Shakira once said, “Hips don’t lie,” but that is a lie, because your hips are probably the biggest damn liars in your body.
For instance, I know for a fact that your hips didn’t go out for a glass of wine with its co-workers after work last Friday night. No, I saw your hips at that trendy gay bar in the Meatpacking District, getting phone numbers from ladies, and then, later, staggering out to share a cab with a sultry female impersonator.
And that’s not the only time your hips have lied to you. Do you really think your hips were on a “business trip” when they went down to New Orleans during Mardi Gras? And what about that time your hips came home with that Cher tattoo, and they told you that it was part of a team-building exercise for the designers?
Look, the best thing you can do right now is kick your hips out now. Pack up their stuff and put it out on the sidewalk. Change the locks. And in a few months, maybe you’ll be ready for a new relationship. I’ve noticed your femur glancing your direction more than once, and it’s available!