Our girl who has mastered the art of counter-negging is back again, and this time, things just get really weird, really fast.
Him: I'm looking at your shizz. How into jeezo are you?
Her:
are you suggesting that i look like a lesbian?
only really on the weekends.
Him: Are you
suggesting that cause Jesus wore birkenstocks he looked like a lesbian
and that I'm gauging your sexuality by your willingness to scissor
Jesus?
Her: no. i just thought you meant jizz. [...] there are only really two ways for this conversation to go from here: awkward or hilarious.
Him:
If this somehow works out, we'll have to take the "how they met" to our
graves. You can tell me all you want about your feelings towards jizz
but I'm pretending to be a gentleman here and you're making it hard
(ZING).
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