I know that all your ex-girlfriends are 'psychos.' I've heard all about
them since hardly a day goes by that you don't make some eye-rolling
reference to 'that crazy bitch' who practically ruined your life and
then went off and married some successful 'douchebag' leaving you to
troll local college bars in search of no-strings-attached ass while she
enjoys quiet weekends at home with her new in-laws in Connecticut. That
selfish, cunt.
I know that you don't think I could ever be as good of a 'psycho ex' as
she was. But, I assure you. I can. I'll be such a raving lunatic
nutcase - you won't even remember her when I'm through with you. Try
me.
For starters - I am great in bed. Isn't that how all the 'crazy' ones
start out? You'll meet me at some party through some friend of a friend
of a friend who knows I have 'whacko' potential but will fail to
mention this to the chain of people through whom we are introduced
because...quite frankly, our friends don't really care enough about
either of us to keep our best interests in mind. Alternatively, they
*do* have our best interests in mind but know that our dramatic
personalities and overwhelming egos are forces too powerful for even
the most friendly, logical advice. Thus, they abort all attempts to
keep us apart and allow us to get drunk and grope each other publicly,
shaking their heads all the while because..this shit is gonna' blow up
big time.
Meantime, we'll already be upstairs, half undressed where you'll be too
drunk to censor yourself so you'll make overly generous blubbering
commentary about how 'sexy' I am (as I knock into a table lamp with
swanlike grace). You'll also rave on and on about how I have the
greatest tits you've ever seen and am 'fucking amazing' on all other
fronts (as if I didn't know). Compared to the four other chicks you've
banged, this will be the best sex of your life. And as soon as we're
done, you'll start forming a mental list of which buddies you are going
to text message first about this while at the same time wondering if
you could possibly spend the rest of your life with me.
In the sobering light of morning, you'll forget that you wanted to
spend the rest of your life with me and instead opt for a "two-night
stand" but you'll quickly realize that I am having none of that and
somehow weasle my way into staying over, cooking breakfast and reading
your newspaper. I will also have conveniently brought my toothbrush and
some sanitary products which I quickly store in your bathroom cabinets
since 'I'm going to be spending a lot of time at your place.' Your
Maxim magazines will go from the top of the toilet to the bottom of the
wastebasket because I find them 'offensive' and 'immature.'
Later that day, you'll log onto Facebook and find out that I'm 'in
a relationship'...with you. Yay! At first, you'll think it's creepy but
then (due to your inferiority complex) you'll take it as a compliment
and change your relationship status too.
Within an hour, you'll receive 57 new notifications which indicate that
I've commented on every photo in your album in which you appear with an
unidentified female. Your relationships with these family members,
college friends and co-workers will quickly disintegrate as you mistake
my obsession for passion and declare your undying commitment to me and
stop returning other people's calls.
Friends will caution you but you'll be too blinded by my mind-blowing
felatio technique to notice anything. Besides, I've explained that
they're just jealous of our love. Together, our poor self images will
have us each convinced that the other is cheating. We'll fight about it
all the time. Non-stop.
On our 'good days' we'll shower each other with undeserved gifts and
sexual favors and the accusatory banter will be minimal - though still
prevalent.
Things will be going 'pretty well' for a while until one night your
phone battery dies and you fall asleep early - forcing me into an
incoherent panic. Six unreturned voicemails and text messages will lead
me to believe only the worst - you ARE cheating on me! To confirm my
suspicions, I will immediately log into all your personal accounts -
since you are so technologically oblivious you left your passwords
saved on my computer - and find a message to be mad about. It will
likely be a harmless flirtation from a platonic friend who lives six
states away that pushes me over the edge.
Unable to reach her or you - I will scramble into my car and drive
barefoot to your apartment where I will ride up on the curb knocking
over an unsuspecting potted plant. The commotion outside will rouse you
from your slumber and you'll stumble bleary- eyed to the window just in
time to see me throw the car in reverse and plow into your beloved
Huyndai Elantra.
In short order, the police will come, I will cry, you will shout, your
landlord will evict you and your insurance company will drop you.
On the bright side, our names will be forever emblazoned together onto a county police report.
Despite all this, it will take another several months for you to come
to your senses and break-up with me. Knowing that I am a ticking bomb,
you will execute this in the kindest, most reasonable way possible. You
will make every effort to lift my spirits by explaning that "It's not
you, it's me." and that "I deserve someone better."
All this, to no avail. The only way you can truly be rid of me is to
change your phone number and move across the country where you'll make
new friends and find a new insecure girlfriend to emotionally abuse for
months until she finally reaches her psychological breaking point and
throws a wine glass at you and storms out of a restaurant.
Everyone will be looking at you, dripping in Pinot Noir with an
astonished look on your face. In your head you'll be thinking, "Ha.
That was nothing. You should see my Huyndai Elantra."
And, that, is why I'll be the best psycho ex-girlfriend you've ever had.
Original Post
Comments (8)
Wow. Such a great mental picture. :)
That was one of the most awesome things I've ever read.
You are great..is this from life experience because if not...i mean ur just awesome..that mad me laugh. and i needed a good one. Thanks
~Love_lost
Oh. My god.
I'm just now getting rid of someone like that.
Are they all like that?
Psycho ex girlfriends is why men created sandboxes. Wonderful post. My ninjas approve.
Sounds like a dream girl
@iismileyll@xanga - It's already included at the end of the post... :|
Edit:
NVM, it's a broken link, but yea...