my boyfriend broke up with me yesterday but weβre still going to be friends.
my stomach hurts constantly and i canβt stop crying.
what do?
I feel you, girl! Awful situation all round. I'll do my utmost to ease your woes and help you once more feel affectionate and squiffy.
Either:
- Date a new bloke with a penis short enough to stop jabbing your fucking cervix every three seconds, or:
- Offer to circumcise your ex-Bloke and accidentally-on-purpose get a bit carried away.
Either will salve future tummy woes wonderfully.
Though if you only now attempt the latter? Hell, your tardiness is probably why your BF broke up with you. He's likely an incredibly recent convert to Judaism. Seems incredibly plausible to me that he's been thirsting to assert his overwhelming Jewishness to his new chums with a spectacular super-DUPER-circumcision, but squandered all his Spoons in the planning-and-propagandising process, leaving zilch for actually doing the deed by his own hand. Then he hoped you'd Step Up penisly, dropped a bazillion oafish hints instead of just communicating like an adult, and got shitty with you for not picking up on them.
Happens constantly. I see it all the time. Had he been sneaking mini guillotines into your apartment, perchance? Had he loudly declared a newfound love of extra-humongous cigars? Then immediately purchased the hobby's accompanying paraphernalia, i.e. super-deluxe cigar cutters? And waggled them in your face? Perhaps roaring "Dr. Mengele was generous enough to stockpile his beloved clients' foreskins, what a sweetheart, why can't you be more like him" into your slumbering face every 4am?
No? Yes? If you can't pick up on hints that blatant, geez, no wonder he dumped you. Come on, girl. Suppose your roles were reversed. Look me in the ass and tell me you wouldn't comport yourself in a similarly distinguished fashion.
That's your tummy troubles trounced. Now, your waterworks issues. Faceplant an opened rice sack, perhaps? Works wonders with me. Maybe a bit too wonderfully. Apparently I've got a bit of a reputation among the local Asian supermarkets. The last time I tried to sneak in at 3am and drown my own sorrows and frustrations re my own girlfriend declining to attack my pavilion-sized foreskin with a lightsabre, I discovered they'd put up barbed wire and posters around their rice vats saying GINGER SCRUFFY NOT WELCOME FIND YOUR OWN DAMN PSYCHOLOGIST LEAVE OUR RICE BE. Typical.