My friend got back with her ex-boyfriend the other day. She told me about it over a full plate of Sushi at an expensive pseudo-Asian restaurant in the South Loop.

“How’s it going?” I asked.
“Let’s not talk about it. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“That sounds real good.”

There isn’t any better response to “I heard you got back with your ex, how’s it going?” than “I don’t want to talk about it.” How else can you explain the impending doom of a relationship?

“It’s going wonderful! It’s going so well that I don’t even want to talk about it ever! “

“The sex is uber-fabulous! He tends to my lady nether regions with a delicate and passionate finesse , and it’s so mind blowing that I want to forget that it ever happened and pretend that he is dead! “

Then again, I am a cynical bastard that never had a relationship that lasted longer than twenty minutes and involved a girl that was relatively sane. Still, I never understood what the point of getting back together with an ex was if y’know… it was already broken once. If you bought a car and found out that it tended to violently explode and spew car parts all over the road, would you go out and buy the exact same car again (In the hypothetical reality that you survive the explosion)? I wouldn’t, I haven’t, and I never will.

I think one of the other reasons I don’t have many relationships is due to the fact that there are so many misconceptions about me. Yes, most of what you heard is very true: I am mind blowingly smart, I am quite the handsome devil, and I smell like daisies, at least thats what my Mother tells me. But I am also very open minded and sensitive, I love flowers and Pandas . But sometimes there are things about me that come out that just don’t seem like Dan Luke , such as the following pictures: