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Recipient: Probably overcompensates; asks her friends “what it all means.” The Sexter Sample texts: “What are you wearing? ” curious whether the answer is Betsey Johnson or Alexander Wang. Jeff Wilser is the co-author of the upcoming It’s Okay to Sleep With Him on the First Date: And Every Other Rule of Dating, Debunked. No straight guy has ever texted “What are you wearing? Then the exact same text will be viewed as sketchy.” I scrambled to figure out which part of my pro-sauce soliloquy he was referring to.(If you are ever going to ask a woman to be your FWB in this exact same way, please be more specific than this guy was.) Eventually he not-so-smoothly brought up barbecue sauce and dicks, which led to us joking around and him saying, “haha we should do that sometime.” Reader: We did not do . There’s a risk—more perceived than real—that you’ll irrevocably ruin a friendship and be branded as a massive weirdo if you admit you’d be down to hook up with a friend of yours.But the text did open the door for us to fuck, which was the actual goal of the whole conversation. I’ve had a few friends-with-benefits situations, and I can tell you that no one way of bringing this up is going to make you feel like you’re not doing something potentially disastrous.But let me assure you that it’s normal to want casual sex; a lot of people are going to be similarly thrilled with the idea. They probably aren’t going to be scandalized by it.WHENA friends-with-benefits talk should happen only after sex has already happened once—asking before there’s been any mutual acknowledgement of sexual interest is a bit too bold, and is more likely to land you in an uncomfortable situation.

No big deal if you’re not into that, though, just wanted to be up front!Cause I just dodged a bullet from a crazy bitch I stuck to my guns, that's what made me rich That's what put me on, that's what got me here That's what made me this And everything that I do is my first name These hoes chase bread, aw damn, she got a bird brain Ain't nothin' but trill in me, aw man, silly me I just bought a crib, three stories, that bitch a trilogy And you know I'm rollin' weed that's fuckin' up the ozone I got a bitch that text me, she ain't got no clothes on And then another one text, then your ass next And I'm gonna text your ass back like I don't fuck with you You lil stupid ass bitch, I ain't fuckin' with you You lil, you lil dumb ass bitch, I ain't fuckin' with you I got a million trillion things I'd rather fuckin' do Than to be fuckin' with you, lil stupid ass I don't give a fuck, I don't give a fuck I don't, I don't, I don't give a fuck Bitch, I don't give a fuck about you, or anything that you do Don't give a fuck about you, or anything that you do Got a million things on my mind, executive deals online Limited amount of time, chasin' these dollar signs and you ain't on your grind You liable to find me up in the MGM casino in the D Fuckin' off fetti I coulda put on property From the Bay to the Murder Mitten, my niggas put murder missions She choosin', that's her decision, free my niggas in prison On the phone with a bitch who can't do shit For a pimp but make a nigga hella rich Got a blunt in my dental, goin' HAM in a rental On my way, to Sacramento, late night, Arsenio I'm never sentimental, go hard or go homeless Barely Harley, I'm chromeless, you might end up domeless I bet you she into me, her cheddar, she givin' me I'll make a bitch stand outside forever like the Statue of Liberty Rest in pimp, Pimp C, underground king of the South I raise my Styrofoam up, and pour some drank in my mouth Why you always coming around with bad news? (Phone is too invasive, e-mail is too taxing, IM is too 2003.) Part of the problem is structural. Louis, where citizens consume almost twice as much barbecue sauce per capita as the average person—and I claimed that I would eat barbecue sauce off someone’s dick.(I’m cringing, too, don’t worry.) “In fact,” I lamented, “why don’t people incorporate barbecue sauce in the bedroom more? ”After a bit, we moved on from barbecue sauce, but later that night I got a text from one of my friends saying, “Were you serious about the barbecue sauce thing?

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