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Hi guys! In addition to working with Dave on Don’t Trust the Bitch in Apartment 23 and eating chocolate chips by the handful, I co-run this vintage clothing business with my other David soulmate, David Neher. He’s had this business since 2003 and I came aboard as a self titled “V.P. of Marketing” which means we go shopping for vintage clothes and then he buys me chiliquiles.
We have so many great t-shirts and western pearl snaps on our website and even more stuff on our ebay store. And girls, don’t be turned off cause all the models are guys, everything is unisex and looks great on girls cause it’s not Downton Abbey times.
Oh yeah! To my Dealbreaker family, get free shipping on orders over $100 with the coupon code DBSHIP entered at checkout.
Hope you like!
Marisa
I’ll forgive the typo because !!!!
We always thought Dave could use an extra O in his last name.
I used to answer a lot of relationship questions over at my other blog, the in-hibernation DEALBREAKER. Looking back, I find it really funny that anyone ever trusted me with love advice, because it’s not really a topic I’m that well versed in. I’ve dated successfully, messily, carelessly, carefully, and casually, and up to this point, they all end the same way: by ending.
Someone just started following me, and I clicked on their name and saw they only had two pages of posts. It starts a few days ago, with an entry about being broken up with and not knowing what to do or how to feel, so I thought I’d offer up some unsolicited little nuggets. They might not even see this, but on the off chance they do, maybe it’ll let them know that they’re not alone in the war against the Sads.
Much like eating a peanut butter cup (*let’s be honest, this applies to all PB cups, not just Reeces. Can’t discount store brand, or the weird ones from the 99 Cent Store), there’s no wrong way to get over someone. BUT, there’s also no right way. I think the getting over someone process can be split into a few phases.
Phase One is what I like to call “No One’s Ever Felt This Pain Before,” where you walk around in a haze, unable to comprehend what had happened. You ponder the BIG questions: Is this real? WIll I ever feel better? And most importantly, why don’t my friends seem excited to talk to me about this again and again for hours at a time? You’ll mope, you’ll drink more, and if you’re anything like me, you’ll snap at one of your writing partners in the middle of a meeting, go into your room, and eat some of the mushrooms you’d bought weeks earlier with the intention of doing them with your ex. (NOTE: THIS IS NOT PART OF THE PROCESS!! SKIP THIS PART AT ALL COSTS! IT’S NOT FUN! THE COLORS WILL ALL LOOK SAD!). This phase, while excruciating to all parties involved, is important. You will look back at this phase and laugh at yourself. The night where you got high and sat under your desk, leaving an ill advised, sad voicemail. The days spent debating whether to burn all those photos or leave them in a box. The afternoons spent driving around with a box and some matches, looking for an empty lot that isn’t close to any trees. This will all be fodder for Phase Two.
Phase Two is “The Void.” You will look back at your hilariously self destructive and downright annoying behavior in Phase One and long for those days, because all there is now is nothingness. Questions here include “did I really lay under my desk for an hour?” “Do I really like the first Death Cab album that much?” “When did I lose/gain 15 pounds?” Phase Two is like a stunned silence. It’s an eerily calm period where you contemplate actually getting something done that doesn’t involve wallowing. You will Facebook your ex and think, “wait, why was I scouring this page? They’re not a calculating, cold, emotional torture machine! They’re not controlling my happiness telepathically! They’re just posting pictures of Tapas, like everyone else!” This realization won’t make you feel better or worse, but it will wash over you slowly. Pretty soon you’ll regret burning those photos, or if you’re like me, wiping them from your hard drive(s). All of this is bolstering you for Phase Three.
EDITORS NOTE: This is usually where my favorite sub-phase comes in. It’s too tricky to count on its own, but Phase 2.5, “The Hail Mary,” deserves mentioning. This comes into play when you’re sure you’re over the person, but you’re not 100%, and the more you think of it, the less sure you are. The percentage drops rapidly to the point where you’re ready to load your D cell batteries into your boombox and “In Your Eyes” this bitch, Lloyd Dobler style (If you’re too young to know what this means, just pretend I referenced a One Direction lyric or something). Here you are, filled with purpose, hope, and reckless manic energy. You’re gonna win them back! You’ve got a gameplan, now put it into action! Did it work? GOOD JOB!!!! Oh wait, it didn’t? Well, nice try. I hope those tickets to Italy are refundable. Carry on, then. Onto Phase Three.
