You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘jilted’ tag.

I know I was jilted because of my freckles, at least once.
Two, maybe four, times for my hair.
They always said they liked short girls but when you’re trying to get laid, that’s probably the thing to say.

Let me reiterate. Air Force John was a douche. His hobbies included cuddling, talking about a possible mental breakdown, and watching Wifeswap. I give him respect for getting drunk with a priest.

Any insecurity you have is the exact
reason you’ve been jilted.
Trust me, it was the gargantuan zit you had on your face that killed it
for him.

This other guy, he fished all day and called himself self-employed. He lived off his father and got fat. His picture was super old, which led to unbearable disappointment. His hobbies included swatting away giant roaches that were on the booth I was sitting in and spouting on endlessly about his political viewpoints, which were not favorable to Hil (I set him straight).

Seriously, don’t make excuses for him.
It’s all you.

One guy was a decent date aside from his gaunt appearance and bulging bug eyes. I’m not sure what his hobbies were because the two times I saw him, I kept thinking of words that rhymed with his last name (Ooouly). I didn’t come up with anything. Another guy ate a raw steak he did not want (spent the whole dinner grimacing and choking it down despite my helpful suggestion that he could send the plate back), ate all foods with his hands, and got hammered enough that I drove myself home in his car. I didn’t want to know what his hobbies were, but clearly he was breaking up with me in the form of my breaking up with him.

It never matters who’s actually done the jilting.
It’s your terrible foot odor and your misaligned posture that did it in.
You’re not graceful, as evidenced in your many, many injuries resulting
from painful, full-scale fall-downs.
This is all your fault.

I felt trapped in a parking lot downtown after a so-so dinner with this one dude. Nice, but no thanks. His hobbies included sticking his cold dead fish tongue down my throat and not anticipating that when kissing a girl, you should keep in mind that her mouth is not the size of a horse’s. Don’t worry. For his efforts, I bit him.

All of which bring us back you (and me).
I support the anti-bullshit; you’re not that pretty.
If you think you are satisfied in your relationship, I suggest looking at
the cellulite in your thighs one more time.
It could be the end.

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