|
Sifting through the wreckage of a relationship shares many parallels
to the destruction of war and the 2006-2007 Philadelphia Flyers
season. Most people are fortunate enough to have the crucial
elements of a support foundation (friends, therapist, chocolate,
strip clubs, Jose Cuervo, etc.) in place, and can thus plow through
the difficult days, weeks and months that follow.
Those without this safety net can
fall into major depression, experience fits of self-loathing, and
may even begin to watch
reruns of (gasp!) Boy Meets World.
Fortunately, I
have developed—in conjunction with a number of soul-less, wretched
and despicable women—a battle-tested method of consolidating the
pain and grief into a singular article: a Declaration of
Self-Independence. Taken daily with four tablespoons of 151, this
invaluable relationship utility will have both men and women on the
road to personal salvation... and alcoholism.
Merely read
and internalize the following read-bytes of information, and apply
the provided insights to your pitiful, meaningless existence.
Step One:
Don't See a Therapist
|
Relationships are like a box of hot chocolates: you know
they're all gonna dissolve eventually. |
Therapists play a crucial role in
identifying “errors in logic,” little
snippets of internalized dialogue that make us feel something we
shouldn't. For example, Jill may think of her ex, Billy-Bob, and may
find herself only able to remember the stuffed teddy bear he won for
her at the fair, and the many times he said “I love you.” At the
same time, Jill is forgetting that she shelled out $75 for Billy-Bob
to finally beat the 8-year-old next to him at the watergun game, and
that most of Billy-Bob's declarations of love were directed to the
can of Milwaukee's Best in his hand. The therapist may also say
things like, “Jill, you should not directly associate your
self-worth to your relationship with Billy-Bob,” or “For fuck's
sake, his name is BILLY-BOB!” in an attempt to jar Jill from her
pattern of self-defeating thinking and behavior.
In short,
don't allow a therapist to anally violate you for $70 an hour while
your friends disperse the exact same advice for free.
Step Two:
Crash the Boards
Men and women have distinctly different takes on “The
Rebound.” On the whole, women tend to stay away from a guy when
they think he may be in search of a rebound. Men, quite frankly,
don't give a shit. When males encounter a woman suffering the slings
and arrows of rejection, he can raise his Sword of Omens and call
upon the power of, “How could he not see how wonderfully unique you
are?”
Don't believe any of the rubbish you hear about how
“rebounds never work,” and “they don't help with moving on.” Anybody
who says that has never had a Friday night's worth of good “Uh, who
are you?” sex.
Step Three:
Drink…a Lot
It's a well known scientific fact (and by “scientific” I mean “big”
and by “fact” I mean “joke”) that alcohol is a stimulant that aids
in burning carbs. Used in careful conjunction with other
psychotropic drugs, alcohol can bring about an altered state of
consciousness that helps you forget that your boyfriend dumped your
ass for the younger, skinnier, and probably more flexible version of
you.
Think of Step Three this way: if you can't remember
your own name, it stands to reason that you won't be able to
remember his or her name, either. Applying this same logic also
means you won't know a urinal from a vending machine, so do exercise
some caution.
Step Four:
Hit the Grocery Store, then Drink, and then Eat
Chocolate
Scientists
have proven that “low fat” chocolate tastes like low fat shit. To
counter this unfortunate reality, drink plenty of “low carb, low
taste” beer until your taste buds become numb. Then gorge yourself
on low fat Oreos, Ben & Jerry's “Carmel Sutra Ice Cream” and Splenda
until Rosie O'Donnell herself says, “Whoa there, buddy.”
Eating constantly after a breakup is the easiest way for a guy to
show the world that he's the bigger man. Eating constantly after a
breakup is the easiest way for a girl to NEVER BE HOT AGAIN.
Step Five:
Listen to Ben Folds Five's “Song
for the Dumped,” Ani DiFranco's “Untouchable,” Ugly Kid Joe's “I
Hate Everything About You,” Eminem's “Puke,” and Cake's “I Will
Survive” (the original does not cut it)
The “fuck you” genre of music has
long been ignored by songwriters, but the above songs nailed it.
Music can definitely set the right mood, whether you're inspiring
yourself to attempt Step Two, grabbing your hefty bags and putting
on your astronaut diapers, or merely filling your chainsaw with
gasoline.
Please note the selection of Cake over
She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. Cake's version should ALWAYS be played
in lieu of hers. This is Man Law.
Step Six:
The Fear Factor (or, the Final Word)
Steps 1 through 5 should have cured you of Post-Relationship
Syndrome. However, no therapy is 100% effective.
If my
program does not work for you, and thoughts of revenge dominate your
mind, swallow your pride and call your now insignificant other and
say the magic words:
“I just thought I should tell you. I
just went to the doctor:
you've got the herp.”
And then hang up.
|
Share this article
|
