Reason # 4,682 Why I'm Still Single . . .

I date the clinically insane.

I am not exaggerating when I say that my latest ex-boyfriend is crazier than a shit-house rat. I'm talking Britney-Spears-impersonating-Amy-Winehouse, cracked out of his mind. I'm relatively sure that he was always a hot mess, but managed to keep his shit together enough to avoid prolonged periods of institutionalization.

So, I get a frantic call from Gary Busey, Jr. on Friday night (yes, I'm home on a Friday night because I am that popular). He is blubbering something about drinking warm, nasty beer on the side of the highway after an ill-fated journey to his parents' house about two hours away. I offered to come pick him up because I am nice (read: stupid) like that, but he assures me he can get to my apartment safely. A half-hour later, my drunken, sweaty ex is standing at my front door, teary-eyes to the sky.

Now, at this point I feel genuinely bad for him. Clearly, something terrible must have happened, I (erroneously) imagine. And then I hear the story triggering this breakdown . . .

The girl he's been fucking (there is really no more tactful way to describe their affiliation) for a whopping three months will not dump her long-term boyfriend to take an unadulterated ride on Tom Cruise's crazy train, despite repeated assurances (lies) that she will. Um, yeah. In addition to a boyfriend, this wholesome lass also has both syphilis and HPV. Enhancing her charm would be her penchant for compulsive lying. And solidifying their profoundly intimate bond would be the fact that she never even gave him her phone number, lest he attempt to make any contact with her beyond that of penis to vag.

Boo hoo hoo. Let me get this straight: she is a lying, cheating, diseased whore, and my ex is crying because this cum receptacle won't be his girlfriend. Hmm. This poses a couple of questions: Q. "Why are you in love with her?" A. "She's hot." Duly noted . . . at least you are not shallow. Q. "Why are you crying to me about this?" A. "My friends and family are so sick of hearing about her, they won't even talk to me anymore." Damnit . . . how can I get on that list?

Boo hoo hoo. "It hurts so much when someone you care about lies to you." You don't say . . . this coming from a man who continuously lied to me throughout our entire relationship, which, embarrassingly enough, lasted well over three months. Aside from the fact that you must be brain-dead to expect honesty from the unabashedly unfaithful whore with whom you have been illicitly copulating for the past three months, how could you possibly care this much about someone after such a brief period of time? And are you seriously crying about this to me, Patrick Bateman? You treated me just as badly and insincerely, but, to make matters worse, at least I didn't have every reason in the world NOT to trust you, you self-centered, narcissistic socio-path.

Yes, this is all very sad indeed. I think I hear a couple of AIDS orphans crying over your loss. Oh wait, that's actually the sound of the vomit churning up my throat because you literally make me sick - you weak, pathetic, empty-shell of a man.

Boo hoo hoo. "I've thought about ending my life." At this point, not the worst idea I've ever heard.

After an entire night and a bit of the morning spent weeping and venting, Sybil finally felt well enough to go home. After he left, I found a receipt he left behind from a local bar. The date and time on the receipt indicated that he had paid the bill about 20 minutes before showing up at my apartment. So much for the whole "trip-to-my-parents'-house, drinking-on-the-side-of-the-road" story. He had been at fucking happy hour . . . and blatantly lied about it. "It hurts so much when someone you care about lies to you."

Um, yeah. Karma's a bitch.

Seriously. Is this seriously what I have to deal with?