I'm not dead yet...

BRB.

Dear Anonymous...

I somehow overlooked the fact that someone left me a question in my comments recently. Proof that someone is reading this jibberish!

So Anonymous asks, "what's the rule on post break-up sex?"

Really simple: DON'T EVER EVER EVER DO IT. duh. I'm going to explain this in a very round-about-backward-deconstructive way. stay with me. 

The one thing that I will NEVER understand is people who stay friends with their ex's. Because correct me if I'm wrong, but if you stay friends with your ex, keep in touch, hang out, see each other, talk, email, sms, chat, facebook, whatever, then basically what you're doing is keeping up with all the elements of the relationship that you just "ended" except for the sex. So basically, you've chosen to keep every part of the relationship that is stressful and shitty (ie, having to pretend that you give a shit about each other's problems, spending your free time listening to your partner talk about shit you don't care about, etc) and just elected to remove the one really awesome part - the sex.  So now you have to continue to deal with each other's selfish bullshit, but if you're the dude, you don't get to touch her boobs and vagina anymore and if you're the girl, you don't get to... well, have your boobs and vagina touched by the dude anymore. and that makes no sense. 

So let's go backwards now. If it was actually possible to remove all the bad shit from a relationship (ie, having to pretend that you give a shit about each other's problems, spending your free time listening to your partner talk about shit you don't care about, etc) and keep all the good stuff (sex and... well, I guess foreplay), if that actually worked, then you would have never broken up in the first place. You would have continued to be "boyfriend and girlfriend" without ever talking, without ever whining or complaining to each other, without ever being disappointed in eachother, without every feeling neglected or rejected, and instead, you would have you just fucked all the time and stayed in your "relationship."  This could totally work if it were up to the dude, by the way. No expectations, no "talking" about things, just a lot of  penis-in-vagina stuff, mouth-on-boobs stuff, and things along those lines. 

So what happens when you bone your ex? Well, you're pretending that you can go back to that place and time when HOW the other person is didn't bother you. When his/her idiocy didn't make you want to ram sharp objects into your face just to avoid dealing with the pain of how stupid they are.  When the other person was just a penis or a vagina, a warm body that you thought, "eh, I could love/get along with/tolerate this person."

This is never ever ever ever a good idea. Because as soon as you fuck, you will be reminded of why you broke up. You will lay there in bed (or in the parking lot of Dunkin Donuts, or wherever) remembering how much you love that person's penis/vagina and how much you hate the person that the anatomy is attached to.  

Either that or you're one of those chumps who falls in love with everyone you fuck. Which in that case, not only should you not fuck your ex, you should not fuck anyone. Instead, you should go learn how to not be an emotionally crippled freak. 

A little sidenote

you know what facebook is good for? making you realize that everyone you ever dreamed of having sex with in highschool and college is now married with children. and now you'll never get to see them naked. or some of them just got fat and you don't want to see them naked anymore

yo, Facebook, you're totally killing my buzz.  

I will save you

what do you need to know? I probably know it: info@youalreadyknewthis.com

What the fuck?

What is up with all you motherfuckers (men and women) who lie? I'm not talking about the lie you tell when you get drunk and wake up in some stranger's bed and your boy/girlfriend/husband/wife asks where you were. Yeah, that's a fucked up lie, but at least it makes sense in a very dishonest way. I'm talking about you weirdos who just lie randomly over shit that isn't even purposeful. You know, like the girl who will wear an orange jacket on monday and then on wednesday, make some random, casual, yet bizarrely specific comment about how she doesn't own any articles of clothing that are orange. If you've never known anyone like this, then what I just said probably confused you or sounded ridiculous. But believe me, these people exist. I just spent two years with one.

For those of you who are still somewhat confused by what I'm referring to, let me give you an example.

Example of a purposeful lie:

"No, I was definitely not with that guy/girl at a hotel last night to fuck him/her. I was helping him/her get back to his/her room because s/he has cataracts and can't see very well."

