What is up, Daddy Gang? It is your founding father, Alex Cooper with Call Her Daddy. Daddy Gang, welcome to another episode of Call Her Daddy. It is Valentine's Day, you little fucking whores. And I promise you, if you are ugly crying in your bed right now, sobbing, snot is coming out, your dog is in the corner, terrified, why is mommy having a fucking mental breakdown? Because he didn't call and he didn't text. And my situationship didn't ask me if he wanted to go out with me so that I could fuck him on V-day and I'm alone forever. It's fine, okay? It's completely fine. I fucking hate, I hate I despise this holiday because it's so fucking stupid. I don't know what's dumber, New Year's or Valentine's Day, you tell me. I guess I would say Valentine's Day just because New Year's, you get off of work for. Valentine's Day, you sit at your desk, you sob. Your boyfriend, either A, didn't get you what you wanted, B, is a fucking fuckboy, or C, he got you everything you wanted and you just fucking hate him and you realize you don't want to be with him.

If you are in love over there, keep it to your fucking self, okay? I'm not going to be talking about how in love I am with Matt today. My Valentine's Day gift to you is a story time about Valentine's Day from The Vault. Now, something about telling old stories from my last time of when I was a degenerate and addicted to the toxic. I've seen a couple comments, some Brads and Chads, but what are the version of Brads and Chads for women? Angela's and Karen's have been winding in my comments like, Alex, Why are you telling these stories? Matt's going to be so insecure, and he's going to be so upset that you're talking about sucking another man's dick and deep-throating the life out of him. First of all, no. Honestly, yes to deep-throating. No to Matt getting upset. Thank you for your concern. I do just want to let you know that Matt and I are thriving. And even if we weren't, why do you fucking care? You know what I mean? All you need to worry about any time you tune in to call our daddy is that I'm here to entertain you.

So some weeks, yes, I may tell you about my wonderful healthy relationship with my fiance, who I love truly so much. But other weeks, we also may take it back to life before Matt, and that's okay. That's when people in relationships and want to pretend like, I don't want to hear about your And it's like, okay, insecure bitch. Why? And it's like, I don't want to hear. Don't tell me. It's like, we can be mature. Matt knew he was marrying me, and I was a psychopath. And he fell in love with me because of my storytelling ability. Whether it's his dick or another, he said, Sweetie, I want a house in Malibu. Get us that coin. Let's go. Anyways, I want to talk about some absolutely unhinged and insane, just things that I did in the So Daddy Gang, buckle up, because I'm about to tell you the worst Valentine's Day that I ever had in my entire life. Let's get into it. So it was Valentine's Day, We're going back four years, and I was in the process of rekindling the flame with an ex-boyfriend. And by that first sentence alone, Daddy Gang, a little teaching lesson here, you can probably already guess it's going downhill, okay?

Because when has it ever been a good idea to get back with an ex? Period. Full stop. When has it ever been a good idea? Never. Especially when they cheated on you. But just in general, getting back with an ex, it's going to be a no for me, dog. You know what I mean? It's never going to work. I don't know anyone who has ever ended a relationship and gone back, and it ended in a happy love story. Don't write in if it's happened to you. I really don't care, okay? The point is, don't go back to an ex. But to top it all off, getting back together with an ex around Valentine's Day, that's just fucking mental. That's insane. But I was young, and I was dumb, and I was naive. And my ex and I at this point... So we started talking, and I will say we were probably talking and having sex for a few months at this point. And things were pretty decent, I will say, in my life. To give context, I had started to call her Daddy around this time. So I was bringing just a complete different energy to the relationship from the last time that we dated.

Back in the day, most of the men that I was, you could say dating, fucking, attracted to, seeking out, they always had more money than me. Was it strategic? Sure, yeah. What do you want to say? That's on you to context clues here. But I was always dating men with more money, and they were usually more successful than me. So I felt like I always had to play by their rules a little bit, right? I went into this relationship with a different fucking attitude because I didn't need this motherfucker's money or status. I had my own fucking shit going on. Ladies, reminder, it's not about how much money you have, but it is about knowing you have your own fucking shit to the right. So if he swerves on the left, you're fucking good to go, okay? You're not left in the desk, left in the desert, crying your eyes out with nothing to your fucking name, okay? But I didn't know that at the time, so I did cry and cry my eyes out. Valentine's Day rolls around. And so naturally, he offers to fly me out to see him so that we can spend this very, very dumb romantic holiday together, and we were going to have a romantic weekend.

