Based on my limited experience, it’s not usually his heart that’s cheating, is it, O Magazine?
I’ve never had a cheating man ask me to stroke his heart. They don’t text at 3 a.m. looking for deep, penetrating…heart-to-heart conversation.
But I guess “his cheating dick” was kinda inappropes for the supermarket checkout.
(Again, limited experience. My heart has cheated, I’m sure others’ have, too.)
I was looking for a different Garfunkel & Oates video for a later post, but I saw this in the YouTube sidebar so I’m sharing it first.
I’ve posted this before, but it’s been a while, and it’s always worth hearing again. But also, I HAVE in fact gotten that drunk text at 3 in the morning, and it was indeed “SO close, but not quite there.”
A friend got a late-night drunk text from a guy last night (not even a booty call, ’twas about the feels), and I got one recently as well, leading us to a conversation about what people are thinking when they do this.
For me, the late-night drunk text will get you absolutely nowhere. In fact, it will set you back, because in addition to whatever the text says (which I automatically think is drunken horseshit because of the time, OR that you meant to text someone else), you’re also saying you don’t think enough of me to come correct soberly and say it by the light of day. It’s insulting, and pretty much makes you look like an asshole.
I can’t even imagine how much shit I’d get if I pulled that on a guy. I wouldn’t even get to defend myself — he’d probably just block my number, because it’s a dick move. If a chick did it, we’d get written off as your crazy psycho stalker. (Unless it’s a booty call, in which case I think we’d be cleared. Maybe… I personally have such a hard time sleeping that if anyone woke me up planning to penetrate me, I’d probably be pretty pissed. Don’t know how dudes would react.)
P.S. I AM, however, allllll about the late-night drunk email. It doesn’t wake anyone up, and I like waking up to long-form sexiness in my inbox…tee hee…
“…I’ll be in my bunk.”
See also: I’m gonna need some boots.
I’ve been tempted to contact an acquaintance of mine and just say, “I think you’d be amenable to sleeping with me, that you’d satisfy me, and not disrespect me OR want to date me after. So… wanna?”
I’d be offended if a guy said that to me, but I suspect, as a woman, it would make me some kind of hero.
Hm. Maybe I don’t even need to take the coward’s way out of this “breakup.” I haven’t heard from him since Christmas Day, and that includes an uncharacteristically booty-call-free weekend — I think the first since I’ve known him. This is good, because I was frankly too goddamn tired to shave anything all weekend, let alone deal with the performance of sex. (Yep, “performance.” Go big or go home, people.)
Hurrah, avoidance! Hurrah, not shaving!
Wow, really? Even your semi-drunk late-night solicitations of sex are boring?!
Congratulations, Fun Bobby. Jesus.
Smug Singleton 