🔪 LOVE BITES: A SURVIVAL GUIDE TO DATING WHEN EVERY RED FLAG IS A BLOODY WARNING SIGN (FIRST DATE? CHAIN YOURSELVES TOGETHER, YOU LUNATICS) 🔪
By Sammy, Veteran of More Romantic Apocalypses Than There Are Stars in a Black Hole (Currently Single and SUSPICIOUS OF ALL MOVING OBJECTS)
🎤 ALRIGHT, YOU LOVE-LORN FREAKS! You think hearts and flowers? I think chainsaws and shattered expectations! Let’s inject some glorious, unhinged chaos into this dating disaster zone, shall we? Forget polite warnings; we’re going full-blown batshit survival mode!
RULE #1: DON’T SPLIT UP (UNLESS ONE OF YOU IS BAIT. MAYBE). Seriously, are you actively TRYING to become a statistic in someone’s twisted love story? First date in a dimly lit catacomb? Attached at the hip. Bathroom break? Tag team. Your date suggests a romantic midnight swim in a bottomless lake? TIE YOURSELVES TO A BUOY. Better to drown together than get dragged down by a kraken of crazy.
RULE #2: TRUST YOUR GUT (IT’S PROBABLY SCREAMING IN TONGUES). That twitch in your eye when they mention their collection of human teeth? That’s not indigestion, that’s your soul trying to evacuate your body. Slasher victims had “feelings” too… right before they became fertilizer. If your date radiates the warmth of a taxidermied iguana, ABORT. Fake a sudden case of spontaneous combustion. It’s more believable than “I have a headache.”
RULE #3: SEX = SUDDEN, VIOLENT DISMEMBERMENT (MAYBE LITERALLY). Oh, you think “Netflix and chill” is innocent? In this scenario, “chill” involves rigor mortis. The second you lower your inhibitions (and possibly your pants), the odds of encountering a rusty machete skyrocket. Resist the primal urge! Channel that energy into interpretive dance… at a safe distance. Delayed gratification is the only gratification when your date might moonlight as a skin flayer.
RULE #4: ALCOHOL IS LIQUID COURAGE… FOR YOUR STALKER. Two margaritas and suddenly their whispered threats sound like sweet nothings? WRONG. You’re just marinating yourself in stupid juice. Stay sharp enough to spot the glint of madness in their eyes. One glass of wine MAX. The rest of the night? Chug industrial-strength coffee and maintain DEFCON 1.
RULE #5: IF THEY’RE PERFECT, THEY’RE PERFECTLY PSYCHOTIC (LIKE A MANNEQUIN WITH A KNIFE). Charming, rich, loves your obscure death metal band? Sounds like a goddamn trap! Nobody is that flawless. They’re either a serial killer in disguise or a highly sophisticated robot programmed for maximum emotional damage. Run. Change your identity. Move to another continent.
RULE #6: NEVER GO TO THEIR “SECRET HIDEOUT” (UNLESS YOU’RE PACKING TNT). “Come see my butterfly collection… in my soundproofed basement.” Nope. Nope nope nope. That’s not romance, that’s a kidnapping starter kit. Stick to well-lit public spaces with multiple escape routes and witnesses who aren’t mannequins. Their “cozy attic” is probably where they keep the trophies.
RULE #7: IF THEY BITCH ABOUT THEIR EX FOR THREE HOURS STRAIGHT, YOU’RE NEXT. Congratulations, you’re the rebound… with a high probability of becoming the cautionary tale. Obsessive ex talk is a giant neon sign flashing “I HAVE UNRESOLVED ISSUES AND YOU’RE ABOUT TO BECOME ONE OF THEM.” Deploy the emergency exit strategy. NOW.
RULE #8: PAY ATTENTION TO THE WEIRD SHIT (THEY’RE NOT “QUIRKY,” THEY’RE UNHINGED). The shrine they built to you after one date? The pet crow they named after your dead hamster? The way they stare intently while you sleep (allegedly)? THESE ARE NOT CUTE. These are early warning signs that you’ve stumbled into a real-life horror movie. Document everything. Get restraining orders. Learn to wield a fire extinguisher.
RULE #9: ALWAYS HAVE A BUG-OUT BAG (FILLED WITH TASERS AND ENERGY DRINKS). First date? Pack accordingly. Taser? Check. Pepper spray disguised as lipstick? Check. A grappling hook for a quick rooftop escape? Highly recommended. Never underestimate the lengths a desperate (and possibly deranged) admirer will go to.
RULE #10: THE CRAZIER YOU ARE, THE BETTER YOUR CHANCES (MISDIRECTION IS KEY). If all else fails, embrace the madness. Start screaming about imaginary spiders. Talk to inanimate objects. Convince them you’re the one who’s going to build a shrine out of their toenail clippings. Sometimes, the best defense is to be so utterly bonkers that even the most unhinged stalker will nope the hell out.
🔪 FINAL SCREAM: DATING IS A BLOODSPORT. SURVIVE IT. Forget finding “the one.” Focus on finding a way to make it to the next sunrise without becoming a cautionary tale on a true crime podcast. Stay paranoid, stay prepared, and for the love of all that is unholy, if they offer you a ride in their windowless van… JUST SAY NO.
🎤🔪 PS: MY IDEAL DATE INVOLVES A FULLY ARMED ESCORT AND A PRE-PLANNED HELICOPTER EVACUATION. ROMANCE IS DEAD. LONG LIVE SELF-PRESERVATION. 🔪🎤
