No Wait, It Is You

Sometimes you've got to face it's she's just not that into you, not that she's going to admit it mind.
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What I say: It’s not you it’s me

What I really mean: No, it’s definitely you, you’re really annoying and I can’t really be bothered. I've realised that actually I don’t think you’re as hot as I did when we first met and that those jumpers you wear with the little crocheted elbows make you look like you’ve been taking style tips from my Dad. You will probably tell your friends that I had some sort of a relationship “issue” but you should be aware that this won’t make your penis any bigger, the humiliation any less humiliating or your terrible fashion sense any better.

What I say: I’m seeing someone else

What I really mean: I’m probably not seeing someone else. I probably don’t even really fancy someone else or on the off chance that I actually do(sometimes I don’t lie completely) I haven’t told him and therefore it is kind of pointless to dump you for him. However,  I have imagined our wedding in my head and it’s AMAZING whereas my wedding to you was non-existant (also in my head but none the less not a good sign for you). On the plus side I usually only say this to people I actually care about offending, and if there is no greater consolation than having someone ‘care’ about you, yeah, hearing that would make me want to punch myself in the face too.

What I say: I’m gay

What we really mean: I basically hate you. I hate you so much that not only am I going to dump you but I’m going to make sure that for the rest of your life you will feel like a man who was so bad at being a man that you made a woman want to have sex with other women. Of course I can not speak for everybody here, some people who say this might actually be gay but then you’re in the even worse position of the aforementioned scenario being an actual reality. I know which one I’d prefer.

What I say: I’m thinking of moving to Cornwall/America/The Moon so I don’t think it would be a good idea to start something

What we really mean: Well who wouldn’t want to live in Cornwall/America or on the moon, well, maybe not that last one or actually any of them. I probably do have the aspiration but as for it becoming an actual reality, well, I only got 27p left of my overdraft so it’s probably not going to happen. This is a classic staler so that if I suddenly decide to fancy you again I can call off the move and call you up without you having been personally offended – not just a pretty face you know.

What I say: We’re just too different

What I really mean: We are different. I’m great and you’re not. I’m intelligent and you’re not. I have money and you don’t. I have a job and you sit around reading comics all day and not even the good ones. I smell nice and you smell like you haven’t washed for a week. I have loads of friends you only have Steve from the kebab shop and he doesn’t count as a friend if you only hang out when you’ve had 20 pints and fancy some donor meat on a Friday night.

So there you have it, the cold hard and ,having read it back, essentially quite bitchy truth. The moral of the story here boys: don’t date Olivia Foster.

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