I do not know what is wrong with American guys nowadays. Like, you message someone you are having a girls’ night out and he sends you a message back saying: “Yeah baby, send me a lot of pics of you and your drunk girlfriends!!!!”
Boy, you don’t even know me like that! You ain’t paying money for my girl on girl site, you ain’t never taken me to dinner and you never met me before. How you gonna ask for pics of me and my girlfriends? It would be different if we met at a bar, while our mixed chinchilla group is having a great time and you buy a round of shots for everyone and ask us to pose for you. If the girls are game, I’m game too. I’ll even do the fake lesbian thing if you are cute enough. But over the phone???!!! You are barking up the wrong skirt Chucky!
I wish Chucky the SMS-happy guy was the only one because I would have dropped his patootie in a second. Unfortunately, he is an improvement before Fireguy who was a true firefighter and had me all on fire with his messages until he sent me a nekkid pic of hisself out of the shower. Haven’t you heard of the shrink factor??? If you ain’t got it, please don’t flaunt it! Big nono. This is the only time when you don’t show your banana muchacho otherwise the girl swings over to the next little monkey in big town who has the sense to keep his banana unpeeled until it is truly needed.
Well, I do not know what happens to men and cameras nowadays. In the beginning, I thought the girls were the worst culprits showing their boobies and whatnot, but no, the guys will show it all, the sausage and two veggies, the banana with nuts (and sometimes without). In the beginning I used to not know what to do (If you turn your camera off immediately, it shows you’ve had it swinging in your face before, so don’t get all virginny on me now) so I would just sit and stare and blush to my ears.
I mean, they obviously had something to work out and I was the unfortunate spectator. I mean camera ads three or four inches anyway and boy, did they need it. I mean I was disgusted and fascinated, until pretty soon I was just disgusted. Now I’ve learned how to tell them spot on so I cut them off before both of us get embarrased.
I never liked taking pictures of me or even doing on-camera performance. I never liked sexting either, but it appears to have become the new predictable trend, that everybody knows but me. I think they should put out a monthly, something that says: “Yeah, beware. If you tell people you are going to bed they tell you they wished they were there with you and ask you if you are wearing the edible red thong.” I am in the bed by myself dummy why do I need the thong? How about “I am wearing my flannel longsleeved pijamas with yellow ducks?” How is your flag holding its drooping head now, huh?
Anyway, I suddenly got the urge for the “Family Guy” theme song. Hate the show, love the song. And my beautiful wine sloshing in my stomach indignantly.