Dyslexic Lust

There comes a time in every woman’s life that she finds a rare and special relationship (for lack of a better adjective) where two people mutually agree to bone and never make demands, requests, or have expectations, other than some hot monkey loving. The problem arises in that beautiful, mutually beneficial pairing when one person tries to take the FB and make it a BF. Calm your tits ladies, I am not picking on us women, but let’s all drop a truth bomb on ourselves and admit that we do that shit. I like to call this phenomenon Dyslexic Lust. You know you can’t turn a Hoe into a Housewife, so why do women usually want to change that FB into a BF?

Simple.

Because when we get fucked so thoroughly that our toes curl, it also causes our ovaries to tingle and send little thoughtsicles to our brain, screaming at our body to do what ever it takes to make this person stay the night, go to brunch with us and then go see some dumb Rom-Com and cuddle. And that shit is real, so don’t even throw me side eye through your screen and act like you did not just do that shit. On Saturday. You silly bitch.

Fuck all that noise, ladies. I am going to give some unsolicited advice on Dyslexic Lust and how to avoid that shit like the plague, so you can keep that Fuck Buddy goodness going as long as you both want.

First, let me clarify something. There is a difference between Fuck Buddy and Booty Call. A FB is someone that you usually know, and have some sort of friendship-type thing with- also called a “friend with benefits.” A booty call is someone you literally call every once in a while for sex, late at night, probably under the influence. I am talking about the latter. Now that we have that all cleared up, let’s get back to our regularly scheduled fuckery.

I speak from experience on this subject because I have had a wonderful FB for the better part of 2 years. But I almost fucked it up, trying to turn my Hoe into a Husband. My FB is awesome for a few reasons. 1) He is funny as fuck. He makes me laugh so hard I have almost peed my pants. Drunk karaoke? That mother fucker LOVES it. And I love watching him do it. 2) We have soooooooo much in common. i.e. we like to get drunk, watch porn and fuck each other’s brains out. 3) There is no three. Just one and two. And with all that I thought I could take him from FB to BF.

One night, not too long ago, instead of our usual getting a couple of drinks and some taquitos before we boned, we went out on a proper date. And let me just be honest with everyone, IT WAS AWFUL. Take away the few things we like to do (drink and drink), and we were as dry as Joan River’s vajayjay. For two people who have some amazeballs, eyes-rolling in the back of the head sexual chemistry, when we went on a date we were lame. Then we went to his house and had sex. Normally, with us it is the sexual Olympics, this time it was the sexual Special Olympics- that shit was just not right. Afterwards, I tucked my panties in my purse and as fast as I could, scurried the fuck out of there. We never spoke of this night again and thankfully resumed our FB situation where we hang out, get drunk and do things to each other that would make a goat throw up.

I had to realize that the only thing this fucker could do for me was, well, fuck me. I had to get real with myself for a minute and aks myself some tough questions. Would I take this guy home to meet my parents? Maybe, because he is a funny fucker. Would I be able to stand him for more than a few hours? Probably not. And then I had what alcoholics call a moment of clarity. One time after some good boning, I looked at him and said, “ I don’t even really like you that much, as a person.” And I thought back to that moment and realized that this guy was so not the one for me, for the long term.

I know some of us single ladies are looking for “the one”, but just because the guy can give you a major case of the O face, does not mean you need to pick out china patterns and start thinking about baby names. And if down the road, you two look at each other with eyes not clouded by sex and think that shit could work out between you two, then do it to it. But if you both are only down to bone, then be all about being down to bone and don’t try to make a square peg fit into a round hole. Fuck that shit like it is the last piece of ass you are going to get and when it is time to move on, high five each other, say “Good Game” and peace the fuck out.

Since my last episode of trying to turn my FB into a BF, I have a new mantra in my life, from the Poet/Genius Treach; and I do not “put my heart in a part of a part that spreads apart.” Those are some words to live by.

Now go forth and bang, good people. You are fucking welcome.