And And what made it even more romantic was the fact that we couldn't leave the house that he was renting. And no, Daddy Gang, I know you're probably thinking, damn, Alex, we never took you for a romance, gal. I can't believe it. You guys were just so into each other. You missed each other so much. You missed that embrace of each other, the comfort, the company of each other. You couldn't bear leave the bed, let alone leave the house, okay? You just wanted to fuck each other His brains out. I'm here to say that wasn't actually the case at all. That's not why we didn't leave the home, Daddy Gang. It was as if I was on house arrest, more like. I couldn't leave the house and be out in public with him because the real reason was the New York Post Times, the Times would never report on that. The New York Times wrote a note. The New York Times write an article. No, the New York Post, page 6, had recently leaked that we were seeing together at some party making out potentially. And again, this breakup was so fucking nasty, you guys.

So bad that our families were dead set against us, never seeing each other again. They despised each other. So we didn't want this little Valentine's Day trip to get out. I don't think there's a bigger red flag than hiding a relationship from your friends and your family. It's definitely a thrill. Oh, we love the thrill of it. But that's a red flag, Daddy Gang. So I get onto the plane and I arrive at the home that he rented for the two of us. And I got there with a plan. I really wanted to spice things up sexually and really, I wanted to shock this man, because by the end of our relationship, we had really gotten complacent. And I wanted to start this new chapter off with a bang. I really wanted to remind him what I was capable of. So it's Valentine's Day night. We aren't leaving the house. He has roses and candles and balloons delivered. He has a chef come cook us dinner. The vibes were flowing. Now, this ex of mine was a stoner. And at the time, since we had broken up, my tolerance had fucking dipped. I take one hit of a bong, I'm going to be fucking liddy-titty out of my mind.

Big Al could not hang like she used to. So after dinner, he takes a bong rip, and he multiple massive hits, and he hands me the bong, and I join right in. And pretty soon after we smoke, I'm straddling him on top of the couch. We are aggressively making out. It's like that feeling when you just cannot get enough of each other. Everyone doesn't want us to be together. This is so hot. Bunny and Clyde, we're on the run. We're not on the run. We actually can't leave the house. I knew it was time to finally initiate my surprise. In my suitcase, I had brought with me the hottest red lingerie outfit that I could find online. I ordered it, and my plan was to slip away to the bathroom, put on this lingerie, come back, have his jaw hit the floor, and then have the most incredible passionate sex ever. So I'm straddling him. I push him down and I say, Don't move. I'll be right back. I have a surprise for you. The moment I walked into the bathroom, it hit me. I was so fucking high out of my mind. Now, Daddy Gang, when selecting this particular lingerie outfit, in my head, when I was scrolling online, I imagined that the 15-piece set would really be spectacular.

I'm like, the intric of this is it's Victoria's Secret Adjacent plus dominatrix. You know what I mean? It's giving everything. The fact that I thought All 50, I am not fucking exaggerating, 50 clasps that needed to be hooked together. The fact that I thought I could do this fucking high, God bless. I'm so fucking confident. But now I've been in the bathroom for actually 15 minutes, and I'm starting to get really insecure. Is this the stupidest fucking idea ever? Is this lingerie even hot? Do I smell like B. O. Right now? I am not kidding you, Daddy Gang. I get to the point of tears. But then by some miracle, I get the 50th clasp closed, and I'm like, Thank fucking God, let's fucking go. I rush out of the bathroom, huffing and puffing, sweating like, Here I am. To return to only see that I had left this man on the couch, just a reminder, with a hard on. And when I made my way through the doorway and I enter the room, I can see this man had completely dozed off. When you try to pretend like, I wasn't asleep. I'm fine. I'm right here.

I woke from his slumber. So I'm standing in the living room, fully dressed in this lingerie. But his face isn't, I will say, giving the reaction I'm looking for because he's high and he was just asleep. And I can tell he's trying to get back in the mood. He's trying to get back in the vibe. So I pick up his hands and I place them on my body so I feel wanted. You know what I mean? I'm like, if he won't touch me, because he's literally like this, limp, and I'm taking his hands, I'm putting them on my body. I will do anything to... I'm going to make a move on my fucking self. Then I I decided the only way to ramp it up is to get some momentum. And so I try to get some velocity. We got to wake up. Here we go. And I try to switch positions with this man to get his blood honestly pumping, to really get his heart rate back up. And we flip and we smash heads, and it's game over. There is nothing worse when you clonk heads or any type of awkward thing happens during sex, and we both basically are just like, It's done.

