Makin' no bones about it & falling flat
Dear Rachel,
I love the way you write, and you have published several of my questions in the past. I was just starting a fire with the Telegraph and came across one you wrote last April called “Dishing it out, withdrawal and getting boned.” I have some ideas about that last part, which I was going to share, but decided it might not be appropriate. Anyway, I think you can guess, and I’m sure you get plenty of offers (pink heart emoji).
– Bill T
Dear Mr. T,
Since you’re dishing it, bub, I presume you can take it: get yerself ready for some withdrawals. Because this is NOT how you get to bone anybody, except whichever hand you’re not using to attempt punctuating your letters (Presuming you’re using one hand to type at all and not using… oh god, this would explain SO MUCH). Why do men think that leading with “I want to bone you,” or even, “I want to bone you, but I won’t say so, because it might not be appropriate” will ever work? Give enough monkeys enough time with enough typewriters, and not even they will bang out a scenario where that proposition sounds enticing. When you lead with that, you’re telling me that all you have to offer me is your bone. Not your wit (if any), not your charm (if possible), not your money (as if) or your personality (such as it is).
If all I’m getting is a bone, I am sure as hell not going for one with emotional and bacterial baggage. I’m ordering one online, and it will have more five-star ratings than you do. Also, no amount of innuendo will make me think that an email sent to the generic Telegraph email address, by someone I have never met, who thinks I look like Jennifer Aniston when really, for all he knows, I might have a beard I haven’t shaved in two months, is sexy. It’s not. All you know about me is that I write this column, and that alone should not make me a target of your hard-on. But it does. It’s 2022, ladies and gentlemen and people who are both and neither. And you wonder why feminism is still a thing.
– I need a cigarette, Rachel
Dear Rachel,
I can’t understand why fizzy drinks taste so good when they have bubbles, and so horrendous once they go flat. La Croix doesn’t taste like a pamplemousse anymore, but like artificial flavors. Flat Coke tastes like a convenience store smells. And can you think of anything more gag-inducing than a beer opened yesterday? But all that’s missing are the little tiny bubbles of air that don’t taste like any of these things. What gives?
– Bubble Yum
Dear Popped Bubble,
I apologize: Smacking down Mr. T took up my word count allotment this week. But, I sure can think of something more gag-inducing, so hey, there’s that. And get off your high horse about pamplemousse. You wouldn’t know a pamplemousse if it catcalled you and dry-humped your jeans.
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