Ex Ex Ex

I try to psych myself. I prepare my mind for my moving to New York. Today I found myself thinking of things that would make leaving Manila more bearable. My EXes garnered the top position on my list.

Oh my dear EXes, I’d love to write down all your names on stickers and use them as labels for my beauty products. So that every time I apply creams on my face, I’d be reminded that you, my dear EXes contributed to these dark circles under my eyes and these pores that are starting to grow the size of manholes.

I’m the type of guy who erase EXes from his life. I try to avoid all forms of contact and interaction with my EXes. No, this is not a sign of not being able to move on and neither is it a sign of bitterness. It’s just that for me, Exes are Exes for a reason. I don’t break up with someone not unless they end up being jerks.

For those who are not familiar with how gay relationships work, let me fill you in. Everything will happen in reverse. Sex usually comes first, then comes dating, then comes a relationship that usually lasts for a couple of hours to a couple of weeks. It is in the relationship phase where we decide whether we want to be in a relationship with that person or not. Breaks-ups and polygamy are as normal as having toast for breakfast. Theres no questioning the abundance of men who are jerks when it comes to relationships. Ergo, a relationship between two men most often have twice the amount of jerk as compared to a heterosexual relationship. And my EXes are perfect examples.

Lets take Mr. E as our first specimen, broke up with because the only thing more boring than a date with him is a date with him in bed. He has a manhood the size of a mushroom and sex with him is always an epic fail.

Mr. Breadstick. Broke up with him because he’s the type of person who’s never wrong. Don’t you just hate these men? Mr. Breadstick has an ego the size of his two front teeth, and when i say this, I mean something colossal. Why Mr. Breadstick you might ask. I was with my friends in an italian resto once and they served us these soggy breadsticks. I picked one up and started poking them with it. Sex with Mr. Breadstick is like having sex these breadsticks. He’s one tripod alright, limp as a 3 legged dog.

I also have Mr. CollegeDropOut. The immature EX. Dropped out of college, refused to find work, will never have a future. Broke up with him for these obvious reason, together with his annoying habit of talking during sex. I’m a firm believer that vocabulary during sex should be restricted to ooh’s, ah’s, yeah, yes and spank me’s. Conversations outside of these words should be considered as a sexual blunder.

Its really hard to find a decent man out there, but its harder to find a decent gay man. Gay people may be the most vain, self-centered and insecure people you may ever meet. I sincerely thank my EXes for making moving to New York a whole lot easier for me. You, my dear EXes, will be constant reminders of the part of my life hat I’d be glad to leave behind.