So your guy is a lying, cheating, douche. I get it. It sucks. But hey girl, don’t dilute your drink with tears. There is a bright side to everything. And if you’re not ready to talk about the metaphysical reasons as to why it is so awesome to breakup with ass-hat douche-face-loser-tard, here are some mundane reasons as to why I think it’s great. Enjoy.
Buying new lip-gloss. I’m one of the few women out there who when she breaks up with a dude, does everything short of murder him to eliminate my brief lapse in judgment, also known as my relationship with said douche. In saying that, I throw that old blowjob contaminated lip-gloss in the garbage. Cause’ that’s where the remnants of your small-dick molecules belong. Hence, the new lip-gloss extravaganza begins, and hopefully so does my ex boyfriend’s suicide note.
Washing the ex boyfriend smell out of my bed sheets. Seriously, I don’t need aromatherapy for jack-offs. Do I look like a muthafucking beatnik? Wash that shit out of your bed sheets, and go get some new exotic “Latin” aromatherapy blend or something. Washing ex bf remnants out of bedding is probably the main reason women invented the washing machine. Hell, it may even be the only reason we use one. So fresh and so clean.
I can jerk-off without being harassed by insecure loser-face over here. I mean, I could jerk-off anyways, and hell yeah I did, but now I’m not getting harassed over it. And I’m not getting asked all these MUTHERFUCKING lame-ass questions like, “did you come”? Seriously? If you have to ask me, NO, NO I DIDN’T (yet again). And honestly, your insecurity is a pathetic turn-off. You aren’t asking me because you actually care if I did- it’s just for your own twisted ego to help you sleep at night. Sometimes I feel like a pedophile because apparently I only date CHILDREN.
My friends get me drunk and may invite male strippers to dance on my face. Amidst all the high fives and shots of tequila, is the joyful acceptance of your girlfriends celebrating your return to sanity and dignity. This dignity may or may not be compromised by stripper dude asking you if you want his body, and if you think he’s sexy, and to come on baby let me know (my answer is usually no, but hey it’s the thought that counts) but who the hell cares! It’s free! And, it works like a charm e-v-e-r-y time.
I can hookup with whoever I want, no questions asked! Okay, maybe one question- your place or mine?
Wow, look at that- I have more money and my ass ain’t fat no more. Yeah that’s me in the tube top and tight leather pants rolling around in all the money I saved from phone bills, shitty restaurants that you made me pay for EVERY TIME, X-mas and birthday gifts, and my god damn psychiatrist (thanks asshole!). Looks like I have enough for Vegas now… and a Texas mickey.
I don’t “have to” FUCKING CARE, fuck. Awww Tim Horton’s didn’t mix the sugar in your coffee (again)? Your socks got wet and it was hard to concentrate? A guy in the gym made you feel self-conscious about your body? Bitch I grew up in Military school, so suck my dick, SUCK MY DICK HARD! Do you really think I give a shit? That’s what mommy is for. Hell, even your mom probably doesn’t want to deal with your bullshit. Get a shrink. And furthermore, I don’t have to explain ANYTHING to loser-face boyfriend anymore. Like why are you wearing that outfit (because I’m hot and I only have like 20 more years of hotness left)? Who are you with (My colleagues who are either women or fucking elderly)? Who was that guy (I don’t know, the bartender, duh)? And just for your future reference, this is why women buy axes and go homicidal. Or rat poison. Whatever works.
I don’t have to put up with his lame-ass companions. Because he’s such a douche to begin with, the only friends he has are regulation losers and full-on skanks. Now you don’t have to feel any guilt when you drive by their houses and throw things at their windows. Soo much pressure taken off your shoulders!
I laugh myself to sleep. The look on his face after I dumped him was priceless. I mean, just, HELL YESS. It’s what dreams are made of. And as such, I use it to gently coax myself to sleep through the hilarity of ironic laughter! Laughter that tickles you from the deepest parts of your soul-belly. You know what type I’m talking about. I wake up feeling so refreshed, calm, and collected.
So there you have it. These are some of my favourite reasons as to what I like about breaking up with pricks. The only piece of advice I want to give to women who break up with their less-than significant other is this: FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, AND ALL THINGS HOLY, DON’T BE HIS FRIEND AFTER YOU BREAK UP. Cause’ that’s some ho shit right there.