class. He, of course, had a huge crush on your friend Lana with her giant, Eastern European breasts. But he couldn’t get a date with her unless she had a russian guy along for the date. So, there we were….except my friend your friend cancelled last minute and we were stuck alone on an awkward date. I was rather turned off by your euro sweater and cigarette smoking; you were enamored with my goody-two shoes reputation that you couldn’t wait to exploit. It was a disaster waiting to happen. I loved how you didn’t have your drivers license so your friend Vadim drove and then we got pulled over by the cops, they towed away the car since there was no registration and then waiting in a Taco Bell for two hours for a cab. Even the cop that pulled us over thought it was strange that i was with you and your foreign comrades.

Did you know that i nicknamed you the Russian Communist Troll? Its because you looked like a good luck troll, with the crazy hair and the squinty eyes. And your english was terrible, resulting in you never pronouncing my name correctly. That you were an artist was somewhat intriguing to me, until I found out that you painted a portrait of me… topless. I still remember staring at the chest on this masterpiece, feeling that my boobs weren’t too big, too small… just they weren’t mine. Since you never saw me without a shirt, I figured you superimposed someone else’s knockers on me–it was an uncomfortable feeling.

Breaking up with you was difficult… i’m not sure if it was because you were purposely pretending to not understand that I wasn’t interested in you anymore, or if you genuinely were struggling with the language barrier. Regardless, I think were were on different paths. Mine was to college; yours was likely deportation out of the country due to dealing drugs.

Thanks for teaching me vulgar sayings in russian.

xo