In Which We Let You Down Easy

50 Merciful Ways To Dump Someone

by ELLEN COPPERFIELD

50. "Magnum P.I. did not refer to a magnum condom. We are done."

49. Have him find some pro-Hitler material in your purse

48. coat your entire body with toothpaste before falling asleep

47. "I've been letting you win at facebook scrabble for the last seventeen games"

46. "Sometimes I wish you were half-Asian" if that doesn't work, up the percentage of Asian

45. During sex, discuss the time you cupped Malcolm Gladwell's androgynous genitalia

44. Suggest that he is Bon Iver and you are Emma and that the whole album may have been a time-travel singularity

43. 'No actually meant no this time'

42. Force him to view Meatloaf's 'I Would Do Anything For Love (But I Won't Do That)" and ask him what that is with tragic results

41. Demand payment for services rendered

40. Draw a very irreverent parody of Blondie in which he plays Dagwood

39. When you kiss, jam your thumb into his anus

38. Tell him that you were an ardent fan of the Bush administration

37. Start saying "jeepers creepers" a lot, like five or six times within a ten minute period

36. Get heavily into doing magic at children's birthday parties

35. Start playing acoustic guitar

34. Live with him in his condo for awhile but don't have sex with him

33. Have him come up on you while you're watching The Passion of the Christ and hurriedly turn it off when he sees you

32. Stay mute for three weeks - they usually notice by that third week

31. "Derek Jeter's penis has deep grooves like the head of a screwdriver"

30. Swallow pocket change

29. Ask him to say grace before you eat popcorn at the movies

28. Tell him you have relationship-related amnesia. 'Who are you again?'

bella and jacob fan art27. Roleplay Edward and Bella and make him be Bella

26. Asbestos still kills

25. The Darjeeling Limited changed your life and you're off to be Anjelica Huston basically

24. A lot of craft projects, especially mucho origami, enters your life

23. Propose

22. Replace the idea of showering with the idea of bathing while crying

21. Call raspberries 'snozzberries' and wink slyly whenever you do

20. Point at him a lot with a mimed gun and whisper 'pow'

19. In the place of the part of his talking when you're supposed to nod and smile, be quietly cutting yourself with a kitchen knife

18. Bring the joy of Big League Chew into your lovemaking

17. Refer to your pubic hair as the forest of your tears

16. Suggest matching tattoos of a butterfly and change your mind to Boy George at the last second

15. Tell him you didn't see the point of the Panda Bear solo album

14. Start calling your shits churchills

13. Throw the phrase vox populi into casual conversation

12. Early one morning, he finds you reciting the Tom Cruise from Jerry Maguire to a sock puppet

11. Demand payment for services rendered and after he pays put out your hand and demand a sizeable tip

10. "I don’t feel we necessarily like the same kinds of sandwiches"

8. "Your mother reminds me of Ellen Cleghorne"

7. Go over to the Dark Side of the Force

6. When appropriate: ‘I don’t like Dispatch as much as I may have pretended I did’

5. If casual mention of pubic hair as forest of tears doesn't end things, try working it in the conversation another way: "Could you try not to rub your beard up against my forest of tears?"

4. Replace oral sex with Mario Kart

3. Discuss the tidy sum of money you reaped when they turned your life story into Orphan

2. Hide the sentiment in a piece of lyric bread

1. "I used to think you read the whole internet, but now I feel like you only read part of it"

Ellen Copperfield is a contributor to This Recording. She tumbls here.

"I Admire You So Much" — Rivers Cuomo (mp3)

"Cold and Damp" - Rivers Cuomo (mp3)

"My Day Is Coming" - Rivers Cuomo (mp3)

In Which It's As Simple As Closing Your Eyes

First Kiss

by GEORGIA HARDSTARK

You walked me to my car. We were both drunk and had pizza breath. I was very excited. I swatted your hand away when it crept towards my breast, as I didn't want you thinking I was that kinda girl.

I had just picked you up at the airport. You kissed me while we were in the drive-thru line at Carl's Jr. not 30 minutes after we met. I remember wishing you had waited until we got to The Roost. Carl's Jr. is no place for first kisses.