It's done. Let's go to bed. All I'm thinking about is just getting this fucking laundry off. So I go into the bathroom and I remove all 15 fucking pieces. I walk back out into the living room and this man is fully asleep. I couldn't be more awake. Absolute pure humiliation, frustration, emotional exhaustion. And it was just all flowing through my fucking veins. And it's 10:00 at night. There's not a chance I'm falling asleep anytime soon. And I'm scrolling aimlessly through my DMs on Instagram. And remember, at this point, Call Her Daddy was alive and thriving. So my DMs were pretty lit. I had all of you, all the Daddy Gang up in my DMs. And as I am scrolling through the DMs, I come across a profile picture that I am a little familiar with because this ex of mine, as many of them did, he hit balls by day, and he spun webs of lies by night. Okay? Cheating on me was this man's kryptonite. So I didn't trust him in the past, right? I was in the no. Back when we were dating, if he was following a girl on Instagram, I was aware.

I knew everything about her. And me having a photographic memory, being so fucking genius. I had every single girl basically that he followed all their profile pictures committed to memory. Kind of. Yeah, I did. Or I screenshotted all them and I had an entire album about it. It's fine. Whatever. Anyway, Anyways, I recognize this girl's picture as someone that my ex has followed, and I decide to open her message because I'm like, why is a girl that he follows messaging me? I'm about to read you this DM Word for word by this woman. Where's my phone? Let's just call my ex Tom. Hi. It looks like you're at Tom's place in California. I know because I was there last week visiting him, hooking up with him in his weird Christian gray bedroom. Maybe you're okay with him sleeping with other people, but he made it very clear to me that he wanted nothing to do with you. So he's at least being dishonest to me. I'm not telling you this to upset you, but just so you are aware. She follows up and says, I'm also very mortified because we were making fun of all the odd naked photos in this house he was renting, and he told me that he wanted one of me.

So I sent him a fucking framed one jokingly for Valentine's Day that just got delivered there today. While you're there, perfect timing, L-O-L. So if he hasn't already picked it up, can you please just dispose of the package? This is so embarrassing. Imagine me sitting on the couch and be like, What the fuck? And I'm staring at his fat head, sleeping like, What the fuck is going on? Okay, holy fucking shit. What a fucking nightcap. To this already horrific fucking Valentine's Day. So I read this girl's DM, and I know immediately, oh, I fucking love this bitch. Okay, we're ride or dies already. Okay, she's talking about being embarrassed in her DMs to me. Sweetie, don't worry. I got you covered. Okay, you can't be more embarrassed than me. Okay, I'm sure actually at this point he would actually fucking get hard to the side of your nude. Meanwhile, I just played with a soft little chubby for an hour. No, but honestly, it made me feel a lot better. I'm not going to lie. I'm like, oh, we should be fucking friends. So I respond her and I say this. I say, no, do not be embarrassed.

Sorry, I'm just seeing this now, heart. We know we are both seeing other people. You have nothing to be embarrassed about at all. I'm sure he got the pick and loved it. Fire emoji. She then responds and says, Thanks for being so cool about this. I'm still fuming. Tom and I matched on Raya last summer, and we have been talking and hooking up ever since. I called him out on maybe still talking to you before And he made me feel crazy for even bringing you up. And he said, he literally wanted nothing to do with you and was, quote, disgusted by you. So I'm just happy my intuition is at least validated. I literally matched the staircase. This is how crazy fucking girls are. I love us. I literally matched the staircase from your story to the pics of the house that he rented for spring training that he sent me. I'm sorry to drag you into this, and good for you for being open with him, I guess. But I was V into him and wanted to be in a relationship with him. So thank God I'm finding out he's a douche now and not down the line, wasting more of my time.

I'm sure you're a great girl. It just sucks Tom thinks he can outsmart us, Winky face. His dick is good, but not that good to where he thinks he can have both of us on his roster. I'm like, Babe, the dick didn't even get fucking hard, okay? After reading this girl's message, I was moved. If I were in her position, I would do literally anything to make sure this man did not have a fucking framed picture of my naked body after just absolutely realizing he was gaslighting me and lying straight to my face. He has no right to have the possession of that photo. He doesn't deserve this shit. And you know what? I was a little incentivized. You know what I mean? Because fuck him for calling me disgusting. I sit there twiddling my thumbs, and I'm like, what if he hadn't gone through his mail today and opened the nude yet? What if this woman's nude was sitting 10 feet away from me, untouched, and If that is the case, I realized this situation in so many ways could not be better for me. Number one, I realized I'm not alone in my embarrassment tonight.

