The following just took place via text, with one of my best friends in the city. It started with his complaint about his coworker’s… um, assets.

“Is it socially acceptable to tell a girl, flat-out, that I wish she would put her tits away? It’s horrendously distracting.”

I pondered this.

“Is she hanging off of a brass pole?”

[pause]

“No, what kind of jackass goes to a girly bar for lunch?”

“My ex. And his uber-cool-senate-coworker-types.”

[pause]

“I forgot about that. That’s pretty damn funny.”
[pause]
“I mean… it’s not funny. I’m sorry. “

“S’ok. It’s finally funny to me. He’s still stuck with the potato sack bar girl, who’s gained like 60# since I left him with her.”

“Dayum…”

“Are they at least appealing?”

“Which?”

“The offending mammaries. How are they?”

“They’re nice. Pale. With a tiny tattoo on the left one. She’s not wearing thick enough shirts for the decibel level of her nipples, though.”

“LMAO”

“She’s just so ridiculously titty. I’m sure that’s why she got hired. No one in the department likes her or her bullhorns.”

“What’s her job title? Is she clerical?”

“They hired her as eye candy. And to torture the uninterested, a la moi.”

“So, she’s the Token Titty Taunter?”

“OMFG. Marry me.”

“No.”

“Srsly? Why not?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”
[pause]
“I’m not opposed to legitimate heterosexuality, you know. You’re my favorite feral.”

“Just because.”

“????”

“I’m saving myself for Ann Coulter.”

“ROF I fuckin love you, bitch.”

“I’ll toast to that.”

“You’re writing my eulogy. That’s it. Done deal.”

“Oh good, I could use the exposure.”

“Lol. I’m off lunch, see you later, sweetie. <3″

“Tootlez.”