Stupid Friends, Smart Enemies

Title: Stupid Friends, Smart Enemies

“Why’d He Break Up With Me?” – Because you’re a slut.

“Can I Borrow Fifty Bucks?” – Burn in hell.

****They’re in your Top 8 on Myspace, getting wasted in your basement, wearing you favorite pair of jeans – AKA your closest friends.

You also hate them. Ok, we all have our annoying quirks (won’t touch the bathroom door, afraid of the dark, etc.); but when you encounter your friends faults way too often, you begin to resent them. This feeling is entirely normal, and usually will pass, but doesn’t it suck?

For example, stupid friends.

I don’t mean failing out of school stupid friends. I mean the common sense lacking stupid friends. There’s a few in every group. You learn to deal with their inability to process everyday tasks, but sometimes, it can get on one’s nerves.

Part I:

It’s 2 am and you’ve just gotten a phone call.

- the slut -

Her boyfriend of…maybe 6 weeks? has broken up with her. She’s babbling incoherent words of distress. As she cries about her permanently scared psyche, you have the urge to inform her that she was the one who cheated, lied, and ultimately planned on breaking up in the first place. The guy was just smart enough to catch on to her deception and ended things before she said the final word. You don’t tell her that, though, ‘cause, you know, that’d be siding with the enemy.

A few days later, she gets a new boyfriend (cycle repeat). She seems jealous when you have a relationship that lasts longer than 15 days. She claims she has no luck with guys, that they’re all creeps.

Would you have the courage to tell her the truth?

(I would enlighten said friend; but, honestly, watching relationships crash and burn is some sick form of voyeurism in vein of a train wreck)

Part II:

“Do these jeans make me look like an ATM machine?”

-The freeloader. -

Ok, so God may have thrown a thunderbolt down from heaven and ‘shazam!’ one-hundred & eighty dollar Badgley Mischka off-white flats called out for you; however, that does not mean one-hundred & eighty dollars needs to acquiesced from my wallet.

So you need fifteen bucks? Ok, fine. When you’re asking me for a ‘freakin mortgage, NO, my dear friend. If you want to life your life bumming off of others, join a commune for Abby Hoffman-esque ‘live for free, screw taxes’ hippies. I hear there’s a few out in San Francisco.

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I Lesson Learned: What does one thing Egypt and Sluts have in common? …Denial.

II Lesson Learned: Never lend money to friends, because they start to think it grows on trees and falls from the sky.