For most of my twenties, I was willing to make do with whatever situation a guy had going on in his room. I knew that a man without a bed frame was a worthless, lazy piece of shit who wouldn’t be a good boyfriend or a good lay, but I figured it was my duty as a chill cool girl to look past this character flaw in the moment and then joke about it online. But as I’ve gotten more mature, I realized that men without bed frames simply aren’t worth my time. Which is why I no longer put up with their atrociously immature asses, and instead regularly do sex with actual bed frames.
My bed frame, a bed frame in a store, a bed frame at someone else’s place, it really doesn’t matter. I can ride a bed frame, hump a bed frame, and even insert the leg of a bed frame into myself for whatever kind of pleasure I’m seeking in the moment, and when I’m done, the bed frame doesn’t ask me if I want to see his improv group or band perform. Have you ever dated someone who had a creative hobby? It’s literal hell on Earth and should be punishable by death.
Bed frames don’t forget to text you back, they don’t give you a lecture on something they half-remember hearing about on a podcast, and they certainly don’t force you to examine your own behaviors and thought patterns that lead you to engage with people you end up disliking. Bed frames ask nothing and give everything, and they make it so you can store old shoeboxes full of mementoes under your bed. Win-win!
If you’re ready to move on from losers and start your sexual journey with bed frames, allow me to suggest a little patience, a lot of lube, and most importantly, a can-do attitude. Because you CAN fuck a bed frame. Just like you CAN choose who you go out with. You have agency, babe!
And if you don’t have a bed frame? Okay, seriously, get one, they’re not expensive and you’re an adult.
