59. James’ Charm School for What-The-F*ck Gays OR “James, Why Are You So Prickly?”


A while back, I was having lunch with my friend Jian Li. I was telling her about a date I had gone on where the guy grabbed my hand and kissed it, and I immediately responded with, “Stop it, stop being nice to me, you don’t even know me.” Jian Li laughed and asked me, “James, why are you so prickly?” I’ve been putting some thought into it. I pulled myself aside and asked myself, “James, why are you so prickly? Why wouldn’t you just be nice to the guy who was really nice to you??” Well, hookers, that’s a complicated question. First of all, it’s really annoying to be put on a pedestal. It drives me nuts when a guy just goes goo-goo-gah-gah over me. Like, seriously, bro, you don’t even know me. You just know that I’m cute and funny and tall; I cover your basic list of needs and you just jump in headfirst. That’s so dumb. To these guys, I’m a good fit, because they only have basic needs. But what about what I need? Why don’t you take a second to ask yourself, “Do I have the things that James needs from a partner?” Unfortunately, the answer is usually “no”. But I’m also prickly, because I’ve had so many terrible fucking dates. From the guy who stuck his fingers in my ass in the middle of the street, the guys who drop all their heavy shit on me on the first date and every crazy fucker in between, I’ve had it with these crazy hoes. I’ve even thought of opening up an education center called “James’ Charm School for What-the-F*ck Gays”. So yeah, I’m prickly. Cuz when you’re nice to me, I’m just waiting for you to start doing loud, inappropriate impressions of your Latino neighbors having sex (true story). I always get too excited when a first date goes well, and then something crazy always happens on the next date.

Let’s revisit some of these moments, shall we?
1) The numerous guys who tried to get me to cuddle before the first date. Bitch, I wasn’t born yesterday. You wanna press your weewee against my caboose in the dark and see what happens. Besides, who cuddles before a first date? “No, no, I’m not like that. I just wanna hold somebody.” Well, bro, sorry to break it to you, but that’s fucked up. Get a body pillow! Or call a friend! Wouldn’t you rather press your weiner against someone you know? I could be a serial killer for all you know! I could steal all your shit. Wait, do you have stuff worth stealing? You got some Olive Garden gift cards? Yeah, fuck it, I’ll come over and “cuddle”.
2) The guy who tried to connect with me over “Keeping Up WithThe Kardashians”. I will never know what you’re talking about. I will never watch that show. I’d rather cuddle with a stranger. And then you talked about going to a gay bar for a singalong night called “Musical Mondays”. I WOULD RATHER DO ANYTHING ELSE. I’LL CUDDLE NINE STRANGERS IF YOU STOP TALKING.
3) The guy who asked me what my dick looked like. I was tempted to respond, “You know how when you put a hot dog in the microwave too long and it explodes on one end? It looks like that.”
4) The guy who told me I was losing my hair. Yeah, it’s whores like you that make me pull it all out.
5) The guy who after we hooked up pointed at my body acne and said, “Are you okay?”
6) The guy suffering from word-vomit and couldn’t stop talking. Here were topics he covered: he told me what steroid testicles look like, he showed me his AmEx card, he told me how much his rent was, he told me every show he’s ever done. I asked him to be quiet for a moment, and then I looked upwards and yelled, “GOD, WHAT HAVE I DONE TO DESERVE THIS TORTURE?!” Then I said, “Sorry, keep going. This is riveting!!”
7) The guy who kept rubbing his weiner against me while we were cuddling. I turned over so he would stop, but then he started rubbing his weiner against my spine. Then his roommate came home. Thank God; some respite! I started to talk to her, but then I felt him reach his toes across the couch until they were tickling my balls. Sir, must I tell you that it is inappropriate to fondle me while your roommate watches in horror? Also, toes?!
8) The guy who told me the elaborate story about how he took a straight guy’s gay virginity. I think he thought I was laughing at his “hilarious” story when I was actually intentionally trying to choke myself with my dinner so I could pass out and go to the hospital and meet a hot doctor who would peek under my hospital gown. Oh no, that last part is fucked up….
9) The guy who told me on the first date that he was still married. To a woman.
10) The guy who was short.
11) All the guys who I had “good” first dates with, and then we hooked up at the end of the date and they were suddenly “busy” for the rest of their lives. You know what, guys?! My mom says I’m a great kisser, and everyone loves when I scream with their dick in my mouth! They say it feels awesome, and it always makes me the most popular boy at EVERY work party!
12) The real kicker. The guy who told me I would never succeed in my career and that I should pursue a different path. You think that after he said that I would’ve gotten up, delivered a self-rigethous, “How dare you,” or a “What nerve!” And then I would’ve dramatically slapped him and left. Right? That’s exactly what I did except that I dated him for an entire year.
13) This wasn’t a date. My old friend was visiting the city, and he sent out a mass text letting everyone know that he’d be in town. I got super excited, because I really missed seeing this person and I wanted to catch up. I was feeling a little down, and I felt like hanging out and giggling would be the perfect remedy! This was our text interchange verbatim:
Him: This is James right? I’m in les [lower east side].
Me: You’re a les. Yes it’s me.
Him: Where are you? Let’s go out!
Me: I’m going somewhere to the upper west side later.
Him: Fun. Well I’m horny are you free after haha
Me: Are you kidding me
Him: Not really
…you motherfucker. You are the fucking worst. I was genuinely excited to see you. I had a bunch of fucked up dates, and I was sick of feeling like a piece of fucking meat. So I thought catching up with an old friend would be soul-soothing. BUT I WAS SO WRONG. Do I want to have sex with you? Absolutely not. I’m not just a hole to be stuffed, you whorebag bitchlicker. I needed a fucking friend, and you wanted to spit on my butthole. Also, we hooked up one time in college. ONCE. And it was so awful that I threw you some tissue and told you to have a ball. If I wanted to endure that immensely enjoyable experience once more, I would just go to my kitchen and slam my barely semi-hard dick in the refrigerator door eight times. I suggest you do the same.
Alright, Jian, you win. I’m prickly. But do you blame me? I’m looking for some retribution from all these wretched dates, and I just get crazier and crazier people! And then when I go to a male friend for comfort, they offer me their Twizzler-dick to dry my tears? It’s all bullshit. So yeah. I’m prickly. I’m a fucking cactus. SO STOP TRYING TO STICK YOUR DICKS IN ME.
“All the bullshit’s for the birds. You ain’t nothin’ but a vulture.”
~”Deuces” by Chris Brown


Dear men: be more like her. Thanks.



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