You Don’t Know What Fun Is

Hey, what do you want to do tonight? Our last few dinner dates have been great, but I thought we could switch it up and try something fun, you know? Like bowling, or ice skating, I know it’s kind of dumb but it’s good for a laugh. …You don’t like bowling? Or ice skating? Okay, that’s cool, want to wander around the museum or something? You don’t like museums? Alright, my brother has a game tonight and college hockey is pretty fun, we could- you don’t like sports either? Uh, okay, you could come over to watch some old movies. Or we could just walk around downtown for a while. You don’t like movies? Or walking? Do you like anything?

Okay, well, what do you do for fun? You don’t know? I mean, come on, there must be something… You don’t “get” fun? WHAT? How can you not “get” fun? You have to do something in your spare time. You study? I know you’re a serious student and everything, but there has to be something else. You watch reruns of Law and Order? I can come over and watch a marathon with you if I want? Thanks, but I think I’ll pass. Actually, I think I’ll call up my ex. Yes, he was a meth dealer, but at least he knew how to have a good time.

-Written by Mellro

You’re So Fucking Pretentious

When I first met you, I was utterly enthralled. Here was a guy who loved reading as much as me, thought football was as stupid as I did, and even admitted to writing poetry. It was as if my every teenage dream, to inadvertently quote Katy Perry, had come true. But then the cracks began to show. You showed me the Karl Marx posters in your bedroom - and don’t get me wrong, I’m a proud socialist, but I don’t need to prove that with pictures of a frankly unattractive, old, bearded guy watching me sleep. You reject Facebook, chart music and any movie that doesn’t certify as “independent”. Your wardrobe contains nothing which isn’t vintage (you know, that just means somebody else has worn out those clothes before you). I found myself censoring my “mainstream” tastes and watching foreign films just to avoid your disparaging comments, but you know what? I LOVE Gossip Girl, and I fucking hate you.

-Written by Maisie

You Don’t Understand The Boundary Between Teasing And Abuse

Light banter is fun. Downright lovely, in fact, when you pick up on the tiny little eccentricities I didn’t think anybody cared enough to notice. But you really, really don’t understand where the limit is. Yes, it’s embarrassing that I have a Justin Bieber song on my iPod. But scrolling through every artist I adore whilst proclaiming I have absolutely no taste in music whatsoever is a little too harsh for my liking. And yes, when I was little I had hamster cheeks like no other. Mock them all you like. But asking how such a disgusting whale grew up to be such a fox isn’t actually as flattering as you seem to think. Oh, and next time a girl gets close enough to you to tell you she once attempted suicide? Here’s a handy tip - don’t tell her she’s “so fucking emo”, ok? 

Written by Laila.

You Only Like Girls Who “Look Like They Are Intelligent”?

So I get it. You like smart chicks. I can support that. Well, wait…you only like girls who “look like they are intelligent”?  What’s that supposed to mean? Oh…brunettes with glasses. Because having brown hair and myopia makes you a much more analytical thinker. I see. So, when I was too broke to afford hair dye and contacts, I was an alluring, nerdy, intellectual type…but now that I have a job and can afford my henna and contacts habit, I somehow lost IQ points? Well, you certainly have a “type”, don’t you? Such an unusual one, too. It must have been a struggle to come up with, really.  Well, guess what! I have a type, too! Men who are interested in real women, not just an easily porn-searchable fetish.  For your information, I was reading Shakespeare for fun in the third grade.  Which was, incidentally, before you were born. I was reading books on ancient history and quantum physics before you could check out a book from the library that had more pictures than words. I may not look the part, but this is life, not a movie. Congratulations on being pedantic.

-Written by Cawlein

GUESTBREAKER: You Crymaxed

Look, I get that the sex was amazingly powerful and moving. I know that we have this “deeply intense connection” which has only been furthered by us bumping uglies. But seriously. You cried afterward. I like a guy who’s in touch with his emotions as much as the next girl, but that doesn’t mean I want you to be so sensitive you burst into tears every time we sleep together. I’m sorry, but I don’t think this is going to work. You treat me well, you get along with my friends and family, you respect me, but I’m going to get royally trashed at a club and go home with someone who’s just got out of prison and will most definitely not cry after sex.