After I said "you should probably kiss me now" while we were parked in my driveway.

Following a long bike ride through the abandoned streets of Silver Lake. We ate sandwiches on freshly baked bread and watched old men play chess before riding home just as the sun was coming up. We crawled into bed beside my red-haired friend, who was sleeping soundly. We had just met that night, and I found you absolutely thrilling.

You grabbed me by the collar, like bullies do to nerds in 80's movies, and kissed me roughly. I liked it. I've stolen that move, by the way. I don't think about you when I use it.

We were standing in your bedroom, which looked out over the lake that I had spent every summer of my life either on a rented paddle boat or casting a line from a rusting fishing rod into. I can't think of that day without the song "Ted Just Admit It" by Jane's Addiction getting stuck in my head.

In the middle of watching The Jerk. It was soft and lovely.

After my very first ride on the back of a scooter. We were standing on the side of the Pacific Coast Highway, listening to the waves crash, while your Vespa sat patiently waiting for its pilot. I realized with an arrow straight to the heart a couple months later that you were probably thinking about your girlfriend at the time.

After we drank a bucket of alcohol. I was hungover but happy the next day.

After a trip to the zoo. Your driving terrified me and your grasp of the English language was questionable...but goddamn, you were hot.

We were sitting in a wine bar and I had a glass of red clasped in my hand, which helped me to relax a little after our rigid first-date sushi dinner, so I was at ease when you slipped your arm around me and scooted closer to me in the booth. I turned my face towards you and you kissed me and I could feel your beard scratching against my face, and it was pretty perfect. I think we both know we’re not right for each other, and I’m really glad we’re friends, but god damn, all I can think of when I see you these days is how effing good you look now that you’ve shaved your beard.

You walked me to my car after a party. I knew you had a thing for me, and after that evening I could have had a thing for you too. That’s why I let you kiss me when we got to my car. You can imagine my surprise, then, when I found out about your girlfriend the next day, after I told a mutual friend about the kiss. I know you think I’m an asshole for blowing you off after that night, but I think you’re an asshole for kissing someone who isn’t your girlfriend, so we’re even.

You showed up to our date thirty minutes late and high as a kite. I forgave you because you had had some unfortunate incidents during the past month. I did have a really nice time, though. I think that’s partly because I knew there wouldn’t be a second date, so I didn’t feel any pressure. I could tell you were smitten with me. I was secretly cursing the fact that I couldn’t be this charming around the dude who had blown me off a week prior. I leaned in and kissed you while we were eating pizza on Hollywood Blvd. My life had never felt more like a romantic comedy, but I’m still not sure which one of us is the protagonist.

I was leaning in the doorway between the dining room and living room of your apartment while you put on a record. Had there been an earthquake at that moment, I wouldn’t have had to move from the safety of that doorway. Instead, though, you leaned down and kissed me. What we lacked in passionate conversation, mostly due to my baffling nervousness around you, we made up for with that make-out session. Even though it didn’t work out, you have to admit, for an all-clothes-kept-on sesh, it was pretty fucking fantastic.

I wish you had kissed me somewhere other than in your car, when you dropped me off at my house that night. Although, it was a passionate and butterfly-inducing enough kiss that I took back my decision not to go on another date with you. Unfortunately that only lasted for one more date. I’m still regretting that decision a little, if it makes you feel any better. You’re a charming guy with a heart of gold. But no. You live in Long Beach. It would never work.

Georgia Hardstark is the contributing editor to This Recording. She blogs here and tumbls here.

"Slay!" — McLusky (mp3)

"Icarus Smicarus" — McLusky (mp3)

"Your Children Are Waiting For You To Die" — McLusky (mp3)

"Kkkitchens, What Were You Thinking?" — McLusky (mp3)

"You Should Be Ashamed, Seamus" — McLusky (mp3)

In Which We're Really Glad You Have A Boyfriend

Hey Girl

by ALMIE ROSE

We need to talk about your boyfriend.

