Man, this Beatles Rock Band game is totally worth the three hundred bucks. I’m so glad we waited in line for four hours to buy it. I’d gladly take another three sick days off work to play through this shit with you. The Beatles are like my favorite band ever.

Oops. Pause. My phone is ringing. Kind of weird for me to get a call in the middle of the—Oh, it’s just Julie. One second…

Hey baby. What? That sounds fun. When? Right now? I can’t right now. I know it’s my day off, but… But I’m with… I see you all the time, baby. That’s not true. Okay, hold on. Yeah. I guess for a couple hours. I’m not mad. Are you? Good. I’ll see you in a few minutes. Okay. Love you.

Hey, man… some bad news… it looks like I’m gonna have to take off for a few hours.  I know that I promised we would play this all day and unlock as many of the songs as we could but…

Holy shit. Do you know what I just realized? My girlfriend is a total Yoko Ono.

I can’t believe I didn’t see the signs until we bought this game, man. She’s totally breaking you and me up just like she broke up Lennon and McCartney. In fact, this is even worse, because we’re more than just creative partners… we’re roommates.

Damn it. I spilled beer all over Ringo’s drumset. No, don’t get up. I’ll get the paper towels. I think I need to walk this off, anyway.

What do I do? Dump her? I can’t do that. She’s like the best thing that’s ever happened to me. She’s a blowjob machine. And let’s not forget that she makes us a pasta dinner every Thursday night. That’s fucking awesome of her.

But if I don’t dump her, this kind of shit is just gonna keep happening over and over again. She’s so goddamn needy, and she uses my undying love for blowjobs to keep me on a short leash. I guess there’s nothing I can do. I’m fucked!

I guess I finally know how John Lennon felt.

The more I think about it, the more I wonder how I didn’t realize this a long time ago. Remember when she told me that I couldn’t watch our annual Red Dwarf marathon because she wanted me to go with her to visit her grandmother in the hospital?

Or when she said I couldn’t compete in the Starcraft LAN party you had at your stepbrother’s apartment because her appendix had burst?

Remember when she forced me to pose nude with her in that crappy art project for a class that she didn’t even like and then cut herself out so it was just me and my balls hanging out for the whole class to see?

She’s trying to ruin me, man. She’s trying to turn me into something I’m not. I’m no guru. I’m just a guy trying to get me some peace.

The worse thing is, I can’t look to John Lennon for a way out of this conundrum. I don’t know if you knew this, but the guy was assassinated before he could figure out a way to get rid of his particular Yoko Ono. And, even though he’s dead, she’s still got him under her thumb. That’s some scary shit right there.

You think I should ask her to join the band? And do what? Sit on the couch and complain that your rhythms are too poppy and your lyrics meaningless? I couldn’t do that to you man.

I have to go. We’re meeting outside Nordstroms in twenty minutes. Listen, this doesn’t mean the band is broken up, okay? It just means we’re on hiatus. If you want to start a side project, I understand, but don’t call it Wings.

As told to Hardcasual’s Canadian correspondent, Filipe Salgado.