KS taught me in high school, playing Higgins to my Eliza Doolittle. Over time, though, we became intimate. I now wonder about the moral and legal boundaries of that experience.
You have to give it up for millennials. We’re ready to ignore our instincts and let one feature of a transportation app decide who we go on a date with.
Women have, over the course of history, invented a “weird excuse jar” to get out of sex. Everything from “You look like my paediatrician”, to “Jesus is watching” has been used by the sisterhood of the travelling I-don’t-feel-like-taking-my-pants-off.
Friends with benefits is an amazing concept – in theory. Everyone loves sex with no strings attached, but in reality, it rarely works without leaving its scars on your emotional psyche. By the end, you’re left with way too many harrowing questions and no one left to answer them.
Being honest on Tinder and Hinge is like sitting down for the national anthem in the cinema hall: No one expects it, and when they see it for the first time, they usually lose their shit.
For those who come from the “Ooooh, we like the same things” school of thought, please go back to school. Shared interests is the dumber, less bitchy younger brother of “shared hate” and is less efficient as a dating mechanism.
Dear Dev.Ds, we fell for you; we wanted to be the ones who changed you. We wanted to make your darkness evaporate. But we should have known better. You were never going to change, and we would end up losing ourselves.