Year of the Rat Couldn’t Come Soon Enough for Ex-Boyfriend
According to ancient mythology, the rat got its number one place in the Chinese zodiac calendar by scamming its way to the Jade Emperor’s party first; arguably a story very similar to the way your former flame slipped into climax before you did every...single...time. In more ways than one, ex-boyfriends have proven themselves as genuinely worthy of being celebrated this year. Rats, valued for their wealth and reproduction rate, were clearly the inspiration for your ex claiming bankruptcy every time he needed to buy condoms. And while rats are most famously known for carrying the bubonic plague, the vermin of FSU are sure to bring disease with their dollar store hand soap refilled with mostly Tallahassee tap water. So in 2020, watch for the sewers and Southgate, because the rats are newly single and annoyingly thriving.
“It’s not my fault I decided I needed to have sex with other people, including that ex of mine she was worried about the entire time we were dating. After all, new year, new me,” said Hunter Carlson, ex-boyfriend extraordinaire and, of course, a fucking Philosophy major. “I was actually born in the Year of the Dragon - obviously - but she can call me a rat if she wants. I want to allow my ex to share her feelings since I intend on never listening to them again,” said Carlson while re-activating his Tinder account and expanding his age range to 18-45 out of his commitment to “equal opportunity.” “Honestly, I’m cool with her calling me a rat. I mean, my unwashed, empty Polar Pop filled 5x2 apartment I share with the boys has had a vermin problem since I moved in, and it didn’t stop me from sleeping with her, one of her friends, one of her friend’s friends and seemingly any random, living woman I could find after our breakup.”
“I cannot fucking believe you’re comparing me to something so disgusting,” said the rat that lives in the Suwannee dumpster. “First of all, we aren’t the only ones that had the plague. I can’t say the same for “The Nole” or whatever you call your frat-originated STD,” he squeaked while nibbling on a used tampon. “It’s finally my year. I haven’t been this celebrated since Disney acted like we understood French cuisine. And now you guys had to ruin it by acting like I have anything in common with someone who sucks on a flavored USB and drinks Mountain Dew as if his life depends on it!” exclaimed the rat, visibly angry as he foamed at the mouth, which he was adamant was still better than chlamydia.
While the Year of the Snake will always be reserved for backstabbing middle school best friends, the Year of the Rat is shaping up to be an absolute movie for ex-boyfriends everywhere. Given the opportunity to sneak around, fuck everything that moves and devour any and all snacks in the pantry, both ex-boyfriends and the rats they so adamantly admire will finally get to shine. Sure, he’ll call his girlfriend crying about how big of a mistake he made come mid-March, but until then, this mouse can’t be trapped. Also, could he have his hoodie back? He’s trying to find a place to burrow in until spring.