Stories of the love gone bad lovestinks
The Stories...
girl of my dreams dumped me! 
dumped through a text message. 
crazy brits 
dumped by a huge loser 
unbelievable: he broke up with me! 
what are the odds? 
 
i was dumper and dumpee 
dumped on national tv 
dumped by a loser 
pretty girl 
summertime math girl 
a david lynchy kind of love 
 
why valentine's day shouldn’t exist 
potato boy rejection 
loser 
pee on leg 
my semi-formally formal 
dangling in the tournifouria 
 
dumped on new years by finacee 
dumped by his fiancee 
intruder alert 
mrs. robot would not go out with me 
double dump 
love me back. 
 
rat bastard asshole 
worst road trip ever 
she came in through the balcony window 
bank farm bag 
rhapsody in black and blue 
tea time 
 
friends hold hands 
what are you trying to say? 
go back to montana 
technically 
regret! regret! 
i'll have that sex to go... 
 
no, you can't have any of my fries 
but i got a boner for you in the maimi 
kissing my mom 
the famous blue raincoat 
007 the hard way 
i should gotten a clue? 
 
moss mouth 
rollerskating party 
right this way sir 
boob 
orangina 
two bad 
 
not my flannel sheets! 
down boy! down! 
ally mcbeal 
the road less traveled by 
fetal position 
oooo, soundtracks 
 
soundtracks for dumpees 
what's so damn funny? 
he lived in his parents' garage 
yellow shoes 
give me book! i will read it! 
poo boy. 
 
you don't have to go home but you can't stay here 
todd synagogue 
mrs flynt's heartbreak class 
computer held hostage 
don't leave / do leave 
Love Stinks. Sometimes we get dumped.
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Mrs. Robot would not go out with me
by :r
I mean, in a way, I don’t blame her. First there was the fact that I was a smirking jerk to her years earlier. Then there was the fact that her roommate was my ex-girlfriend. And her next-door neighbor was also an ex-girlfriend.
I mean, I am not some sort of lady-killer, I just seem to have crappy luck with the placements of ex-girlfriends.

I had been hanging out with her more and more after I had become single, and found myself being attracted to her low-drama personality and cute-ness. Late one night after a party we are sitting in her place and I am all like, “let’s make out” and she is like, “no way”.
We leave the house for whatever reason (her thinking the cool night air might slow down my amorous advances?) and end up on the stairs of the Handy-Pantry. Now, to the 3 native New Yorkers out there, Handy-Pantry is a type of “Convenience Store”, which is like a deli or bodega, but they can be free standing buildings and usually also have a gas station built in (yea, nutty, isn’t it?).
The ‘Pantry’ is open 24 hours a day. Our friend Evan worked there in college, and I would love him to sit down one day and write out a series of “People who came into the Handy Pantry” stories.

So, we sat out there on the steps. Let’s see, I was 21. She was 20. I was like, “Come on”, and she was still like, “no way”.
Negotiations went on throughout the night – but failed to produce an agreement of any kind. Well, no, she agreed not to go out with me.

We left and went to our own homes.
So, being a jerk and all, I decided to try to go out with someone else. My make-out line worked on a nice girl who I had been friends with for a while. She was real sweet, but I think subconsciously I went out with her to make Mrs. Robot jealous.

Wait. Before I go any farther, let me say this: if you are single, try the ol’ “Do you wanna go make out somewhere” line. I swear that works.
Try it.
I wish I could tell 1988 me to use that more often.

Jealousy or whatever it was worked, though. A month later, Mrs. Robot and I found ourselves in a situation, that, um, allowed making out. And we did.
The dump part comes now: I had to dump the poor girl who had become some sort of love patsy in our courtship.
It was very sad and still haunts me to this day. I knew I would see her after my first class, and was dreading it. I basically came up to her and was like, “I can’t see you anymore”

I think I then turned and walked away.
It was cold. It was heartless.
It haunts me to this day that a person can be like that… or more precisely I could be like that.
(she speaks to me now. She and her boyfriend sent us a wedding gift even.)











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