A Guest Dealbreaker written by I Heard a Voice.

GUEST(FRIEND)BREAKER: You Think You’re Amelie

Hey, you’re cute in an unassuming way.   Aw, you’re shy?  Well, all right, I can get on board with that.  Um.  You’re so shy that you follow me & take my stuff so that we have a reason to connect?  That’s pretty fucking shy.  And you’re busy because you have plans to steal someone’s love letters and just completely wreck their mental health?  Uh, well, that’s cool.  I mean, some people just go to the park and talk, but your plan’s…great.  Hey, what’s this adorable picture of you?  Oh, that’s not you.  That’s just a screenshot of Audrey Tatou.  And it’s not from doppelganger week. 

Listen.  You have unrealistic expectations of romance.  Your only friend is that old guy living on the floor below you, and you don’t notice that he’s always staring at your tits.  You are unable to realize that you are in what is commonly termed as “real life”, and everyone around you is getting really tired of that quote about how times are hard for dreamers.  Please stop sending me two-minute-long inspirational tapes & immediately dismantle your shrine of photobooth strips of people who are not you.  I am going to go hang out with some people who do not blatantly lift every caption on their Facebook directly from this script.

A Guest Friendbreaker written by Margaret.

You’re Boring

Ughhhhhh. I’ve been talking for twenty straight minutes. You’re just nodding your head yes and half laughing at appropriate times. I’m filling silent gaps with stories I haven’t dusted off in years! Help me out! Don’t make me do all the conversational heavy lifting! Tell me something. ANYTHING! Lie to me! Tell me you saw a dragon once! I don’t give a shit, as long as it’s interesting. Don’t tell me you almost got a Coach bag on sale, because if that’s the best you can do, I will take you to the blandest restaurant I can find, throw your Bloomin’ Onion on the floor, and stick you with the bill. Don’t think I won’t.

You Can’t Hang

No, we can’t leave yet. Why? Because we just got here! How are you tired? It’s 9:30! This is my best friend from college! I’ve known him for 10 years! Ugh, why does that deserve an eye roll? Of course you don’t know anyone at this party, they’re all old friends of mine who’ve been dying to meet you! You always bail on me when I meet up with them. WHAT? “You have enough friends?” Wow. No, I won’t give you cab fare, you’re staying! Of course you’ll have things to say to them. Don’t assume you have nothing in common with them just because- oh no, put down that bottle. I swear, if you drink red wine tonight you’re gonna pass out on the couch. I will leave you here. I swear I will leave you wherever you collapse. Goddamnit. If I knew you were going to act like a baby, I would have left you with a sitter.

Your Out of Control Sarcasm

Okay, I’ll admit it. At first I thought it was funny, even (ugh) charming. But, I’ve mentally checked out ever since I noticed that you roll your eyes at me approximately 4 times a minute. Ordering Caeser salad as a side is a mockable offense? What do you care? It’s just lettuce! I get it, you didn’t like a movie that I liked. You don’t have to go off about how it’s you faaaaaaavorite film eveeeeeer and you’re going to build a monument in it’s honor. Alert the Snark Police, we have a sincerity deficiency on our hands, and it could be fatal! Could I be any less attracted to you right now? Doubtful.

Your Crying

Alright, I’ll give you a second.  Do you want a kleenex?  You look sort of disgusting.  Ok Ok, sorry.  It’s just- your face is all snotted on and you’ve been wiping your nose on your sleeve.  Listen, man, you don’t have to be a cowboy or anything but this is bananas.  If you’re going to act like a dumb baby every time your team loses at whatever sport you like or you catch the last 20 minutes of Dances With Wolves on TV or you get “overwhelmed by, like, life”… well, this relationship ain’t big enough for the both of us.