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In This Issue

• Lessons of a Dancer’s Life
• Fast Times at Our Lady of Mercy Elementary
• Gulati Talks Soccer, Economics, and His Evil Alter Ego Zubil Dubabi
• Bleeding Candy Sweethearts
• 79 Ways To Fix Your Iraq
• 10-Year-Old Reviews IMDb’s Top Ten Movies of All Time
• A Good London Drinker Thinks How to Drink Hers
• Tales of the Inexpressible: Kinematics
• Cupid as a Young Teen
• Unadvised, Advising the Unadvisable
• Tales of the Inexpressible: Bless Your Heart
• On the Web, No One Knows You’re a Scientist
• Go Ask Alice!
• The Big News from the Big Town: Hollywood!
• The BWOG
• Bored at Butler
• THEY Watch

Sarah Levin

"Baby, there's something I need to tell you..."

Ah, Valentine’s Day. Although it has a special place in the hearts of those lucky few that are happily in love, most of us loathe the day, when Hallmark, television, and all those jerks making out on the subway remind us just how much our own lives suck. Why do they suck? The first and most obvious reason is the fact that many of us have nobody with whom to share the holiday, aside from our good buddies Ben, Jerry, and Jack Daniels. This isn’t necessarily the worst situation, however. Some might argue that they have it worse. These unlucky souls have realized far too late that their relationship blows and they don’t want to share jack shit with their significant other—not even their iTunes library, much less a whole, romantic day. First of all, I would like to extend a hearty “Fuck you” from us first-problemers to those in the latter group; at least you’re getting laid.

Your predicament, however, is an interesting one. What are you supposed to do if you realize pre–V-Day that you hate your significant other with every fiber of your being? What if that hatred is so extreme that no amount of repetitive, mediocre sex can counteract your feelings? Well obviously, you aren’t going to want to spend any amount of money on this person. The only other option is to abandon ship. I know, I know, “easier said than done,” you all say. “My boyfriend/girlfriend/coke dealer/large domesticated animal is so clingy and loves me so much that he/she/Pablo Escobar/Muffy just will not allow me to do so.” Well, I have some suggestions for these atypical breakups. Sometimes it’s harder than “It’s not me, it’s you.” Sometimes real measures must be taken to get that scumbag out of your life.

#1. Fake a terminal illness. If you tearfully explain that your severe case of frat life–induced liver cirrhosis has left you with only a few short months to live, your deadweight lover will definitely understand your need to play the field. The one caveat is that you will eventually need to fake your own death. Or at least move. Oh, the things we do for love.

#2. Roofie your loved one’s roommate or family member at a time when you know your sweetie is on his/her way home. As soon as the new object of your affection passes out, go crazy! When your baby walks in the door, it’s an almost surefire break up. If, on the other hand, they excitedly join in, you have no choice but to stay with them. Obviously the bitch is nuts. Do you really want to incite anger in someone who would date rape her own roommate?

#3. Take a vow of celibacy. Convince your lover you have decided to join the Mayan priesthood. Tell him/her this over dinner, to which you should arrive wearing only a loincloth and face paint. Bring a dead goose for your post-supper animal sacrifice. If your significant other still refuses to leave you, explain that you need alone-time for your spiritual awakening and three hours of daily, ritual masturbation.

#4. Fake a seizure in a fancy restaurant. When the chefs, servers, and hosts frantically come to your aid, sit up with a big smile and yell, “You’ve just been punk’d! Awwwwww shit. Whatup, Ashton!” There’s no way you’ll ever be allowed back in your lover’s bed… or the restaurant, so don’t do it in the place that has your favorite manicotti.

#5. With the aid of a skilled movie make-up artist, give yourself a horrendous case of genital warts. When asked where it was contracted, say something vague about the previous week’s trip to the zoo. Make sure your sweetie doesn’t have any hot friends, though. After this one, there is no way they’ll ever get with you either.