“White ball of flame”

best of manners

I knew it was over on our second date when he threw his legs over his shoulders and proudly lit a thunderous fart on fire with a lighter.


Aftermath: Ended shortly thereafter, for obvious reasons. The white ball of flame was impressive, though.

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best of manners

He kept climbing up on things. We’d go to a bar and he’d climb on the pool table or the bar or whatever else and perch on it. I think he thought it made him interesting, but it really just made him look like a tool.


Aftermath: He started wearing black eyeliner right around the same time I stopped returning his calls.

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“Three-pack-a-day voice”

manners sex

We were making out, and suddenly we had to stop. He looked over at me and said in that stupid, gruff, three-pack-a-day voice of his, “I wish we had more time—and a condom.” We had barely been dating three days.


Aftermath: I broke up with him probably two days later. (He sucked at kissing too.)

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“Is that the bad guy?”

best of manners

While watching the last “Lord of the Rings” movie, he spent the entire movie whispering to me like an old woman, “Who is that? What are they doing? Is that the bad guy? Where are they going now?“


Aftermath: This made it easy to pull the plug.

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“Prettied down”


I knew it was over when I got all gussied up and he told me I was dressed too nicely for the theater. I should put back on my t-shirt and jeans. Fuck that noise.


Aftermath: I packed a truck with all of my books and clothes and moved to Chicago the next day.

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