Shout out to my girl. We're in this together. Number two, I could be a hero tonight. I could really turn things around, and I could put this woman out of her misery by destroying the photo evidence of her naked body that was sent under the pretense that he was a respectful and deserving man, and under the guise that Alex Cooper was in no way, shape, or form involved in his life. Wish I wasn't, buddy, but I was fucking back. Okay? Number three. This is without a doubt the most beautifully convenient way to deflect from my linger fail and to turn the tables on this man. He will be the one who is insecure. He will be the one pleading for forgiveness in the morning. He's going to wake up, hopefully, to me gone, she gone, no nude, and a fuck ton of pissed off messages from this girl in my DM's. So I say, Okay, strap up your boots. Let's fucking go. I walk into the kitchen to where he has a pile of mail and packages sitting, and I begin to piece through them one by one, praying to fucking God I can find this package.

And I remember I pull out It's like a thick, one of those thick white Manila envelopes. And I find the package and it has her name on the return address. I open it because she gave me permission. I take out the frame photo. I quickly flip it on back. I want to be respectful. I don't want to see any nudes. How does this always fucking happen to me? How do I find myself in situations where I'm constantly having to dodge other women's nudes? Like, does this happen to any of you guys constantly? Let me know. Anyways, nudes find me. So I take her photo out of the frame and I rip it to fucking shreds, and I dispose of the evidence. Girl, I got you, bitch. Okay? You're safe with papa. Don't worry. And then Petty Alex enters the chat. No man. No man will be suffocated within my labia and also say I'm disgusting to another woman. I fucking dare you, bitch. So I stare down at the empty frame, and I take a post-it note that's on his kitchen counter, and I take a pen, and I write on this little post-it note, Happy V-day, love Alex and...

The girl's name. Let's say her name is fucking Tiffany. Okay? Heart, happy V-day, love Alex and Tiffany. I put the post-it note in the frame. I put the frame back in the package. I toss it on the fucking counter. I grab my suitcase and my 15-fucking piece set of lingerie, and I realize it's time to go. Maybe he'll wake up in the morning. Maybe he will wake up and be like, Was it all a dream? Did that actually happen? No, it didn't. You never saw me struggle. You never saw me in lingerie. You never saw me, okay? I call an Uber, and I head to the fucking Four Seasons where I book myself a hotel for the night. I deserved it, okay? My dignity couldn't handle anything below five fucking stars. I put my paycheck down. I said, get me the nicest fucking room. And so I ended my Valentine's Day in a hotel room, alone, with a bottle of wine, a pizza, and my vibrator. So Daddy Gang, if that is you right now, alone with a pizza, some wine, maybe some booze, a vibrator, some weed, let me just say, at least you didn't have to go through the journey that I did to realize that sometimes there is no better company than yourself.

Something I also just want to put out for all my girls out there is the amount of effort we sometimes go for men. They are so fucking lucky, and it makes me so sad for my younger self, even thinking of myself sitting and panicking in that bathroom like, Oh, my God, I can't see it. Let him know that I'm struggling. I wanted to be this grand reveal. The fact that I was even insecure at all with this man, I knew he wasn't the right guy. If roles were reversed and this ever fucking happened with Matt, I would come out cracking up being like, Babe, you need to help me. I can't get this fucking thing on. We would laugh about it. He would make me be like, oh, my God, take it off. I don't even want to talk to you. Let's fuck. You look so fucking hot. There's just a difference of men, you should never feel fucking insecure with men, especially when you're fucking trying to do something for them that's going to spice it up and you're trying to be fun. It's all good intention. Why did I even feel insecure around this man?

Yeah, that was the first fucking step as to he wasn't the one, or maybe the fact that he had cheated on me multiple times. But you know what I mean? Never let a man make you feel insecure, okay? We're the superior ones. So, Daddy Gang, pour yourself a glass of wine. Who's at the door? I think we have a special guest. One second. Who Who could it be?

Harry.

Holy shit. I'm so happy you just randomly came over.

