Is there really such a thing as a non-messy breakup?
Is there a breakup in which neither party turns to a tub of Duncan Hines frosting to muffle the yak-like sounds of their latest, mostly unprompted crying jag? Is there a breakup outside of Pennsylvania Dutch country that doesn't involve inappropriate amounts of liquor consumed in disgusting quantities and combinations?
If there is, I've yet to experience one.
I can, however, offer up the food critic's guide to post-breakup dining. A meal plan, as it were, for the rocky week ahead. Speaking of which, I'm off to buy some more rocky road ice cream and watch another season of Breaking Bad in my swimsuit. No, I'm not going swimming. Leave me alone.
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