Today, we’ll discuss communication issues with the opposite sex, particularly texting. One reader asked:

I’m a girl so I clearly like talking. Which nowadays translates into texting: how do I deal w/ guys who take HOURS to respond!? Like I’m just trying to get together maybe have some drinks and have a drunk make out sesh?!

Dear Texting Tanya,

Tip #1: if all you’re looking for is a drunken make-out session then my advice is to put down the phone, head to Dairy Queen, order a chocolate oreo blizzard and offer a ride home to the first attractive teenager who orders a dilly bar. I mean shit, if you’re looking for a hook up you have GOT to do more than just send a couple of text messages.

I mean for fucks sake, in this day and age all a guy has to do is open an app on his phone, slide right (or left? I don’t know how that shit works) and his lobster roll is in your quahog* all before you’ve figured out which emoji best coincides with “What’s up”.

Second: if a guy doesn’t respond to your text within a couple of hours, there’s a reason. That reason is he’s either uninterested, with someone else or he died. If he has even the slightest intention of hooking up with you, homeboy will answer that shit faster than I’d finish that chocolate oreo blizzard. Which brings me to my third and final tip when texting for a hook up..

Never have less than 3 (but no more than 5), dudes in your texting rotation. A texting rotation should include at least one of the following:

1. The guy who will always answer but that you’d never actually hook up with. You should only text him when nobody else is answering and you need confirmation that you aren’t going to die alone or move back in with your parents at 37.
2. The bro you have amazing sex with, but would never actually want to be around sober, because he always finds a way to make you feel like a giant piece of shit. He hits on other girls in front of you, ignores you in public and has no problem telling you when you look fat. Nothing turns you on more than a guy who literally wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire. Hot.
3. The genius who’s amazing in bed but literally too stupid to function. He’s the one that sends texts that make you shudder like, “i mite be their” or “wut u doin 2nite”. The stupidity is enough to make you want to kill yourself but you’re not it in for the vocab, sweetheart.
4. Anyone with a penis.

If none of the above help get the results you’re looking for just send a mass tit pic or I don’t know, meet me at Dairy Queen.

*analogy credit to Bart; the dumb mother-fucker who called me “iralevant” moments before using that gem of a pick up line which I now use whenever possible for both monetary and comedic profit 

All question submissions are kept anonymous and will be answered in a ridiculous fashion that will most likely have nothing to do with what you actually wanted an answer to. 

Hippie and I started an advice column a while back, and some of the questions we got from our followers were hilariously ridiculous. I’ve decided to branch out and begin answering them myself since Hippie is always busy doing whatever it is that Hippie does. I’ll answer questions on Tuesday’s, so feel free to message me anything you’d like my advice on. Yes, I realize today is Friday but I wanted to give you a sneak peek, and also, I do what I want.

P.S. Everything will always be kept anonymous.

GG: I always get really nervous the first time I spend the night with a guy. How do you get passed this enough to enjoy your time together?

I’ve had the pleasure of both meeting and becoming great friends with girls who reside on Cape during the summer months. Most of them are down to earth, come from similar upbringings and have the shared interest of laughing, getting a tan and meeting new people. Taking these lovely women out of the equation, there are also THOSE summer girls that think they’re better than all of us because they have Daddy’s credit card and fancy clothes. This post is for her.

Dear Cunt Nugget,

Welcome to my home. Here, we enjoy things like the sun, sea water, aquatic life, boating, cheeseburgers and flip flops. Just because we like simple things, doesn’t mean we’re simple people.  For starters, we were taught at a very young age that money doesn’t fucking matter. Sure, you need it to feed your family, put a roof over your head and clothes on your back but that’s it. We work to live, we don’t live to work.

When you roll through town in your fancy cars and fast boats, we sit back and question our lives. Not because we’re “jealous” or because we’re “haters” – but because we wonder what life must have been like for someone who grew up thinking you needed to spend money to have fun. Us? We spent our childhood outside organizing manhunt games and playing with sticks. And let me tell you something – I wouldn’t trade it for all the money in the world.

I love watching you troll around our beautiful towns thinking you’re better than us while you have the personality of a clam and the heart of a fucking squid. Sitting back and watching you interact with the guys we’ve known our entire lives that won’t remember your name in the morning is one of my favorites. It’s actually kind of disheartening that you feel the need to throw money around to generate interest when all we have to do is smile and initiate a conversation that doesn’t make him want to kill himself.

Second favorite thing about you? Your go-to conversation starter always somehow ties back to your elaborate winter vacation or fancy job with a 6-figure salary. First off – take a look around, I fucking live where you’re vacationing. Second; anyone who throws a figure out in regards to how much money they make, doesn’t make that much fucking money. Third; no one gives a shit. We came out to get a drink, see our friends and make fun of the circus act that is your life.

I can honestly say that I never cared, understood or thought about price tags until I was old enough to get my license and want a car. Why? Because I was privileged enough to have hard working parents who taught me the importance of work ethic, that family comes first, that a good day is one where the majority of it is spent laughing and that you can’t take money to the grave.

I get so annoyed when people make comments about how “down to earth”, “funny” and “easy to talk to” my friends and I are. I guess it’s a compliment, but not when I take into consideration they only say those things because they’re used to talking to critters like you who bring nothing to the table but an American Express and bad hair.

So to THOSE summer girls, that think it’s cool to “go slumming” and pick up a landscaper from the local bar, or who like to think they have more to offer than us year-rounders: Go home. You’re annoying. And most likely ugly from the inside out. Sorry, babe, but no amount of money can fix that.

Summer people. Some are not.

