Hold up We Ain’t Fucking

There’re certain things members of the opposite sex shouldn’t do if they aren’t having sex. And by “not having sex”, I mean don’t be expecting any of the following shit if I haven’t recently stuck my penis in you OR by simply dialing your number, I could currently stick my penis in you…

The Come Over and “Chill” move
Ok, prior to the age of 17 (unless you are/were a broke college student) there is no reason to just be sitting in the house looking at each other unless some fucking is about to take place. If I invite a girl over, who’s not just my homie, trust and believe I fully plan on sticking my penis in her sometime during that visit. Believe it or not, I’m not the only one that feels that way. Just think of all the times you’ve been invited to a dude’s house, thought you were going over for casual conversation, and ended up getting fucked. It seems like “oh, we just hit it off that night.” Sorry to burst your bubble, but he orchestrated that whole visit thinking about the sex or the possibility of it. It’s 2011, the era of Skype and all that jazzy shit; if I want to see you minus fucking, I can just call you. Why the fuck do I need to invite you over, waste my good liquor, and watch a boring ass movie if there’s no chance of getting my dick wet?

Making out for the sake of making out
I don’t know about you, but I’m grown. It’s been a very long time since I’ve embarked on a mean game of kissy face just for the sake of rounding bases. I won’t even kiss a girl if I’m not at least 95% sure it will lead up to fucking within the next 20 minutes. You know how your parents used to tell you not to kiss boys because “kissing leads to other things”? Well, call them and tell them they were right; kissing almost always leads to fucking in Jean DeGrate’s world.

The “I’m home” text
Nothing blows my life more than a random ass 4am, “I’m home. Goodnight,” text. I’m always tempted to reply, “I was sleep, but now I’m wide awake. So fuck you.” I don’t even understand the purpose of the “I’m home” text. Trust me, I’m not sitting around, in the wee hours of the night, holding my phone waiting on you to get home from the club, my crib or where ever else the night has taken you. You’ll never get a response that reads, “Thank Sweet Baby Jesus. Something in my heart told me you might not make it. Lord only knows how I ever made it through the night without getting a confirmation of your safe passage.” Unless that half-drunken text at 4AM says, “I’m home. Come over so I can suck your dick,” JD’s not checking for that shit.

The after 11pm weekday phone call
The possibility of me being awake around 11pm is relatively high no matter what day of the week it is. Shit, I don’t even put my daughter to bed until about 10. Still, I absolutely don’t look forward to that 11 o’clock just shooting the breeze conversation. Any non-emergency, non-the-meanest-story-ever convo should start with, “Hey, are you sleep? Because I’m about to try on this new lingerie, and I was wondering if you would swing through to tell me what you think.”

The “Hey stranger” text or the “Where you been?” call
If you text me, “Hey stranger,” there’s a 1 out of a million chance that you’ll get a response. I honestly don’t believe I’ve ever responded to one, but I’m leaving that possibility open for when a super fine joint I forgot existed decides to hit me up out of the blue. It’s safe to assume if you’ve sent that text, but still haven’t heard from me that chick ain’t you… Sorry. Now, there’s nothing more annoying than answering the phone to, “Where you been?” Did we have plans and I stood you up? I haven’t been out of town, and I’ve been relatively active on FaceBook and Twitter so I haven’t went into recluse mode either. So when asked where I been, I guess I’ve been everywhere but with you… Now get the fuck off my phone with that dumb shit.

I’m sorry; we ain’t fucking so you aren’t privy to such things.
Jean DeGrate has spoken