Seeking advice

(This is the real reason Ronaldo left Man Utd)

I've had a pretty decent week so far bragging and rubbing salt in all the Man Utd wounds I could possibly find thus making me one happy chappy.

That was until this evening: when I heard about the cheating.

So we've all probably cheated at one time or the other in our wandering-eye lives. I have no problem with cheaters, I even consider it comedy hour when I watch the show Cheaters on television, but it becomes an issue when my friend is the one being cheated on. It's like the Sopranos: your friends become like your extended family and if someone messes with the family? Let's just say you better have a good plastic surgeon on speed dial.

Just kidding, relax! I've just always wanted to say that and be all mob-like and wicked cool and … ok … I'll stop right there.

The whole thing started when some of the guys came over to my house on Sunday to watch Chelsea destroy, uh, beat Man Utd in penalties in such a way even their mothers were ashamed to be associated with them. Did I mention I like rubbing salt in wounds?

Anyway, this one friend of mine comes along all merrily to watch the game, totally ignorant of the fact that I haven't seen him or heard from him in about six months, but still feels himself worthy to drink my liquor and eat my biltong (biltong being like beef jerky but just WAY better my Yankee friends tell me). I don't like having this friend around because he takes talking smack to a whole other level: the level which usually ends up with a fist in the face, but we didn't want to ruin the excitement that comes with the start of the new season of premiership football and thus nobody bothered listening to him. For the purpose of this post, let's just call this friend Smack.

After the game we had a BBQ and just a good catching-up session with most of the guys leaving at a respectable eleven o' clock. Except Smack. Because he wanted to talk more smack, but I really wasn't in the mood so I made a mistake … sorry … arrangement that I would meet him for coffee or a drink after netball practise today. What did he want to talk about, you may ask at this point urging me to actually just get to the point which is:

Smack has/had a new "girlfriend" which is just his term for the screw in his overactive screwdriver as he can't even keep a conversation going, let alone an attempt at a relationship and if I'm playing judge on this one you better know it's bad. He goes through girls quicker than a roll of toilet paper. It's just nasty.

More to just let him talk and not expect a response from my side, I ask him to describe her to me which he unfortunately did in every last gross detail. When I asked him if this seemingly painted lady had a name, I spilled half a glass of Jack D which made me even angrier. Turns out it's Chris's girlfriend and my (ex) friend. Just read all about the history on this link if you haven't seen it or merely need to refresh your memory.

Let's just call her Z: not for Zorro (I love that masked Spanish man too much to humiliate him like that), but Z for Zero as in she is dead to me.

I felt like Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson on The Closer as I assumed the roll of interrogator without Smack suspecting anything (she's really good at asking questions, that chick).

"Smack, that is truly an amazing story. The way you describe it makes it sound like true love?"
This is me puking in my hand.

"Nah, love is just a four letter word. You of all people should know that."
At least he can spell. Thank gawd for small mercies.

"True, true. Is that why we haven't seen you around? You've missed out on a few good Fridays, my friend."
Whatever. The only thing he missed was us ignoring him making a drunken fool out of himself.

"Nah, that was like last week. But she got all clingy and stuff and I told her like chill, cheapy, I don't need no complications, you know? And she got all like tissue on me who just messed up my like Hang Ten jacket and I just didn't need that in my life right now, you know?"

When I said he can spell, I meant it's as far as his language education goes. And he went to an English private school. Sad, I know.

"I feel so sorry for that (bitch) girl, Smack. You should seriously learn how to treat women better. How many times have we talked about respect?"

"Respect? Nah, I just respect you, baby," whilst giving what was probably an attempt at a sexy smile, but all I could see was Gollum wanting me to make out with him. Yuggy.

"So sorry to be rude, but I have to get up early tomorrow to go to … eh … gym. Thanks for the drink. Keep well!"
Luckily he's so self-centered he never realizes when people actually lie to him. Poor bastard.

Z was/is/has been/had been cheating on my best friend. How do I handle this situation? I don't want to be the "friend" that told him his girlfriend was fooling around with Smack of all people! Chris acts all macho and boys-don't-cry, but it won't be the best feeling hearing from someone your girlfriend went to seek greener (more like heavily armed with aftershave) pastures? And he obviously doesn't know because he was there on Sunday with the rest of the guys cheering by my side for our favorite football team.

And don't tell me he's into "Sharing with Smack." That's just wrong on so many levels. He's not really good at hiding his feelings; I can tell he's lying just by looking at his mouth. Don't ask me why or how, I just know. It's like I have a supersniffer when it comes to Chris telling lies. He hasn't figured out my secret tell though. Hehe.

But what to do? Maybe I should confront her? Yes! Then I can try that new combo of Superman I've been practicing on Mortal Kombat vs. DC. I love hearing "Finish him!"

I don't have a problem; I just mix fantasy with reality sometimes like all you people who watch and read Harry Potter, okay!

Let's not digress anymore as I know I have to do something, but I'm just not sure what and how cause I'll be damned it that girl gets away with breaking my best friend's heart. Until I come up with a solution, I will be busy perfecting my move non-stop, so don't be frightened or worried when you stumble across an article in our local newspaper about a homeless man getting kung fu'd by a blonde lady claiming to be Clark Kent in disguise. It's all in the name of friendship.