Phase Three is called “Oh Shit, I’m Supposed To Try And Talk To Other People?” This is the end of the road. There are a million sub-phases like the one mentioned above, but this is the one that matters. You’ve come out of self imposed hibernation, you shaved your breakup beard/armpits (I don’t know, maybe that’s a thing? Sorry ladies), and you’re considering rejoining the world. That’s GREAT. Your coworker is attractive and wants to discuss “work” (*boning you) over drinks. Your neighbor is attractive and wants to discuss “your community garden” (*boning you) over drinks. The confident Trader Joe’s clerk is attractive and wants to discuss “boning you” (*their new juicer) over drinks. GO FOR IT. Try your hardest not to let the debris of your last relationship wash ashore on the sandy beaches of this budding new situation. And try not to let that sloppy sentence conjure up images of sand in your bathing suit areas.
Clearly, this is a simplification. Just remember that your pain, while real, is not special and unique. You’re sharing this, however privately, with almost every one in the entire world. Don’t be afraid. If I could leave you with my own personal motto: Everyone is an idiot and no one knows anything. And if that doesn’t level the playing field post-breakup, I don’t know what will.
Holy Shit! Where Did Dealbreaker Go?
Hello friends! It’s me, Dave. I’m the curly-haired one in that picture, although I just cut it all off a few weeks ago. How are you? Let me explain myself. I’m not just trying to waltz back into your life after months and months of radio silence. No, I’m here to let you know where we’ve been, what we’ve been doing, and where we’re going.
Still there? Have you run screaming from this post because it’s not about how gross it is when someone says “you’re weird” when you tell a joke on a date (seriously, that shit is unacceptable)? Listen, Dealbreaker has been in hibernation for a long time. Myself and Marisa, the blonde one in the photo (although her hair is brown again! That is an old picture!), decided that we should check in and let you all know what’s been going on. I logged into this account about a month ago and was amazed that people are still following this blog. Our numbers have actually doubled(!) since we wrote a book and stopped regularly updating this thing. That makes my cold heart grow three times it’s normal size, like the Grinch. But unlike the Grinch, I’m not a cartoon, so I should probably go to the hospital.
ANYWAY, hi! Here’s the deal: We love this blog. We love writing for it and we love all the submissions you guys have shared with us over the years. We even love(d) doling out advice on here, even though we were grossly under qualified for the job. I hope we didn’t ruin any relationships with our half-baked ideas and stern commands to “break up, you dumb idiot,” which is something I think I said about 12 times in videos and posts. But, as much as we love all of that, we’ve been incredibly busy with other projects. For one, we wrote a TV pilot! Seriously! Look, here’s a scene from it:
We’ve also been writing for the ABC comedy Don’t Trust The B- In Apartment 23, which airs Wednesdays at 9:30. Tonight’s episode has Kiernan Shipka, otherwise known as Sally Draper from Mad Men! It was an amazing experience working on the show, and we’re incredibly proud of it.
Right now we are working on a new TV script, and getting a few other projects ready as well. Marisa is still improvising with the UCB Harold team The Great War most Monday nights here in LA, and I’m still doing shows with my sketch group A Kiss From Daddy. You can check all of that good stuff out on UCB’s website.
We’ll be checking in over here from time to time, whether to share a new video we’ve been working on, a guest submission that’s too good not to post, or maybe even a new piece of writing for the site. For example, I just wrote a piece on my own blog called The Three Post-Breakup Phases that I’ll be re-posting here, because I think our readers might be interested in it.
So, my little cheeseburgers, thank you for coming back over and over for repeated glimpses into relationship hell. If you hate dating, you’re not alone, but if Marisa and I could offer up anything to from our 3+ years of Dealbreaking (holy crap!), it would be that hating is easy (and let’s be honest, funny), but at the end of the day, there’s nothing better than finding someone who doesn’t piss you off enough to want to throw them off a building constantly. Good luck in your search. Maybe some of these links will help:
The Dealbreaker Index: Our first several hundred entries.
