Advice Column: Fumble In The Friend-Zone

Hey J!

I need your help, your heads up, your advice!

See there is this girl. We are like best friends, hang out all the time, really get along... you get the picture. Now a few weeks back we had a moment and kissed. Since then we enjoyed the company of each other even more. We kissed every once in a while, she spent weekend nights at my place but we never had sex. So yeah I guess we where both quite comfortable with the situation. No strings attached. Simply enjoying our togetherness.

So then we hooked up again, we were at my place and... we had sex. I mean it was not great but not bad either. So as you can imagine things got a little awkward since then. We kinda talked about it, she promised me that she doesn't regret what she did and we decided we will still be friends with the occasional hook up, but no sex!

Since then we went separate ways and things are really awkward. We try to be normal but somehow it's not at all.

J! Help me out here, what can I do? I mean, I think I would like to hang out with her again and stuff so buddy need your advice

Regards
whatcanIdo?


　
Dear WhatcanIdo,

J-Wunder asked me to take this one, because he is currently riding a bus from his shanty in the East Bay to San Francisco, like a Tijuana Hooker on her way to her first donkey show - all because of the goddamn BART strike. And I am pretty sure he is wanted in connection with those deaths on the BART, so if we don’t hear from him for a few days, well, um yeah. But just like any 3rd rated donkey show, it must go on.

I love when we get emails a la ‘Sweet Valley High,’ because it reminds me of a kinder, gentler time; before snap chat, dick pics, pussy shots, and whatever else we can think of sending electronically in this day and age. Your email read like the sweetest Dear Abby letter and I am going to try to be as nice as possible when I tell you what I am about to tell you:

Until you are both grown ass people who can handle it when you do grown folks business, don’t do that shit. EVER. You should have left it at some smoochy-smoochy and never gone for the sexy time. Clearly you like this girl and she probably likes you too. Like, LIKE likes you. She probably even liked the fucky-fucky you gave her, but then shit got real. And probably not even that real, but real enough for you to be twisted up like a thong up a fat chicks ass-crack.

I am almost positive you have never seen the movie "When Harry Met Sally," because I know I was only 8 when that shit came out and I think it would be safe to bet that you are under the age of 25. Correct me if I am wrong about your age, but me being wrong is a pretty fucking rare occurrence. The gist of one of the most famous lines of that movie is that guys and girls cannot be friends without trying to slip each other the business, and then when you get your friend-fuck on, someone always catches a case of feelings and then shit gets fucked up. Sounds pretty familiar, no?

Guys and girls need clearly defined boundaries when it comes to any kind of relationship. Hell, most people need boundaries when it comes to dealing with the masses. And you know what you and your little chicky-poo did? You went out and got some blurred lines. But way less catchy than that shit Robin Thicke did (and stole from Marvin Gaye) that I now can’t get out of my goddamn head. You all went and drew a line in the sand, crossed that shit out, drew another one, jumped over it, and now you are all fucked up.

It is very simple, dear heart. If you want to be friends, you can’t fuck. If you want to be fuck buddies, you can’t really be friends, unless BOTH of you have no romantic feelings for each other (do not confuse love with the lust you feel "down there" when you want to get your bang on and don’t want to pick up some gutter slut at a bar). And y’all not catching feelings from riding the P.T.E. out of the friend-zone is about as likely as me not rolling my eyes every time someone says some thing stupid to me at work. That shit just ain’t happening. REAL TALK.

Me thinks you have a case of the feels and that is all fine and dandy, because it’s ok to get butterflies in your tummy that aren’t from liquor shits and late night Taco Bell. Does your lady friend have a case of the feels, too? If so, then go be a couple and do all that romantic couple crap that makes me want to vomit in my scotch, but secretly wish I could find some trick that I like enough to hold hands with in public and leave the lights on during sex. Speaking of sex... if y’all get together you get to bang each other on the regular. Uh, helloooooooo! WINNING! And I bet it won’t even be all awkward and shit. Side note, no matter what your friends tell you, the G-Spot is not a myth. Trust me.

Let me paint you a picture. I am friends with this guy that I have mentioned in previous columns that I call "Hey-Thunder." He’s hot, I am hot, we are both smart-asses that like to drink, like bitches with big boobs, and all kinds of other buffoonery. We are such close friends we have even been known to complete each other’s sentences from time to time. But you know what we don’t do, no matter how awesome our friendship is, how drunk we have gotten together, or how many times he has begged me to take snap chats of his butt-hole? We don’t fuck on each other.

And do you want to know why?

Because even though we both love to fuck, do fucked up shit and a myriad of other things, we value each other as friends, first. That, dear heart, is what we call a grown folks move. No matter how many times we are out together, we know we have to roofie other people, and not each other, if we are looking for a drunk sex-capade. That is what wisdom, maturity, mutual respect, and one of us maybe having some undiscovered STD’s will bring out in a true male/female friendship. Otherwise, it is just one person pretending to be friends with the other person in the hopes that the other person will "like LIKE" them back. Life is not a rom-com and that shit only happens about 23.874% of the time. The rest of the time one person gets butt-hurt and people can’t be friends anymore. And now you have to go find a new person to roofie at the bar.

I could keep going, but I am sobering up and J-Wunder keeps sending me pics of something, asking me if it looks infected. I can only hope it is his big toe, because from what I can see in the grainy pic, I don’t think a penis is supposed to have a toe-nail looking thing on it.

Just remember, it's not  me, it's you.

H-Bomb.com