We all know that moment—he compares you to his mom; she figured out your PIN and lifted two grand from your checking account; he shows up for the first date in full-on Ren Faire garb—it’s the moment when you realize that it is so very over.

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Thankfully, there’s good company in commiserating with others regarding the very worst dating stories—and their endings. Robert Elder started compiling these tales of woe in his website, itwasoverwhen.com, which got a huge bump in traffic when filmmaker Kevin Smith tweeted about it.

Now, It Was Over When… has compiled some of the very best break-up moments into one snazzy book. Take a look:

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“After two years together, his lease was up for renewal. I suggested he and I move in together. His response: ‘You want to live with me and my roommates?’ ”

“Being well-read is a major turn-on for me. On the first date, I referenced Shakespeare’s Taming of the Shrew and Much Ado About Nothing, and she had never even heard of them. But she had read Twilight.”

“He started crying one night and told me he fell in love with a three-hundred pound Canadian woman he met playing Final Fantasy online.”

“Not only did he have a man-purse (aka a ‘murse’), which I could have dealt with, but as we parted, he pulled a jar of chunky peanut butter out of his murse, gave it to me, and told me,  ‘It reminded me of you.’ ”

“The girl took pictures of me—from I don’t even know where—and spelled out her name and phone number with them and put them on the roof of my car.”

“Halfway through sex, my boyfriend looked at the clock and said, ‘Oh, crap, it’s 4:25—my crops are going to wither!’ and proceeded to go to the computer to harvest his crop on Farmville, an online game.”

“My friends were going through the (gay) exotic massages and other sexual offers on Craigslist and laughing at how funny some of them sounded. They got to one that had a familiar number. It was my boyfriend’s number.”

“An unfortunate event led me to meet a hippie chick as a blind date. I was half-heartedly listening to her spout off the many ways she was thrifty, an avid recycler, and a freegan who rummaged through back alleys for clothing and used the Mooncup Menstrual Cup (blech!). The world stood still for me when she said she did not use toilet paper. Instead, she used rags and washed them for reuse.”

“I asked him what he wanted to be doing in five years. He said, ‘still driving a truck and finally be making real money at $15 per hour.’ He had already been working there for five years and had started the job at $13 per hour.”

“He told me that we couldn’t move in together because he’d feel guilty when he brought other girls home.”

(Ed note: All excerpts from advance copy. Finished book copy may differ slightly.)