What are you doing over here? I'm part of the Unwell Network now, so I just thought, you know what? I'm I'm just going to come over whenever the fuck I want.

Harry, we're only supposed to see each other once a year for our podcast together on Call Her Daddy.

The thing is, you sign me now. Here I am, bitch. Let's go. Happy Valentine's Day.

Guys, this was supposed to be a solo episode, but how can we deny when Harry Jussi shows up with a pizza and sparkly pants? Yeah, how cool are these? It's so cool. Wait, why is everyone wearing these jewels now? What is that?

I don't know. Okay, so I bought one for Riley. How much is that? These were a lot. But I bought one for Riley, but I picked this one out first. I'm like, Oh, this could be nice for her.

Wait, let's tell the story of you getting me a gift and Matt.

Oh, do you want to tell that one?

We haven't even told that story yet.

No, I don't even know if I was allowed to post it.

Yeah, let's talk about it. Okay, so you guys, I'm doing Pilates at my house for one time every year, and I'm on the Pilates reformer, and I get a text from Harry right when we sign in for the Unwalled Network. Harry's like, I have a gift for you and Matt, can I come over? I'm like, Oh, I'm in the middle of working out. He's like, Oh, my God, I didn't know you worked out. I'm like, Yeah, I'm trying. The wedding's coming up. Then Harry's like, Okay, I'll just come by. Don't worry. You don't even need to see me. I'm like, I'll see you, Harry. What's going on? Harry rolls up obnoxious Lambo.

She thought I was dropping off candles.

I thought it was going to be candles or I don't know, something just little to be like, Thanks for signing me. Great relationship. Can't wait to do business together. Now you take it from there.

Oh, yeah. I bought these two matching Louis Vuitton travel bags because I thought this would be really nice. Okay, but I did start at a Birkin, and then it was 50 grand. And then I'm like, why? I was like, I don't even know if you like those.

You guys, we need to post the photo right now. He rolls up in his orange Lambo and he pops the trunk. I'm with my friend Cazzie. And Cazzie's like, what the fuck? This is what happens when you sign talent. She almost took them. She did.

She's like, I'll take them.

I was like, Harry, what are you doing? I literally was like, Harry, Matt and I are trying to advise you, save your money.

No, spend it all. Spend 110% of what you make.

We literally sign Harry, and the next day, he buys two LV bags. There's my signing bonus. He got them engraved and everything. It was literally your signing bonus, you just gave it right back to me. We'll post the picture, but it was so cute. So thank you for the gift. Does he even like it?

He hates it.

No, he loves it. But I actually used his black one to travel to London. You did? Because I think the black one is sleeker. If I want to be showy, then I'll do the classic bag.

Okay, I'll go get you another one.

Sweet.

Thanks, guys.

So thank you for the gift.

Thank you for the career-saving opportunity.

Wait, did you read the comments today? How are people reacting?

Well, there was one girl. There was this one bitch. Was her name Angie? Fucking Angie. Ten comments, every 30 seconds. Something different. Something about dating me or whatever else.

Then now I'm seeing some girls in the comments being like, I don't know if we can support Harry. I'm like, No, I do. No, I do.

Yeah, you guys don't know anything.

No, and you don't need to. You don't have a network. If you do, you didn't sign him. I signed him. It's my network. I want Harry on the network. She's the boss. So fuck off.

Fuck you, Edgy. Edgy, I'll give you charity cock. It's Valentine's Day, Edgy. Fuck it. Dm me.

Okay, so, Harry, that is why you're here. We are here to help the Daddy Gang. Yes. Everyone that's in a healthy, happy relationship, you're That's not the focus today. Fuck you guys. Yeah, fuck you. Fuck me. Yeah. But that's the point. I don't need to be coddled today. We need to help the people that are single feeling a tiny bit down today. Yeah, that's me. You're single. Talk to me about what you're going to be doing this Valentine's Day.

So Valentine's Day, I'm just going to be playing with myself a lot. And I think Daddy Gang, if you have a rose toy, run yourself a nice little bath, put that leg up, get that little shower head, get in there, give yourself a massage. I think that's the best way to go. Buy yourself chocolate. Fuck it. I'm going to be hanging out with my dog. I'm going to be having a great day eating chocolate. He's not allowed it because he'll die. But if you're going to... Look, fuck everyone in a relationship. They suck.

Today is singles day. If you are single right now and you're annoyed that you couldn't find a good boy, Harry is your boy. Boyfriend material.

