Look, if we’re talking me, myself, and my right hand?
Daily. Sometimes twice.
Oversharing!
You walked into this. But if we’re talking actual, shared, mutually participatory sex… three months…ish.
THREE MONTHS?!
You don’t have to type it like that. It looks loud.
BECAUSE IT IS LOUD.
It’s not like I had a choice.
What do you mean? You had a girlfriend.
Chloe always had an excuse. Too tired. Too busy. A migraine. Tummy issues. Not in the mood. Maybe later.
Oof.
So, yeah. Three months of me and the five-fingered discount.
That is both hilarious and so sad.
Thanks. That really helps.
Now it’s your turn.
Nope.
TF.
I decline.
I did my time. Nowspill.
…
Oh, this is bad.
It’s not that bad.
How long?
Just under a year.
HOW ARE YOU ALIVE??
Shut up.
No, seriously. Do I need to check on you? Send you a care package?? With you know…toys?
Or one of those singing telegrams but with a “happy ending?”
It’s not THAT bad!
Almost a year is absolutely THAT bad.
