Boone has a problem with women.
BOONE: But she's on her way over!
He treats them like Netflix movies.
BOONE: Dude, I cannot be reforming my life right now. I haven't gotten laid in hours!
ME: That doesn't--you measure it in HOURS?
He uses them, maybe watches them, maybe doesn't, then leaves them on his fridge until he remembers to send them back.
BOONE: This girl's been in my que forever!
ME: Wow, I really was on target with that metaphor.
ME: Never mind. The point is, I'm trying to make you a better straight man, and I can't do that if you're being a manwhore who makes girls come over his house at 3am.
BOONE: Nobody's MAKING anybody. She wants to come.
ME: That's because girls like to believe they can have sex like boys.
BOONE: With penises?
ME: With no emotional attachment. Damn you, Kim Catrall.
Luckily, Boone sent me the booty text by accident, so I was in intervention mode immediately.
BOONE: Please just let me be bad for just one night.
ME: Boone, what if Elizabeth Gilbert had stopped at Eat? Then the book wouldn't be called 'Eat, Pray, Love' it would just be called 'Eat: A Woman Gets Fat in Italy and Dies Alone.'
That was when the doorbell rang.
BOONE: Kev, she's a gymnast.
ME: You're making that up.
BOONE: She could be a gymnast. I could help her.
I opened the door to find the cutest little college sophomore ever.
ME: You filthy slut.
KENDRA: Um, did I agree to a threeway and not realize it?
ME: Look at yourself.
KENDRA: I'm sorry! The window was down and my hair got all kooky when I went on the highway.
ME: I mean your dignity!
KENDRA: I can't look at that. It's a metaphor.
ME: It's actually--never mind. Now look, this boy calls you over to his house at 3am and you go knowing full well he's going to use you for sex and then send you home and you're okay with that?
KENDRA: Um, we were going to watch Jersey Shore too before we--
I slammed the door in her face.
ME: That's why I stopped taking female students.
BOONE: Now what am I supposed to do?
ME: Write that girl an apology e-mail and delete her number from your phone. From this point on, until you're a good man, you're celibate.
Tough love, kids.
It hurts me more than--
Nah, it hurts him way more.