Pantshitting Douchebags and the Women Who Date Them

So, the blogger known as Kosmo left an exceptionally well-put comment yesterday.

Why, indeed, did I date Fat Weekly (maybe Fat Trimester, Fat Biannual? Fat Perennial . . no, that's a flower . . . is funnier . .. you guys tell me) for over a year?

I was in severe rebound mode. Unbeknownst to me, I was craving someone who was the antithesis of my boyfriend before him. I hereby decree that one of the not-so-healthy stages of post-breakup-stress-disorder should be:

WILL DATE ANYONE, INCLUDING DOUCHEBAG, IN ATTEMPT TO GET OVER EX.

A friend of mine suggested this is akin to Duckling Syndrome. Not to be confused with Ugly Ducklings. Although, not unrelated. Apparently, when ducklings first pop out or whatever, the first clearly adult thing they lay eyes on, they will love, follow and obey. In a perfect world, this would be Momma Duck; however, although I began dating Fat Trimester many months after breaking up with my ex, I'd originally laid eyes on Fat Weekly not long after the initial breakup. Hence, I fell prey to Duckling Syndrome.

Back to my original theory, the Theory of Antithesis. Fat Annual was, well . . . fat, unfunny, shockingly hairy (read: Caveman. If backhair could be wings, he could fly), bald, uncouth and rude to my friends. Oh, and rather ugly as well. And lacked basic necessities such as tact, common sense and proper hygiene. And he capitalized his "r"s. That always pissed me off.