Not tonight, Pervy McGee.

First OkCupid message:

I actually don’t think a man ever has reacted my voice. I’m sure they’ve reacted to things I’ve said, but that’s because I’m a wanton harlot, not because of my voice.

Again, though, thanks for the heads up about your mini-fetish. As someone who is also aurally fixated, I respect it. But you’re creepy about it, and you used emojis, and…no.

This feels like I’m being catfished by some pervy Ursula.

Putting the “surge” in “resurgence.”

The bad news is, I am sick as fuck.

The good news is, depending on the minute, I either sound like Sick Phoebe singing her sultry version of “Smelly Cat” on Friends, or like I could successfully supplement my income by taking a side gig as a phone sex operator. (Is phone sex even still a thing? Probably not. I’m behind the porn ball. No, wait… Ew… But I could totally bring it back. Like flannel shirts. Porny ones…)

Right. So clearly I should be keeping an eye on my temperature, because delirium is setting in.

Y’all didn’t need to hear this.

I know it’s a common name, but it still amuses my brain sometimes when I talk to my coworker Rob and vividly remember a very different Rob who really (REALLY) liked hearing his name in combination with “Fuck me harder.”

I really wish I’d said that because I’m super smooth in bed and intrinsically attuned to my partner’s needs. But really, the first time I said it I was just bored. Thankfully most orders a woman gasps while hovering around orgasm sound fairly sexy — I could’ve said “Let’s get pancakes later, Rob” in that voice and it probably would’ve helped him along. But I’m glad he was happy, and it got me to my destination as well.