5 steps to a less douchey relationship

Hi kids, Dick Mostly - the Antiprofessional here. I am now going to fist-force knowledge into your orbital socket.

I was smitten once with a girl. I also made sure to let everyone know how smitten I was at all times; better known as being a blow-hard douche bag.

Your relationship is so wonderful. For you, it's unicorns pooing rainbows over a technicolor sea of harmony. For everyone else it's a painful reminder of why they'd enjoy body slamming co-dependent people into parked cars. Here's 5 things I abide by to be less douchey about it.

1. Stop plugging your significant other when they're not here.

Do you just love everything your partner does so much that you can't help but be their Public Relations rep? Well fucking stop. They're not even here. No, I "can not believe how LUCKY you are," because you're this stupid. If you ever say:

"...So and so did the cutest thing."

And it's not in reference to a drunk puppy, two babies, a marshmallow, and/or seven kittens? It's not the cutest thing.

Here's a short list of when it's OK to tell a story about someone that isn't famous, noteworthy, or relevant in a conversation:

I would love to hear all about this.

1. It involves a burning building
2. Wildlife attack
3. Birth
4. Death
5. Discovery of super powers
6. Religious/Paranormal experience
7. Horrific sports-related injury
8. Amber alert
9. Home intrusion
10. They want to sleep with me





So no, your partners' amazing ability to cook using Goya products does not appear on this list. Shut up.

2. Publicly missing your significant other during normal business hours is dumb.

If your significant other isn't stomping Taliban warlords into putty during night missions throughout the political hot-beds of the world, or travelling to Nicaragua to cure Lupus, no one wants to hear about how much you miss them. In reality, you're probably going to see them at 5pm, or (if you're being cheated on) during the weekend. Unless you're a dog with no concept of time, there's no reason to announce this fact to anyone, save for the hair doll you have of them which is why they're probably dating you in the first place: fear of personal safety.

3. Be real.

"You (will) complete me (after eaten)."

Stop celebrating your bi-weekly anniversary. The fact that you broke a personal record for not running your crotch into another person doesn't mean we all want to partake in the festivities. We live in something called reality. And in it, you're not dating Jesus. (Wait. Right?) Ratchet it back and try the 10/1 rule: for every 10 sappy dumb things you have to say, throw in one humanizing one; with fun examples of arguments or humiliating stories, if even just to let us know you're still with us here on Earth.

If you can't, then you're probably a delusional ego-liar who is dating a mannequin (manikin for you Americans). Because no relationship is perfect. And although I'm sure it's lovely in your Narnia dreamworld, I just can't deal with a place that doesn't have HBO. (Boardwalk Empire Sundays).

4. Every time you and your significant feel the need to broadcast competitively how much you love each other...

I just fucking love her so much.

Punch yourself right in the face.

Bonus: You'll be done with your Christmas shopping! Everyone will be happy you did this.





5. "If this ends tomorrow, will I feel stupid?"

"...but he has SUCH a great job."

Yup. When it all comes crashing down and you're scrambling to delete Facebook posts from them after they're convicted for that rash of serial masturbation in churches, you're REALLY going to have time to dwell on all those Enya songs you posted because "they just made you think of them and smile." Um, yeah, while you were busy bragging to me about how you always get butterflies when you see them, I was busy always seeing the butterfly knife they used to carve your name in their forearm. There's a song for this too. "Maybe you should have seen the warning signs of a serial killer" by Jasper Marx, who I just made up.


Of course you're going to feel stupid, dummy. You were too busy jamming the love bug up friends' unwilling, puckered up asses to realize that, hey, maybe my one and only someone isn't the one with the thousand yard stare (google it) every time we pass an elementary school.

But hey, did I mention the cutest thing she did for our 2 month anniversary?

I will now grant you health in 5 steps.

Hi, my name is Dick Mostly - the Antiprofessional. I lost 60 pounds by coming to grips and realizing I was a lazy idiot. These are the same five steps I explained to myself in order to start down the path of awesome. Ready? Go.

This shouldn't give you an erection.

1. Stop eating shit. 

You're fat. It's not genetics. You just suck at eating. Shitty foods fatten you fast. If you don't think they do, then look at yourself. Then look at the extra bowl of potatoes you're eating after your second bowl of potatoes. Gravy? Not a food group. You're being stupid.

2. Stop thinking exercise sucks.

Because everyone already knows it does. But being out of breath from showering also sucks. So you need to get your shit together.

I want to be inside you.

3. Stop thinking fat is the enemy.

Just because you're fat doesn't mean fat is bad. Quit making this shit personal. Carbohydrates and Sugars are the things that really "suck," and it's not even because they actually suck. It's because you're too lazy to burn them off properly, which is really your fault, but it's much easier to say that General Mills is a douche bag for exploiting your lack of willpower towards their delicious lineup of myth-based cereal characters.



So go ahead and avoid that avocado or pasta because they're high in fat or carbs while you're topping off your cauldron of frozen yogurt with pixie sticks and cheescake. Sounds reasonable, right? (By the way, that is fucking delicious).

4. Realize that you're being dumb.

You can't go work out then eat Taco Bell (I've done this) then be pissed at the lack of progress. (I've also done this). You're being ridiculous. Fire sauce? Not a vegetable. Although you will lose weight from the inevitable raging toilet massacre that follows said Taco Bell.

5. Chicken Caesar Salad isn't a fucking diet.

If you think your diet isn't working, you're probably eating a chicken caesar salad. Health is education. It's learning about you. What you like, and don't like. I know this scares people because they don't want to take that awkward journey inward to find out why they enjoy cross-dressing so much on Thursdays. A good diet keeps you entertained. You shouldn't feel handcuffed.

Well picked diet: "Go ahead buddy, I trust you."
Poorly picked diet: "You will jam this in your throat, or I will punch you in the throat."

Extra dressing, please I'm on a diet.

Likewise you shouldn't pick a diet that has foods you don't like, or can't have. Some diets will work for some people, others won't. If you're allergic to whey, you should probably stop eating whey protein you idiot. If you don't like fish, then going Pescetarian really was just a way of showing your ex you can commit to something. 

Just because it has the word "salad" in it, that doesn't mean it's good for you. You have to actually make rationale health decisions that equate to, "Are we sure six gallons of mayonnaise is healthy?" Yes, these decisions generally make other people go: 

"You're getting what?!" While they're fire-hosing hollandaise sauce on their pie-stuffed pancakes with a side of shame. (Also delicious). To which I generally reply: 

"I'm getting something that sucks, can I give you $5 to lick at your fingers after you're done eating?" But that's neither here nor there.

BONUS: Stop rewarding yourself for shit you didn't earn.

How about dieting for more than an hour before rewarding yourself with an Oatmeal Cream Pie stuffed with heath bars. That's disgusting. Now excuse me while I go make that.

Here's an incredibly useful diet education site to help you choose what diet works for you: http://dietchoices.com/

If this post upset you, pour some gravy on it.