Ex-boyfriends on Facebook? Part Deux

I often wonder what happened to some of my ex-boyfriends.

Oh no, it’s not like THAT, mind you. (When I mean what HAPPENED to them it isn’t as if something bad had to happen to them.) They haven’t wandered off, accidentally tripping the light fantastically over some warbled log in Sea World and drowned, or gotten themselves snaky-snarky snarled and entrapped in a vicious knot of rope, hanging themselves frightfully off some tree, or found themselves tossed tangibly off a torrid cliff…or at least I hope not!

I mean just because I like to read murder mysteries and I like to write murder mysteries doesn’t mean that I would…well you know what I mean!

Of course sometimes I wonder about what happened to some of them when I am completely sloshed out of my fucking mind and have lost nearly all of my senses.

Or I might fantasize about what has happened to some of them…you know, the Bad Egg Ones, or the Bad Apple Ones. There’s always a few Nasty Ass Ones in every heap.

Example: Scotty Steenkerhouse slinked slimily away with sultry-wanna-be Chyllanna Chickonneleggs but got spammed to death by a supersized sea urchin squirting its majestic slime while scrumptiously showing off for a flock of female sea urchins.

But most of the time I wonder about them when I actually hear from one of them, usually through a “Friend Invite” on Facebook.

Facebook. It’s like some weird virtual world, such a pseudo-nonsensical online world, so much vastly and exorbitantly different from the offline real world. In a way, it’s better, having this online world with respect to ex-boyfriends because I don’t have to actually see the ex-boyfriends. But I can still be friends with them, which is just fine.

(I don’t have anything against most of my exes and I like to remain friends with most of them. I just honestly do not want to hang out with them too often. I’ve got a very nice boyfriend now, thank you very much.)

So, yes, sometimes I wonder what happened to some of my ex-boyfriends.

And so it was that I recently got a “Friend Invite” on Facebook by one of them the other day. I was like, OMG OMG OMG! WTF WTF WTF!

And I was like:

ARGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I was Mortified. In the Abyss of Ex-Boyfriend Land, THIS one is one of the very worst!

It was the one who dumped me cruelly in a bar, and left me there, to rot. And fester. And torridly anguish the rest of the night away. Drunk, of course.

If you want further explanation on THAT horrid breakup, see my very first post in this blog about it, where NOT, (the initials of a guy named Neville Ormonde Thornbridge) dumps Jacy in the same manner as my dumping.

It’s the opening scene in my chick lit novel.

It begins in a beastly bar, with a bad beleaguered breakup.

Blimey.

This ex-boyfriend of mine who tried to “Friend” me is supercilious, superficial, mean, and nasty. Among other evil warbly-warfled horrid things. And what’s sad is that he’ll probably try to run for President someday. He reminds me of George W. Bush in a way. I wonder if W. ever left any of his girlfriends at the bar, told her it was over, told her she needed to get her own ride home, told her he was now with the new blonde girl (who has chicken legs) over at the bar ordering shots (Jagermeister) for them and all their snooty law school student friends.

Superficial is an important word here. It implies that someone can possibly be hiding something, doesn’t it? Okay, so let us explore the possibilities of what this ex-boyfriend of mine who tried to “Friend” me is hiding:

If you slaughtered open this ex-boyfriend of mine, possibly with a barber’s blade from Sweeney Todd, there would POP OUT two nonsensical organisms who’d be diddly-ass black-hole drunk:

1.The first one being a 90 year-old has-been bloated blow-hard Disco Duck who still thinks he can dance and

2. The second one being a 90 year-old ex-coke dealer wearing a bright maroon pimp-daddy leather jacket scattered with cigarette burnt holes.

Both the duck and the dealer would have stained yellowed teeth and grisly muck-house green polka-dots for eyes, one of each pair being a wandering wormy eye along with milky white residue swimming out the sides of the eyeballs, dripping endlessly down into hell.

Ugh!

If you recall those idiot guys in high school who namedrop and butt-plan their life out - social climbers that they are - who date debutantes and have rich parents and who get everything they want and then stumble on to college (somehow with their drunken-addled low GPA) and join just the right fraternity (because they don't mind paying for their "friends") and wind up living in an uninspiring unoriginal house in suburbia and love and live for corporate America and love and live for money, then you have pegged my snooty ex-boyfriend.

He does not deserve my offline virtual-world friendship on Facebook, or in any world for that matter. And I don’t want him snooping into my life or my universe or my world. I will not even throw him one copious carefully-laden crumb. Or even a dog-eared bone.

If you think I am exaggerating about any of this, his horridness, like I said, please read my Very First Post of this blog o’ mine.

So yup, he tried to “Friend” me on Facebook.

Did you know that right after you select IGNORE to someone’s Friend Request that you can then BLOCK them? Cool! I love Facebook! It rocks!