Ok, now... same scenario, but crazy person pointless too much lying type lie:

"No, I was not with that guy/girl at a hotel last night to fuck him. What happened was I had an epileptic fit... oh, you didn't know I had epilepsy? Yeah, it's been a problem since I was an infant. I was actually BORN having an epileptic seizure and the doctor had to pull my tongue out of my throat with a ballpoint pen... that's why I have that weird fear of pens, remember how I have that fear? So, I had this seizure and it turns out that you can stop these seizures with a certain kind of shiatsu massage combined with herbal tea, but it's this kind of herbal tea that you can only get in Vietnam... and no one knows about it but me and the person who told me about it, so if you google it, there's nothing there. So I'm having this seizure... and it's the kind that you can't tell I'm having a seizure, cause you probably saw me walking through the lobby of the hotel with that guy/girl, right? Yeah, it's the kind of seizure that you can totally walk straight and appear fine, but your INSIDES are, um, seizuring... and so it's actually more dangerous cause people don't realize that you need medical attention. But this guy/girl, the one you saw me with, his brother/sister who was up in the hotel room happens to be a shiatsu masseuse who specializes in treating internal epileptic seizures! and s/he's from Vietnam and happened to have that herb that goes with the massage. And so I went up for about 20 minutes to get a massage from his/her brother/sister and drink the tea while s/he went off to go hit on guys/girls at the bar because s/he's a real slime bag, the kind of guy/girl that I can't stand! Fucking terrible!"

See what just happened there? For those of you who have never experienced this sort of lunacy, this probably sounds absurd and even humorous to you, right? Well, fuck you, this is not laughing matter, there is nothing funny about this. This is where all the headaches start (and end). This is where all the fights start (and end), the ones that go like this:

• LIAR: blah blah blah lie, lie, lie, then something moderately true, something true, something that could be true, lie, lie, and then one more lie.
  
• YOU: huh? what?
• LIAR: lie, lie lie, lie
• YOU: wait a minute... what?
• LIAR: LIE LIE LIE, crazy lie, weird lie, lie for no reason lie, and then something kinda true to make you feel bad...
• YOU: whoa whoa... waaaaaiiiit a minute.. what the...? why would.... ?
• LIAR: (in a raised voice) LIE LIE LIE LIE LIE, weird lie, crazy lie, a why-would-you-lie-about-that kind of lie, and then finally, for the apex, one of them I'm-not-even-sure-what-kind-of-lie-that-was kind of lie
• YOU: (defeated) wow, holy shit.
• LIAR: you're an asshole!

I've had that fight before. Almost verbatim. Except somewhere in there, there was a lot of hysterical crying and screaming (that always scared the shit out of me when she did that; more on that in another post) and during her screaming and crying, I mumbled a lot of shit to myself, like, "crazy cunt" and "what the fuck is this maniac's problem?"

But really, my point in all of this is... what the fuck was that maniacal crazy cunt's problem?

Credentials and check-lists

There's really only one thing qualifies someone to give relationship advice... and that's their desire to do it. Because, really, who knows better than the rest of us? How do you become an "expert" at shit like that? You don't. 

Sometimes, the best advice you can take is your own. 

I remember sitting at dinner with a group of friends a while back and my friend Henrietta* was doing the "check-list" thing that girls often do with their friends when they're starting/ending a relationship. What's the "check-list" you ask? It's when you sit around with a group of friends and say, as if it were a random thought: 

• "hey, is it normal to ______"   
  
• "do you think it's weird if _______" 
  
• "if some guy you were seeing did/said/twittered _____, would that bother you?"

  

and so on and so on and so on.  The thing is, if you're asking these questions, you basically already know the answers and either a.) Want someone to refute what you think so you can have an excuse to enjoy whatever it is that is enjoyable about your fucked up relationship or b.) Give you affirmation that you're right to think what you think so you can feel validated when you bail out on the relationship.  

You basically want to just talk it out and hear yourself say it and then pretty much take your own advice. It's always some obvious shit that you KNOW is a stupid question. Like, "would it bother you if a guy insisted on playing video games while you gave him head?"  

Well...? Would it...? (call me)

*not her real name, but I always wanted to know someone named Henrietta...

I was thinking (but not saying)...

I wish I could just call up my ex-girlfriend and plainly tell her, "hey, stop being insane." And I would if I thought that for one second, it might make her think about how fucking crazy she is. But crazy people don't think about that sort of stuff. They think about things like how awesome they are and how terrible everyone else is and how victimized they are and how no one understands how great and kind and wonderful they are, how everyone wants to suck up their awesomeness and treat them like they're not awesome, blah blah blah. Things like that. That's crazy people thinking.

But I wish I could snap my ex out of it. Because getting her to realize that she's crazy is the only victory I have left in the bag. I've lost on all other accounts. Because had I known that there was going to be so much stress after the break-up, I would have just sucked it up and dealt with all her bullshit and never broken up with her - because at least back then, there was stress and sex. Now there's just stress. And someone else is getting the sex.