Remember Your First Heart-Felt “F*ck You!”?

Not all memories of your past are good ones.  Sure, there are some.  The first time you got laid, the first time you ate popcorn and potato chips at the same time, even your first solo in the shower.  But it’s those bad memories that stick out like sore thumbs.  For example – the first time you got laid, the first person to ever break your heart or your first solo OUT of the shower.  Though many people sit and reminisce on the days of yesteryear, you, along with about a kabillion other people sit and reminisce on that one person who led you on, only to step on your heart like a roach invading a home in the projects. 

Granted, you may find yourself asking yourself the question, “What the hell was I thinking?” at times, but those memories aren’t all a bag of crap – at least they shouldn’t be.  You’d be insensitive or inhuman if they were.  Maybe even a moron for dealing with such harshness of a shattered love, at least in the concept of what you thought love should be.  In some ways, you kind of owe your “first” a word of thanks.  Not in the sense of thanking them with a bouquet of roses, unless those roses are dead and wilted.  But thanking them for allowing you the opportunity to learn that you are so much better a person without them.  After all, how would you know how to deal with a broken heart if it wasn’t for that person, who lied to you, cheated on you and made you more of a less-wanted option as opposed to a can’t-do-without necessity?  Just think, there’s so many other reasons you can give thanks to that individual who never really gave a sh*t about you in private, only in public when it really mattered, when their set of friends looked on to your scripted relationship with envy.  You should stand proudly and hold your head up high as you thank the motherf*cker for:  

  • ruining someone else’s false hopes of living and loving happily ever after,
  • assisting you in losing weight after all those lonely nights of warm tears and loss of appetite, 
  • for no longer making you feel like an unwanted fool for forgetting special days like your birthday, Christmas and Valentine’s Day,
  • for no longer using you as a guinea pig for a love affair they prayed to have sans YOU,
  • for blaming you for a mistake they made, and
  • last but not least, for teaching you how to say and mean the most profound words of our country’s history, “F*ck you!”

You’d be just as much of a liar as they were if you admitted out loud that you no longer harbored any positive or negative thoughts to the tainted past. No one ever moves on completely…not when their “first” is concerned.  It’s just easier to hold on to all the profane thoughts of a “plastic” relationship than it is to admit you were a fool for love at all.  The truth is you’re going to be a fool for love many times over, even if you’re lucky enough to find your soul mate. 

Finding that one true love isn’t a matter of effort, it’s a matter of two things: (1) time and (2) patience.  Two things most people believe they don’t have a lot of.    

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Quote of the week:    “The stupidest mistake in life is thinking the one who hurt you the most, won’t hurt you again.”

The Morning After

The weekend is quickly approaching and somewhere in the world is a young skank kicking him/herself for sucking on one too many vodka-sickles and waking up to some disappointing one night stand. It’s not uncommon. In fact, it’s quite something to be proud of just as long as the high volume of alcohol continues to saturate the blood stream. It isn’t until the morning after, that those very same skanks would much rather blow their brains out with a popcorn kernel BB gun for laying up with the joker who otherwise wouldn’t stand a chance in hell with anyone hopeless, desperate or breathing. Alas, it’s amazing what an abnormal amount of alcohol consumption can do to one’s judgment and yearning loins.

Once you’ve managed to escape from the stained bed sheets of your last night’s shame, it’s hard to determine if that pit in your stomach is nothing but a hangover waiting to happen or the image of what your drunk ass was too wasted to notice before you lined the lamp shade with your underwear. Shame on the lush! Not for getting laid by a perfect stranger. That’s normal. Shame on you for not pulling out the emergency “Yuck Face” kit before giving up the goods. Your disgraceful inebriation turned out to be someone else’s 10-point score card. You were the victim they prayed for and no matter how many times you vomit or scrub your sin-contaminated skin, the scent of indignity will linger on you like pollen in the Spring time. As you drop to your knees and beg the high heavens for forgiveness, be sure to pray that your sinuses are the only thing that flares up.

You may travel through the day with images of wild positions your nameless lover placed you in or hear the engraved outlandish, embarrassing and insulting names you may have demanded to be called.  You may blame it on the alcohol, like Jamie Foxx and T-Pain.  You may even blame it on the dry spell of not having any mortal flesh between your legs in the past 3-7 months.  Whatever your reason, no amount of excuses can cleanse the disgust of your level of desperation to bed the first person who was smart enough to catch you at your drunkest state.  You will forever be a trophy on the mantle piece of the ugly, the defamed, and some would even argue – the damn right lucky!    

How do you feel about yourself now???

Don’t be so hard on yourself.  Although ½ the world would probably point its fingers and laugh for the dumb choice you let that empty bottle of booze make for you, you should feel proud that you were able to spread your good cheer like a spoonful of heated margarine, despite the fact that you may want to bungee jump off a short cliff with no rope.  You have done a good deed for someone who otherwise may not have stood a chance for companionship if he or she were standing in the middle of a puppy adoption fair.  Your combined skills of being a ho and a lush has provided someone the opportunity to kiss and tell to all their loser-like friends about just how easy you are.   And just think – all it took was 90% of effort and a bottle of 80 proof liquor. 

Now that’s how you serve your country. 

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Quote of the week:    “If you don’t drink, then all of your stories suck and end with, “And then I got home.”