DEALBREAKER Vimeo: All those videos of us staring into a webcam. And a few others!
Self Absorption At Discount Prices: Dave’s Blog. Like Dealbreaker, but more specific and with more pizza.
Commedesfuckdown: The official site of Stephen Meiers, the amazing photographer who took that picture of us!
Don’t Trust The B-: The Official Site of the ABC show we’ve been writing for.
@Dave_Horwitz: Dave’s Twitter. Yeah, he’s one of those jerks.
Love,
Dave (and Marisa)
I Made You A New/Old Mix - Sweet Teeth
Last night I found a playlist on iTunes that I didn’t recognize, and saw that it had 17 songs I really loved. I didn’t REALLY remember making it, but as I was playing it I realized that all the songs had one unifying factor: female vocalists. Please enjoy it, along with this triumphant picture of me yelling at airplanes on the beach with my wonderful friend Eleanore, who was wearing a very important wig (Photo by Dan Kwan).
1. Land of Talk - Sixteen Asterisk // 2. Sharon Van Etten - Love More // 3. Headlights - We’re all Animals // 4. Georgie James - More Lights // 5. The Mynabirds - Let the Record Go // 6. Amy Miles - King of Girls // 7. Liz Phair - Fuck and Run // 8. That Dog - Never Say Never // 9. Thao w/The Get Down Stay Down - Know Better Learn Faster // 10. Lake - Sing 99 90 // 11. Lykke Li - Little Bit // 12. The Blow - Fists Up // 13. Mates Of State - True Love Will Find You in the End (Daniel Johnston cover) // 14. The Happy Hollows - Tell Me // 15. Giant Drag - Everything’s Worse // 16. your friend, kimi - Heart of Glass (Blondie cover) // 17. Charlotte Gainsbourg - Voyage
Dave made this for you!
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SLACKLUST: 27 Is Not The Final Destination - DAVE HORWITZ -
I’m turning 28 on Friday, and I wrote a piece for Slacklust about how all I want for my birthday is not to die.
Happy Birthday, Dave! Hope you cheat death for another year!
You can’t get hard
Things were great…we like all the same things…you speak Spanish…you’re a socialist… I’m half in love with you because of your political ideology, and you’re tall, which is a huge plus. So I work my charm, and finally get you to invite me over. We have a couple drinks, I begin to get a little drunk, and next thing you know, we’re making out. I’m sort of pulling all my best moves and when I ask you if I should get the condom, you say yes. Okay well thanks for wasting my condom, you chode. As you’re trying to squeeze your playdoh (LOL JK playdoh is stiffer) in, I realize that isn’t going to work because my vagina isn’t build to take in globs of skin. I ask if everything is okay, and you say it’s because you’ve been drinking, uh….okay… so you insist on keeping the foreplay going and I play along because I haven’t had sex in over 5 months. All of the sudden, your little soft self decides to slap my butt…several times…umm, okay…. Maybe I would forgive this if you could have actually gotten me off. All this messing around, and your little downstairs friend still doesn’t want to give me the time of day. I’m pissed and want to go to sleep, but for some reason, you still have hope in your broken penis. I wake up the next morning, and as I’m all dressed, you finally are ready. So I decide to give you another chance and waste my last condom. Things work out, and I get my mediocre fuck. As I lay down, I notice a guitar, and ask you what you like to play. You say, Guns ‘n Roses and Nirvana… yeah… I’m going to catch the next bus…
I’m offended that you still haven’t talked to me since, but then I remember that in my sexual frustration towards your malfunctioning dick that I called you a child molester for fucking a girl that is 10 years younger than you. Oops.
-Written by twogirlsonecup
Help find Clancy!
Friends/acquiantances/followers/strangers in LA (specifically the Los Feliz/Silverlake area), my friend’s dog got out late last night and went missing. He answers to Clancy and he’s a beagle mix. He’s not wearing his collar. If you see or hear anything, please contact me at DEHorwitz@gmail.com, and also reblog and spread the word so we can find Clancy. Thanks so much!