Ever have that ex who seemed to wish he was in Anonymous? Or at least seemed to suffer under the delusion that he was kind of a big deal?
Yeah. That’s sticking it to ’em.
Okay, so you know the old archetype of the artist and his muse? Well, who doesn’t secretly want to be a muse, really? I mean, when it comes down to it, wouldn’t it be pretty cool to inspire some hot, passionate person to create a work of art that reflects the awesomeness that is you? And all you have to do is sit there and be your fabulous self? Sign me up, right?
Or have you ever had that moment when you’re dating a musician and he plays you the new beautiful love song he’s written, and you think “Oh my gawd, this song is about me!” (a la the drunk girl from family guy)–until you get to the end of the song and it is, in fact, about a whiskey bottle?
Do you ever have that ex who thinks that just by the virtue that he made something, you would care? I mean, he’s feeling all these really deep feelings and expressing them and stuff, so it must be something that would interest you. And then this happens:
Congratulations, you wrote a story about yourself. Now here’s a hint: you’re not that interesting.
I know, I know, perhaps I’m not giving this one the benefit of the doubt. I mean, he tried and all. And clearly I’m all about that expressing yourself achieving catharsis garbage. But seriously? Seriously? You thought this would work?
Seems like when the moment comes and that song really is about you, 9 times out of 10 you would have been better off writing it yourself. Then at least it would be your crappy song.
Certain things just don’t ring well in the bedroom.
I’m going to say chances are, she did know. Chances are, she agreed with him. But perhaps that was something better discussed over tea. . . or at least breakfast.
In honor of flying back home to NYC today:
Really? Please. Just please.
In other news, this is the first TMXS update I’ve posted from an airport! And boy do I feel important, doing business on the go. On the fly? On the wing? I’m giddy with options! Or perhaps that’s just sleep deprivation. Anyways, home I go, and thankfully not to this guy.
Today I’d like to ask this question: what is a modern relationship? It’s pretty clear what it meant to this guy:
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But is there really something worth being called a “modern relationship”? Are relationships so different today that they deserve this title? Or are we only having the same relationships we’ve always had, in a modern setting?
I’d like to think a truly “modern relationship” is ideally post-feminist one, where lovers are partners in a truer sense of the word than ever before. But you can’t read the news or watch TV without knowing that post-feminism isn’t remotely close to where we’ve arrived, as a people. But it makes me sad to think, that to some people, the idea of modernity and fidelity are not only set apart from each other, but possibly even opposites. Or is it possible, in this day of statuses and tweeting and “liking” as a button rather than a feeling, that the offender above meant a modern relationship was one that lacked any interpersonal investment at all?
But really, all of this begs the question to me: if that is a modern relationship, what the hell is post-modern relationship? Cave-man-esque scenes are brought to mind. Or is that love with robots?
There are certain things you just don’t want to hear when you’re cuddling. At the beach.
In other news, ThingsMyExSaid is 2 months old! Cheers to the over 4,000 visitors who’ve checked us out since Valentine’s Day! Keep on sending in your submissions, and we’ll keep on posting!
Okay, so it’s not my soulmate. But I did find a new hummus this weekend that is to die for. Enough about me.
Found a new booty call? Slept together 4 days ago? This is one of those things you don’t want to hear him to say.
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Translation: “Our connection” = “I’d still really like to keep having sex with you.”
Okay, so this isn’t a quote from somebody’s ex. But as I was matching some more 4-star quotes to comic strips this morning, I came across this:
From the 1950s comic strip Dream of Love, we see that yes, fat girls too can dream of love. Even in Hollywood! And don’t even let me get started on Dr. Anthony King, Hollywood Psychiatrist! Although, not gonna lie… “Hollywood Psychiatrist” would look almost as cool on a business card as “Doctor Cop”. I thought this comic was more than offensive enough on its own, so rather than pair it with a quote, I thought I’d let it stand alone on this special Saturday TMXS post!
It’s April Fool’s Day! So we thought you’d enjoy seeing one of the more foolish first-date quotes we’ve had submitted. When an attempt at a compliment goes very, very wrong…
We give extra points for her sassy comeback line!
thingsmyexsaid 