Cosmo Teaches Us How to Sext. Thank God.

People are not sending any questions into I'm Not Really a Barista. Obviously, this means that everyone is completely content in their relationships, and/or they decided writing about anal to a stranger on the internet with no verifiable skills other than being snarky and making a latte isn't a great idea.


Either way, I'm sure people will be begging for my advice after I share some of Cosmopolitan's.


Yep, the mag who has been giving 17-year-olds some of the worst sex tips known to man is telling us how to send the HOTTEST TEXT MESSAGES EVA!!


So here you go ladies, try sending one of these bad boys to your significant other, and then when he questions your mental capacity, fire off an email to me.

The 10 Hottest Texts to Send to Send a Guy

At work having very NSFW thoughts about throwing you down on my desk...

I know you're busy today, but can you add one thing to your to-do list? Me.

Just got out of the shower. Why don't you come over and help me get dirty again?

In 30 minutes I'll be getting off. Will you be here to join in the fun?

Wish you were here... [With a picture of your inner thigh or cleavage — without showing anything X-rated.]

Had a very dirty dream about you last night. Let's reenact it tonight.

See if you can decipher this abbreviation: OMG IWUIM

Using one hand to write this text and press the send button. Using the other hand to press MY button...

Practicing yoga poses...totally naked. Wanna see how flexible I am?

Just went to the bathroom at the [bar/party/restaurant] and took off my underwear. One less thing for you to remove tonight...

Hey Cosmo... You do realize that batshit-crazy lawmakers are trying to redefine "personhood" and take all of our reproductive rights away, right? Can we please stop giving them a leg to stand on.


BTW, if you totes want to get a guy to be DTF via text, how about you try this doozy: Wanna bang? 


Jeez, no wonder Snooki is a best-selling author.


P.S. I guess everyone thinks Cosmo's sex advice is dumb as fuck. Watch this guy get his dick assaulted. 

I Tried Cosmo's Sex Advice—Wow, My Penis Hurts! (But the Mango Was Nice...) - watch more funny videos      

I'll Take my Party Minus the Passion

She's not winking. She has
cinnamon lube in her eye.

I'm taking this Thursday off from giving unqualified relationship/sex advice to write about a trend I've noticed lately. Does anyone know what a Passion Party is?

For those who have been spared from this shit and have no clue what I'm talking about, I'll give you the CliffNotes version. It's like Tupperware parties, except with fake dicks, instead of burpable plastic containers. Yep, it is as horrible as it sounds.

However, these Passion Party people are not in the business to make this completely skeevy activity seem skeevy... No, they want it to sound fun and sexy. They make it appear like some Sex-and-the-City-esque adventure that will involve drinking cosmos and trying on nipple clamps. But in all actuality, it involves drinking Arbor Mist out of Nascar tumblers in someone's doublewide trailer, while some pushy bitch on commission tries to make you by a 12" double-ended dildo in front of your sister-in-law. And no one needs a 12" double-ended dildo. It's just wasteful.

Now I'm going to say something that may make me sound slightly judgmental, (because before this, I seemed like the beacon acceptance) but I've never actually attended a Passion Party. So in all fairness, my views are based on second-hand accounts, but I don't think I need to go sit in a room with a bunch of  my co-workers, while I peruse clitoral stimulation cream, to know that it would be a no-likey situation.

She couldn't cross her legs tighter.

My best friend who is possibly the most sexually-open person I've ever met (An example you ask... she recently divulged to me that she has given and received a golden shower, believe me now?) explained that she felt that her vagina was compromised during these parties. Like at any moment, one of these frustrated soccer moms was going to furry handcuff her to a bed and shove a zebra-print ballgag in her mouth.

So why am I writing this? Well, I'm sick of being asked to these fucking parties. Just because I talk about blowies on the internet, does not mean that I want to watch anyone try on a One Size Fits All thong. I will not go. I'm wise to you, passion party ladies. I don't want to buy a vibrating rubber ducky from you in someonse's living room. Nor, do I want to fake an orgasm When-Harry-Met-Sally-style, while someone whose name I don't remember takes an iPhone video. No Thanks.

Call me a prude, but I like to keep my passion where it belongs... hidden in my nightstand drawer.