The Girl's Guide to Getting Over Really Bad Break-Ups

1. Drinks and Bloggings

"Stupid Brad, stupid F-f-f-lip (it's actually Philip but my drunk mind simply couldn't understand that), stupid Elizzza, stupid Jake, stupid Oiliverr," I slur as I stumble home, half empty bottle of Jack in one hand and my high heel shoe in the other. I stop walking momentarily and look around, suddenly confused as to where I was. "Well, this isn't my neighbourhood," I muse loudly, my voice echoing in the empty dark street. I giggle loudly as I ask my echo, "Where is your neighbourhood?" I cackle some more, "No! I asked you first!", "No you!", "No You!" and just when I'm about to burst into giggles because of how funny I am, a head pops out of the window of some house and screams, "Ay you! Shut up! We're trying to sleep here!"

My eyes widen and I quint, but it's no good. The guy looks good as blurry to me. It doesn't even help that I lost my contacts somewhere in the dirty bar toilet, so I'm as practically as blind as a bat. "Ay you! Why don't you shut up? I'm trying to have a conversation here!" I shout back, suddenly angry because I wasn't disturbing anyone. Me, myself and I were having a quiet delightful discussion about our neighbourhood before this bloody prick decided to poke his head out of the window and wake up the dead.

"Did you just tell me to shut up? Did you just-" the bloke's rant was cut off by a feminine voice who appeared to stand next to him at the window and put a protective arm around him.

"She told me to shut up babe! I just wanted her to keep quiet because I know how much you need your beauty sleep," he said loudly.

I rolled my eyes and mimicked him. "Only ugly people need beauty sleep," I snorted to myself.

"WHAT? DID YOU JUST CALL MY GIRLFRIEND UGLY?" the guy screamed. Well, apparently that wasn't as "to myself" as I thought it was.

Suddenly the guy wasn't at the window anymore and if I didn't know any better, I'd say he was probably coming down the stairs to kick my ass. Luckily, I'm still a girl (at least, I think I am, wait let me check. Yep, the boobies are there. Barely, but they're there)

Suddenly the front door to the house was being thrown wide open and the guy comes storming out onto the street wearing nothing but a robe and boxer shorts, his girlfriend trotting along behind him, begging him to stop. The it occurred to me, why am I still here? If I was sober I'm pretty sure I would've made a run for it, like, long time ago, but tonight, I was itching to have some sort of confrontation, having yet been dumped for the fifth time due to the fact that my now ex-boyfriend Oiliver (it's actually Oliver but he had really oily skin. Like, really really. You could fry an egg on his face in the summer if you wanted. Believe me, I've tried) dumped me for my ex-girlfriend Eliza (Yes, I have explored my options. But I think that's the last time I will date my best girl-friend. Not that I have any of those anyway so I think I should be fine). Blurry boxer guy approached me with lightning speed and soon he was all up in my face, pointing fingers and yelling till a vein big enough for me to see it popped up onto his forehead.

I actually don't even know what he was saying, all I know is that I started laughing hysterically. Laughter which soon turned into crying but nevertheless, I was still able to speak. "First of all, I don't know why you're getting so hung up over your girlfriend's supposed "beauty sleep". First of all, you two probably aren't even going to last because she's probably cheating on you and you're cheating on her with some bimbo you met at the bar last week," I say with confidence. Those facts are possibly very wrong but what can I say? Alcohol makes you brave.

The guy looks at me, mouth opening and closing.

"Wait, you're cheating on me?" The girlfriend asks in a squeaky voice. He turns to face her, eyes wide and both hands held up in front of him as if to protect himself and that's when all hell breaks loose. Suddenly she's smacking him and screaming "Who is she? Who is she?" at the top of her lungs and then she abruptly stops and looks at me. "It's YOU! Isn't it?!" Then she lunges at me, pulling at my hair and scratching me with her fake claws but it's fine because I'm attacking her with a set of my own. I didn't even realize that most of the families in this neighbourhood had come out and were watching the scene fold out and I didn't realize that one of them had a approached us with a giant hosepipe in attempt to get us to stop fighting. Standing up, now sopping wet with the barely there material of my black dress clinging uncomfortably to every part of my body, I turn around, ready to murder the s.o.a.b who dared interrupt me while I was fighting. But before I could, I heard sirens and saw flashes of blue and red before a stern voice yelled, "Freeze."