We used to be friends. No wait, you just dicked me around to validate your ginormous ego.

A long time ago, we used to be friends
But I haven’t thought of you lately at all
If ever again, a greeting I send to you,
Short and sweet to the soul I intend…

My former Italian Holy Grail of Manhood resurfaces, again…

voodooThe first text came around the holidays via my Italian cel phone that seems to still work here in Canada, as it is apparent I can receive texts from afar…

“Merry Christmas, and forgive me – also Happy Belated Birthday! – Cristian”

Whatever. Paying 50¢ for an overseas reply hardly seemed worth it. Anyways, how many times have MY texts gone unanswered?  Even the last one saying goodbye as I was about to leave Italy for good, plus a similar email I sent via FB – got no response. Jerk.

Then a couple of weeks ago…
“I know you are angry with me, at least tell me how things are going in your life.”


He had an 8 year window (while I was living in Italy) to see me and did nothing about it. His overall  inflated self-importance is reminiscent of 2 summers ago (after the break-up with ‘The English Patient’) when I took a mini-break to Pescara, 30 minutes drive from where he lives and received this text…

“I’m sorry I can’t meet you this weekend, I am very sick with diarrhea and vomiting… I’m sorry for ruining your vacation”

Part of it was true at least – He was full of shit.


I hadn’t gone there for him, I had gone there for ME. It being convenient to visit as there was an inexpensive coach direct from Salerno, and it was also near the Adriatic sea. Sure it would have been nice to meet after so many years, but I had already expected he would find some lame excuse not to meet up. There was also the time he was fishing for sympathy after the death of his dog that he had had for 14 years. I never knew he had a dog. He never once mentioned it in passing, even though he knows how much I loves dogs. I mean, don’t REAL friends know this stuff about each other?

Despite my irritation I cordially replied to his latest text, even telling him my dog passed away last month, but of course I received no response – that would require having actual warm-blood along with an absence of fins and scales.

douchebagI REALLY wanted to say:  News Flash. I don’t give a shit anymore. You married a sawdust and tomato sauce-flavoured muffin-top, when you could have had cake. Deal with it, and stop contacting me. (Actually while writing this I became so irritated that an hour ago I sent him yet another text telling him he’s predictable and selfish, and not to contact me anymore.  Problem solved.)

Yesterday’s surprise email via Facebook from a former Pasta for One
‘Guest Star’ was no less futile…


Remember HIM?

Re-enter ‘Luke Wilson Bike Mechanic’ infamous for his mouth  – large enough to accomodate numerous  feet, verbal diarrhea, and his grand declarations of epic stupidity including; he was using me as a distraction from his likely immediate-future douchebaggery  ie. riding the banana-seat with his good friend’s  ex-girlfriend aka. ‘The Ugg Boot-wearing Skank’ or more simply ‘Boot Bitch.’

Hey Cakes, I was just in Ukraine and you came to mind because there were dogs everywhere on the streets. Many of them looked like the ‘Officious Seeing Eye Bitch’ from the movie ‘Everything is Illuminated’. Short pudgy bodies and short snouts. I wanted to bring some dogs home with me.  They were really nice dogs too. It made me sad to know that many were randomly shot when many cities in Ukraine were preparing for the European World Championships last year.  Anyhow, how are you?  Are you still in Italy?


Is he for real? I remind him of nice Eastern European street dogs with ‘short pudgy bodies and short snouts?’ Despite how aberrant his use of the English language seems to be, I think I know what he is trying very inarticulately to communicate. But the question remains, why even bother? Ignoring his obscure triggered reminder of me, yet acknowledging the misfortune of street dogs, I also politely included within my reply:

 I left Italy for a few reasons. The catalyst was a family issue, but I essentially was tired of all the hassles ie. – no local transit, bureaucracy, overall disrespect, douchebaggery, the list goes on…. So yeah that’s it.
I hope all is well and the bike thing is working out for you. Cheers.

Yes, I said ‘douchebaggery’ – If the shoes fits.

But what I really wanted to say: Was the ‘dog thing’ an icebreaker? Why should you be even be interested? I should think your swell and sensitive now because you feel sorry for street dogs? I do this everyday – welcome to my world. There is a reason I DIDN’T maintain contact with you, and I prefer to let sleeping dogs lie (unless they have paws).


Futile friendships are just that… FUTILE.

In addition, what do I generally think of this apparent ‘trend’ ie. the numerous douchebaggy men in the past that seem to have taken my love of dogs and tried
using it to make themselves look more sensitive in order to manipulate a situation,
or to get attention by making me feel sorry for them in some way?

j j f

Adequately expressed

…and shame on you.


About Cakes McCain

Aka. 'Oliver Twist with Furniture and Diamonds' Ex-pat, lunatic, survivor - A Bridget Jones/Shirley Valentine hybrid, epically flawed, neurotic literary ‘dirty apple’ with a penchant for broad shoulders, epic orgasms, & lazy Sunday mornings eating cake in bed. Almost always broken-hearted, forever analysing everything to a bloody pulp and eternally obessing over 'Pasta for One - The Manuscript' a chick-lit memoir about living single in fabulous Italy, while trying not to throw yourself in front of a speeding bus.
This entry was posted in break-up, cake, casual sex, dating, dating rejects, European men, ex boyfriends, exes, Friends with benefits, friendship, guilt, hook-ups, humour, internet dating, Italian life, Italian men, Italy, Italy living, Lies, Life in Italy, losers, lost love, love, players, relationships, self examination, self help, self loathing, sex, Uncategorized, web dating, x-pat, x-pats and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

7 Responses to We used to be friends. No wait, you just dicked me around to validate your ginormous ego.

  1. You Totally Sold Me With The Usage Of “Douche-Baggery” !!! hehe I Am In Lust With That Term !!! 😀 hehehe
    Very Nice Post, Ms. Cakes 😉

  2. MJ says:

    Yes, Douchebaggery. I think I used that term in a recent post. It’s a good word. A most necessary term particularly if you’re a female.

    You know, I actually like this season in life–the pruning phase. Everyone starts showing their cards, if you will, and you get to start thinning out the old Rolodex. I used to be a person that certain types would take advantage of, and then I figured it out. So, this could actually be a good thing. Like going through your closet and getting rid of the old clothes that you don’t wear anymore–making room for new ones. We have to do that in our lives and relationships, too, because we do apply a lot of energy to these things whether we know it or not. It might be a burner in the back our mind dedicated to a certain person, simmering away with questions or resentment or what have you. Nonetheless, now the whole pot can go. Luke Wilson and Cristian can go into the pile of clothes to be donated, and now your mental closet has room for something that suits you better.

    • Cakes McCain says:

      I totally agree. Funny, I often read Brezny’s astrological forcasts and recently he said something quite similar about my friendships. I took note of it when the ‘penis conversation’ took place a few weeks back. I have always been the one to make an effort to maintain certain friendships, but now I think this is a real period of reflection for me for doing an inventory. I sure have enough time on my hands to ponder these days. 😉

  3. The Hook says:

    I wish I had more time to visit… I’d almost forgotten how ridiculously cool you are!

  4. daterofboys says:

    Nauseating. But nice that they all give you a chance to say what’s on your mind 🙂

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