Monday, February 1, 2010

facebook holy lol

Holy crap, I logged into facebook the other morning; and well, as you can see below, I found something awesome.

Take a look at the picture below, and think about what you see.














Hahahahaha
, yes, I am a fan of Dear Prudence. But that's not what we're rofling about. In case you didn't know, Prudence is just some lady that writes an advice column. Sometimes I spend entire afternoons at work just reading everything she writes. That would be a sweet job, writing an advice column.

Naturally I clicked the link, cause with a title like "How can I stop abusing my girlfriends?" - I had to read more:

Dear Prudence,
I am in my early 20s and was recently dumped by my long-term girlfriend. This shocked me because of how in love with me this girl seemed to be and because of the revelations it brought about. Even though 90 percent of our relationship seemed blissfully happy, the remaining 10 percent was miserable because I was extremely verbally abusive to her and gradually restricted her social world because of my jealousy.

I insisted she avoid contact with guys she had slept with (and I promised to do the same with my previous partners); I used her romantic past to make her feel awful when she wanted to spend time with friends at places where her past flings would be; I held the fact that she'd had casual sexual partners against her. At the time, I thought I was a good guy who simply held his girlfriend to the same standards he imposed on himself. I did the same thing in my previous relationship. Now it's painfully obvious what a monster I was.

I've pored over self-help books and tried to make sure I do not revert to being this horrible person, but I always do. Now I am in a fresh relationship with a girl—we've fallen quickly for each other—and I'm keeping quiet about my discomfort that she's friends with guys she has slept with. But I know something will eventually slip through the cracks. I'm sure a therapist would help, but I'm an in-debt college student and can't afford it. Is there anything I can do to avoid ending up the monster that I seem destined to become?

My first thought was, damn, dude sounds like a psychopath. Jeez, when I saw the word "abuse", I'm totally thinking like abusing bitches, with like your fists 'n shit.

But then my brain connected with what I had just read. And nowhere did it say he cuffed that muff right up. There was nothing about laying a smackdown on this chick. Nary a mention of her getting all Rihanna'd.

But seriously, verbal abuse though? Please. Verbal abuse is for pussies. Go big or go home, that's what I say. Anyway, no matter what your definition of inter-spouse abuse may be, the dude wrote a letter, my girl Prudie answered it, and here we are.

Prudie's response is quite long winded as she gets on her pedestal, and tries to act better than him. So I'll save you the pain of having to read the entire thing (sorry, the cry for help was kinda long too). It's funny, Prudie blames him multiple times; and then she tries to make him feel bad.

It's like she's baiting him, no - it's like she's daring him, to take it to the next level. Prudie just double-dog-dared this dude to have an existential meltdown. Come on Prudie, you're gonna cause even more trouble. Imagine this dude reads YOUR response, freaks out, and goes on a verbal abuse rampage.

Oh no, what if he gets on his bike on a busy Saturday afternoon downtown, and just starts verbally abusing everybody he sees? What if he's biking around furiously, slinging insults at anybody within earshot?

"Mr Johnson, your kids are ugly, and one of them probably isn't even yours!"

"Hey Dr. Williamson, remember those meds you prescribed me for my ulcer? Well, I fed 'em to my cat, and it made her lose all her hair. Fuck you, doctor asshole!"

"Billy, Stephen, & Rodney, your parents hate you; there is no Santa Clause; and I'm the tooth fairy, you little shits."

"Hey Anne & Barry, I know you go to couples' therapy, and I can't stop laughing myself to sleep over it every night! You retards!"

"Little Johnny, come 'ere! Remember that time I gave you $20 to mow my lawn? Well I stole that from your parents, the time I was on a 3 day coke bender and broke into your house while you were on vacation! Hahaha pwned!"

Oh god, the horror. The blood is on your hands, Prudie.

Also, lol @ this

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