I’m a faceless nobody on the Internet and oh my goodness I know how you feel. I am so alone. I can’t unsee everything. I am a woman and I am not a person according to this life. Girl babies thrown out with trash acid in the face of a girl wanting to learn to read seventy cents for every dollar the men make rape is…

The closest I’ve ever come to sexting was when a vague acquaintance semi-jokingly asked me to talk dirty to her online. I started talking about “my long, hard salami,” which, as I went on, became obvious was not a metaphor. So I spent some time talking about actual, literal salami, the traditional manufacturing…

This was when predictive text had been a thing for a while, and me and my brothers were trying to get my dad to use it as it was so painful to watch his slow texting. He acquiesces, sort of, but one day storms intoy room shouting that “the phone won’t write what I tell it to write”. I go “oh let me show you...” and…

Oh... oh no.

I have been waiting all my life to share these (disturbing) sexts with the Internet. I knew I saved them for a reason. They are from a dude I met at a party 5 years ago and he sent them to me out of the blue one Saturday morning. I was NOT DOWN to get them.

Mr. Fox tried sexting me from work one day, and I sent this gif telling him I was hungry for his

...Actually kind of proud of this? For me, it’s sort of like I’m 2 and I just shit in the toilet for the first time, and I want everyone to see and be proud of me.

“Come in me” was a random text I got from an ex and I was EXTREMELY concerned that I might be dating closeted gay dude for a solid two minutes. However, he meant to say “come to me” which made way more sense given that my initial text was asking where he was and his previous text was him telling which bar he was at.

Dude I sometimes have fun with. I wasn’t aware my tits needed to be fucked properly till he told me. I found out 4 days later he had a brand new girlfriend. Hence the emojii name.

Is it allowed to be intentionally stupid?

I fucking love the idea of using Socratic Questioning in the style of cognitive-behavior therapy in sexting. I’m just gonna ask you questions until you reach the conclusion I’d like you to reach; it’s much more salient if you’re able to get there on your own.

All the showers in the world won’t wash that blood off your hands, buddy.

And then there’s great piece of video editing:

I have two from my cousin:

I am using “peanut grease” on my wine-consoisseur aunt someday.

I fucking love all of this today.

When I reached ice water lady I put my head gently on my desk and started quietly groaning. I got better after a few minutes, but I can’t help but feel that I avoided some kind of hypertension disorder.

Ugh, coffee marketing. When I lived in Oz in the early noughties, the SOP for coffee shops was to have cappucino on the menu, and signify a LARGE 2x shot/higher volume foam cappucino in a mug by calling them a mugaccino. Bet this is where those tools get it.

Not an allergy request but a ridiculous coffee request. At one cafe where I used to work, we kept the milk and cream behind the counter and would pour it in for the customer ourselves unless they asked to do it. One woman asked for me to make her coffee “about your color.” Because I’m neither coffee nor milk, I have…