So you have a boyfriend. That's great! You have someone's lap to sit on at picnics. You have someone to take to your friend's party. You don't need to scout out guys at said party. Because you'll be holding your boyfriend's arm, tracing his veins with your fingertip, something all couples wind up doing without realizing it. You have someone to force into that couples costume for Halloween. You have someone all of your friends can look at and think, "Goddamn I'm jealous." And that's great!

But girl unless your boyfriend is Captain Kirk, he ain't going anywhere. You don't need to spend every waking moment together. Or every sleeping moment either. And all of those cosmic moments in between. He's always going to be there for you, and if he's not, then he's not a very good boyfriend and you should *NSYNC his ass (and I don't know what this even means — am I referring to their hit "Bye Bye Bye" or their break-up or what? I don't know guys, that's the beauty of life!).

I understand that in the beginning you're going to be Lady Gaga for each other and that's really great. It's an exciting time.

But girl.

Girl.

Unless your boyfriend is Warren Beatty, from the above photo, from that exact era, I need to tell you something: He's Not That Great.

Is this pure jealousy speaking? In some occasions, yes (see "Unless your boyfriend is Warren Beatty..." above). But most of the time, your boyfriend is going to be just like everybody else's boyfriend. He'll be there for you, yes, but will he be there for us? No, and that's not his job. Your job, however, is to be there for us. Because you're our friend. Not a Phoebe friend, because that woman was a goddamn bitch on the show Friends who acted like she was from goddamn outerspace, and was mean to Ross for no goddamn reason — I'm talking about real friendships, the kind that cannot fit into a Thursday night time slot. Why are my references so 90s? But that's not important right now.

All I'm saying is that he wasn't there for you the way we were. Listen to me, Mrs. Potts, it's great that you found another enchanted piece of furniture to sing with or whatever, but we're wandering the castle and our options are the Gastons and Beasts of the world, before the Beast became totally rad and acceptable, and we have no dancing candlesticks to tide us over.

But girl. Girl.

It's time to come back. It's time to return my calls. It's time to return my e-mails. It's time to realize that your friend is coming dangerously close to becoming a stalker. It's time to return my DVDs, it's been like, two years.

What is important is that you stop and realize that girl, we've known you long before this dude did, unless you have some kind of Dawson/Joey situation. We were there for you when you got your period on your pants in 8th grade and we loaned you our sweatshirt for you to tie around your waist. We were there for you when you first got drunk on cheap rum and we talked to you as you were barfing in the bathroom. We were there for you when you were in college and wondered, "What the hell am I going to do when I graduate"?

And where was he?

Just remember. It's fine to be excited about your boyfriend, and we're happy for you, but we need you too.

It's been a few months now. You've been under the shroud of coupledom for a little too long. You've disappeared. We're starting to worry. We're hearing Robert Stack in our head. He's saying, "Everything was fine...until it wasn't." He's staring into our soul and he's adding, "That was the last time anyone had heard from her."

Look. I was in a serious relationship once. It was really great, I heard Sixpence None The Richer wherever I went, I always had a date to parties, life was one big pizza party. I will fully own up to the fact that I disappeared for a couple of weeks. I think a two-week grace period is allowed. During two weeks we can all shake our heads like 1950s sitcom dads and say, "Oh that Mrs. Potts and her boyfriend!" But after two weeks we start to turn more into Don Draper; pissed off, impatient, and trying to find another pretty girl to take your place. Then we feel guilty for thinking this way, wondering if perhaps its our own jealousy that is making us so callous. Then we realize that, no, it takes like two seconds to send a text of, 'Hey sorry I've been MIA let's meet next week!' and we're annoyed again.

And girl. Girl.

Your boyfriend ain't James Dean. Nor is he James Franco pretending to be James Dean, which would be the next best thing. But James Dean is dead and James Franco isn't James Dean and your boyfriend isn't either of those and if this shocks or upsets you, then I'm sorry.

SO TEXT ME GODDAMNIT.

Almie Rose is a contributor to This Recording. She is the creator of Apocalypstick, and she last wrote in these pages about (500) Days of Summer.

"The Sea Horse" — Yo La Tengo (mp3)

"From A Motel 6" — Yo La Tengo (mp3)

"The Love Life of The Octopus" — Yo La Tengo (mp3)