-GG

After writing Post 1 and Post 2 discussing questions that annoy me as a Cape Cod native, you people went absolutely bat shit and I freakin’ love it. I received a lot of interesting questions you wanted answered, most of which had nothing to do with Cape Cod but were more geared towards my relationship status and your sexual habits – but whatever, I’m a wealth of knowledge so bring it, psychos.

Anyways, today’s annoying Cape Cod question is:

Oh you’re from Cape Cod? Do you know ‘insert name of random stranger I absolutely will not know nor do I care to ask a follow-up question on the off chance that I do’?

Seriously? When I mention I’m from Cape Cod, I could literally be referring to any one of the fifteen towns that cover almost 400 square miles. Do you know how many freaking people live in each of those towns? I sure as shit don’t. I don’t even know how large Cape Cod is. I literally just had to fucking google how many towns are on Cape Cod so I could finish that sentence.

But yes, I most definitely know some rando that you met once who is most likely a summer kid that said he’s from Plymouth which is on the wrong side of the bridge – don’t EVEN get me started on that one.

And on the off-chance I do know the person you’re referring to, I can pretty much guarantee it’s from something embarrassing or whorish I did in my younger years which means I won’t admit I know them, anyway.

It’s pretty much the equivalent of you asking someone from California if they know anyone famous. There’s a small chance they do, medium chance they’re lying and a very large, very great chance they will punch you in the face.

It’s like people assume that since there isn’t jack shit to do in the winter we have some sort of secret society where we all introduce each other by our sea-shell names and eat clams. That actually sounds pretty legit and could possibly be the next Real Cape event.

So I dug deep and gave everyone insight into the complex creature that is a Cape Guy..but what about us Cape girls!? As explained in GG’s Guide to Breaking Down a Cape Guy, we’re not all rainbows and butterflies, but I think we’re pretty fucking awesome. We’re also extremely odd and completely bat shit.

For starters, on most nights, regardless of time or venue, you can never really tell if we’ve just come off the boat, rolled out of bed or are about to head to the beach. But for some weird reason, we pull it off better than Baby Spice brought back pig tails.

Don’t get me wrong, we’re not grubby or anything, it’s just that we mostly likely really did just come off the boat or from the beach and we learned at a very young age that the only makeup you need is a tan. We were taught how to carry a conversation and light up a room with our personality. Also, we don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks of us because 9 times out of 10, anyone worth talking to we grew up with and already thinks of us as their sister. And in the off chance you meet someone new that’s worth talking to, he’s not going to care that you’re wearing jean shorts and a t-shirt instead of a skin tight mini dress and heels with a face full of makeup. In fact, you’d probably get punched in the throat if you wore a mini dress and heels anywhere on Cape Cod. Ever.

We’ll do anything for anyone. I learned that this sometimes scares guys off in the beginning of a relationship, because they don’t understand that we most likely spent our young adult lives helping our friends raise their children or babysitting for extra cash. We’re so used to taking care of everyone else that it seems wrong not to. Soo to the guy that gets “weirded out” that a Cape girl always remembers to have your favorite snacks on hand or texts you a “hope you have a nice day!”: die. Or date someone from, I dunno, Woburn – those bitches would slash your tires before they’d make you a home cooked meal.

We’re incredibly sweet and friendly but won’t hesitate to knock someone out if they disrespect those we love. On a normal day I’m refined, professional and painfully polite. I’ve literally had people ask me to stop saying “thank you”. But I hear you speak badly about a family member or get loud with one of my girlfriends? Hide yo kids and hide yo wife ’cause the Glitter Ginger is about to go buck wild on your ass. I am by no means tough, in fact most of us aren’t, but I refuse to sit back and watch you speak to someone I love with anything but respect. **Shout out to my paralegal 

Which brings me to my next point; we’re the most feminine tomboy’s you’ll ever meet. We demand to be treated like a lady but can go beer for beer, bait a hook and kick your ass in wiffle ball. We’re the girls that you call when you want to hang out and have effortless fun. We don’t care if you fart or burp in our presence as long as it’s not on us and hate being doted on. But you better open my damn door and at least attempt to leave the room or aim in the other direction when passing gas. That’s just plain respect, brotha. Which transitions to..

..A Cape Girl will literally give anybody a shot. This is a characteristic that none of my city friends understand. It’s not that they’re snobby or judgmental, it’s just that I guess they have a hard time seeing past the dirt, minor criminal record and potentially negative bank account balance when it comes to dating men. I’ve dated everything from carpenters to business professionals to mechanical engineers to landscapers and the straight up unemployed – anyone who makes me laugh and holds the door for me deserves a shot.

Every time I come home I’m reminded by the people around me that money isn’t everything and first impressions aren’t always what they seem. Chances are, the dirty guy at the end of the bar drinking a beer by himself most likely just got off his 12th day in a row of making someone’s house a home and building/creating things that I couldn’t even fathom. That, or he’s a heroin addict that will probs hit on you, call you a stuck up bitch when you ignore his passes and follow you home, but whatever. If he makes you laugh look past the track marks.

I’m kidding. Unless he’s good looking then at least let him buy you a beer before you call the Cops or tell your brother to save you.

So in closing, what I’m trying to say, is that you’re pretty damn lucky if you have a Cape Girl in your life. Whether she’s your girlfriend, wife, friend or just an acquaintance – I can guarantee she’ll always make you laugh, drop everything to be at your side in a moment of need and will always be in your corner. She’ll build you up when you’re down and make you feel like the most important and valued man in the world – all while looking adorable in your sweatpants, a pony tail, crushing a beer and laughing so hard that you forget why you were upset in the first place.