*Post based on a recent study of the Google search, "Things you don't tell your bestfriend"*
Dennie and I were always under the impression we were supposed to tell each other everything. The way bestfriends do. But then, as usual, Google said we were wrong and showed us the light. The following list is taken from an article titled "7 Things Your Best Friend Won't Tell You."
1. I don't like your boyfriend
2. I can't believe you didn't get me a wedding present.
3. You never want to talk about serious issues
4.Your husband hit on me
5.Your children drive me crazy
6.You complain but then never take my advice
7. You don't lean on me
Due to the fact that the two of us have violated more than one of the things on this list, we are going to examine the worst case scenarios, if you do, in fact, tell your best friend these things.
"I don't like your boyfriend."
Let's say Dennie has a boyfriend. Yes. Big shocker. We will pretend he is a major tool, and I hate him. Being as what Google would define as a bad best friend, I'm going to tell her I don't like him. This can cause a variety of reactions. We're going to assume it will make Dennie want to do everything in her power to make things work with Mr. Tool.
She'll probably start making him breakfast, texting him incessantly, she'll go to the gym with him, buy him a new house, replace all of his tvs, wait in line on black friday for the best ping pong table around, do photo shoots with him, and eventually secretly get pregnant, and convince him that marrying her is the only option. All to spite my comment that I do not care for tool face.
This will of course make me even more angry. Which brings us to item number two.
"I can't believe you didn't get me a wedding present."
When Dennie is unwrapping the thousands of gifts she received at her wedding, she is bound to notice she is missing one. The most important one. The gift of all the gifts. The gift that only I, her best friend should have gotten her. The lint roller 5972. This lint roller is unlike the other 5971 lint roller editions ever created. It rolls lint like none other. And she needed it.
She may be hesitant at first to approach me about not giving her a wedding present, but then, her anger will overcome her fear, and she will eventually say something. I'm going to be defensive about it. I am going to be enraged by her audacity. How dare she ask me why I didn't get her a present. I don't need to explain my actions. What gives her that right?
This whole uncomfortable situation is going to make our friendship go downhill. Which brings us to item number three.
"You never want to talk about serious issues"
Dennie's angry with me because I won't talk with her about the above occurrence at all. She continually will pester me about it on every social network possible. She will go so far as to create a twitter account, just to tweet about her hateful feelings. I will then, become even angrier with her, do to all the serious situations I've talked her through in the past.
Her extreme Herpes outbreak. Her violent tourette syndrome. When she got in trouble for stealing all the Christmas supplies in Whoville. The time she lost her favorite pair of socks. When she accidently bleached her black sweater vest that she needed. The list goes on. But you get the picture, I've been with the girl for a lot.
Despite all of this, I will be mature and overcome my anger. I have to be there for her baby Tool. So I will apologize, we will reconcile, and I will attend her first doctors appointment. Afterall, the whole argument was just over the lint roller 5972, that's not worth ruining a friendship over. Unfortunately, this takes us to number four on the list.
"Your husband hit on me"
It all starts when I go with her and Mr. Tool to their appointment. Little do they know, I am madly in love with the doctor they are seeing, Dr. Anthony Leon Beckett. He's uncontrollable attractive and witty. So I am dressed to impress. I show up, wearing my best Gucci princess ball gown, complete with crown and sparkly shoes. Dennie, is wearing an oversized Pepsi sweatshirt, soffe shorts, a matching fanny pack and combat boots.
I draw the attention of everyone in the office. I assume it is because of my radiating beauty, and not because I am over dressed at all. What I am wearing is completely appropriate. However, I start to feel strange when Mr. Tool will not stop staring at me. Everytime I walked past he wolf whistled and slapped my ass. During the ultrasound, he grasped my hand. I thought it was because he needed support during this extremely emotional time. Then he called Dennie a grenade. I knew this was not right. Dennie was completely oblivious.
After the ordeal, I tried approaching Dennie about it, but she didn't believe me. She thought it was all over the jealousy I had, that started when I first told her how I felt about her husband. Nine months and 5972 hours of labor later, Luna Devine Tool was gracefully brought into this world. She was all a tool could be. A real loony tool. Which takes us to number five.
"Your children drive me crazy"
Luna is only one child. But with her complete psychotic multiple personality disorder, along with her genetic herpes and tourrettes, she was completely intolerable. While playing tag with herself, she would go into a fit of rage, having seizures and rolling all over the ground. Dennie thought it was darling, I saw it as a severe issue. Eventually, I couldn't hang out with them anymore. I rejected all the dinner invites, park play dates, christmas tree lightings, sewing machine cleaning days, and all other pointless activies I was expected to be a part of.
Finally, after months of rejection, Dennie asked what was up. I told her plain and simple. I hate your child, and I don't want to be any part of your life if she is going to be around. This is it. Me or the kid. Dennie sighed, and introduced me item number 6.
"You complain but never take my advice."
To begin with, you should have a look into advice Dennie has given me in the past. Don't go to college. Only bathe with organic soap. Don't eat apples with stickers already taken off of them. You get it. She is a terrible advice giver. How dare she accuse me of not taking HER advice, when here she is, Mrs. Dennie Lynn Tool, mother of the infamous Luna Devine Tool. There are no words to describe my frustration with her. After all I've tried to do to help her, and she throws that in my face. Which brings us to the final, most fatal item on the list.
"You don't lean on me"
It was a mutual feeling between the two of us. We couldn't depend on each other for anything anymore. Neither one of us wanted to spend any time together. We were, essentially, not best friends anymore. This is cause for extreme depression in both of us. How do you go from the greatest friends of all the great friends, to the dirty kitchen of a mess we were in? The only option was a romantic double suicide. We did it together, a last, testament of the friendship we used to have. Using nothing but plastic spoons and bubble wrap, we went out with a bang. Not a literal bang. No guns were harmed in the making of this suicide.
*All situations above are merely hypothetical. We do not know that any of these things will actually happen.*
Moral of the story: Google is not a healthy remedy for boredom. It can, and will be disastrous.
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