This is a sad state of affairs, when an attractive sexually alluring young woman cannot get her body touched because her bedmate(s) aren't texting back. Once upon a time, in a land far from here [translation: 3 years ago in California], being FWB was a business agreement with contracts of mutual respect and unspoken rules both parties followed. Like, p r o m p t responses!
I'm frustrated, fLUSTered and rabid as hell. I'm not okay with this. And knowing me, as I do, even when one of these boys do text back, I'll be sure to make h i m wait, thus extending my wait time. Gggrrrrrr. There's no justice! Why can't a guy be dependable? This is why I don't date, I can't trust a guy to be a man of his word-- hell, I'm having trouble finding a m a n in the first place.
Sonofabetch! What kind of guy cock blocks h i m s e l f?! Not to mention Casanova's a man-whore, so why isn't he man-whoring himself to ME?! [background on Casanova is at A.C.]The longer I think about it the more irritated I get, because none of this adds up or makes sense. When I see Casanova again, I'm punching him in the clavicle.
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