I know you think it’s so great that you own a BMW but let’s face it: You live in Queens with your family! I mean, sure they’re upstairs but that’s not exactly what I call cutting the umbilical cord. I’m more embarrassed to admit that I slept with you on more than one occasion in your “apartment” with them directly above us. EW!
Plus you don’t do dishes (hello?) and I was always disturbed that you don’t actually wash your own gym-clothes and leave them for your mom!
Look, you have time to work out every day? You have time to go for that Back-Street Boys haircut on steroids every day? You have time to drench yourself in Polo cologne and go out to the clubs? You certainly seemed to have to have enough tolerance to alcohol and money to blow that you bought me drinks all night. I’ll admit it, you’re cute; not hot, but cute. You’ve got muscles in your back and when you want to be you’re actually pretty funny.
The thing is, when you brought me back from Manhattan to Queens the first time, I thought “Oh, how cute! I’ve got a little Queens-boy who’s a sweetheart and drives a Beamer!” Then, I found out that the only way you’re able to do that was by mooching off of your family, who you treat like dirt.
It’s already over. I guess I shouldn’t have come back more than once, but I thought it could work until I figured out that you were kicking it to someone else at the club where we met. It’s the same club that you go to EVERY TIME! You know- the one where they sell gum, hairspray, and mouthwash where you pee and you leave money for people to watch you urinate and hand you a towel! What did you think? That I wouldn’t find out? You self-admittedly hardly graduated from high school and, to be totally honest, I sometimes wondered whether you were fully literate based on your actions… You’re so fucking dumb.
So you tried making out with C only two days after you asked me to be your girlfriend! I saw you and C and W called me immediately. You even lied about where you were when I texted you and ignored my calls! You’re a such a pussy! Grow up!
When I confronted you in person about it the next day, you were such a douche that I realized why I don’t date people from your borough (once again). But just in case the new girl you’re seeing happens to read this (and for the rest of the world who can read): You have a really small penis. If 5 inches is average… Whatever. She’ll find out soon enough.
Stick to petite girls,