I'm for everyone.

You're literally for everyone. Well, I am now. Okay, so you're basically saying to the girls, masturbate, have a good time, who gives a fuck. If anything, he couldn't even do it as better as you can do it yourself.

Exactly. That's the I've actually been watching a lot of YouTube videos on that.

Wait, what? Onlyfans or YouTube videos?

No, YouTube videos. Because this is the sex expert. I was like, I'm curious because now I got to be talking about for my ladies. So I should probably know a lot more. And this lady was talking about going down on a girl and being a little bit more attentive. I was like, Yeah, you know what? Girls actually aren't coming.

I love that you're watching YouTube videos instead of porn. This is good, Harry. This means that you're- I'm leveling up. You're leveling up. You're leveling away from the toxic masculinity of just like, and you're actually focusing on the delicate flower of the clit.

Oh, little bean. Little hooded bean.

Wait, you know what's so funny is today, I was reminiscing since we did just sign you, I was looking through all of our old things. Are you still eating ass?

See, I was trying to do that for a little bit. I just thought it was a good branding play. But then I was like, I'm like, This is really gross. Because okay, Daddy Gang, there was a few nights where I got a little bit drunk and I'm like, Jay Alvarez is a sex type with the oil. I'm like, The branding was really nice. I'm like, You know what? I want to have some branding like that where everyone's like- Everyone knows you as the ass-eater? Yeah, I was like, You know what? This guy sucks my toes and he my ass and then left. I did it two nights after a couple of big nights out. Then This one night with this famous girl, I went home, I ate her ass. I'm like Robin hood.

Harry, you know what just reminded me? Daddy Gang, do you remember last episode when I asked you who was the most famous person you had fucked? That went nuts. Harry, I had multiple celebrities call me saying, I will exchange tea for you. I will tell you something about this person if you tell me who the fuck Harry Jossy fuck.

I'll fuck them.

I'm like, Why don't you actually just fuck him? He'll tell you.

Come over.

Dude, it was so crazy. Everyone wanted to know.

Yeah, I was getting hounded.

People thought it was-I think it's better that we never tell anyone. Yeah. Whose ass were you eating?

No, I can't say that.

We'll tell it to me, and then I'll bleep it.

No. Really? You promise? What did I do last time? Okay. What? What? No one knows that. Only two people on the planet know that. Only two people on the planet know that. I know. I will get so in trouble. This is... This is... I should have told you this last time.

This is more Insane than the last fucking episode.

It was so bad. Well, no, it wasn't bad. It was great. But I just don't know why.

How many times have you hooked up with her?

Never. I just ate her ass and disappeared. Like Batman.

If people heard that name and I didn't bleep it.

I know.

I want to be very… Daddy, I'm making eye contact with the camera. I am not exaggerating. That name is crazier than the name you first gave me when we had the other podcast.

I don't know why I was so drunk and I thought it was a good idea.

I'm surprised she hooked up with you.

What? Are you serious? No, I feel like…

I feel like you're…

What? I'm a catch. Look at my bracelets. I I got an orange car. Look at my sparkly pants. You wouldn't let this eat your ass? Come on.

Harry, I just feel like you guys are so not-I know.

I didn't know how it happened. It was a funny night.

I feel like you're not the similar vibe to each other.

No, at all.

Okay, so we're going to read some Daddy Gang questions. Oh, yeah. Actually, they're not questions. They're stories. Okay? And these people are writing in their horror stories from Valentine's Day. Oh, no.

Oh, you got the Hot Mess merch on?

Yeah, it's cute, right? It's so nice. Yeah. Shout out, Earl. Shout out, Earl. Gang, gang. Network. Okay, you're going to read one of these. It's basically a horror story to make all of our girls that are sitting at home, wanking it alone to feel better. This didn't happen to you. So be grateful you're snuggled up under your comfort or watching sex in the city.

Yeah, play that little human Banjo. Strum that little guitar. Come on, flick that mean. Let's go.

Read this.

Okay. God, I have to read? Yeah. Okay. So I'd been seeing this guy for about a month, and I was really into him. The sex was absolutely fire. He was so fucking hot, and I was essentially just hoping and praying that one day we would actually date. When I got the text from him on Valentine's Day asking to hang out, I was super surprised. I had no idea this guy felt the same about me. So naturally, I went out and I bought a new outfit, got my nails done, got a blowout, and texted just about everyone I knew to tell them I was about to have the Valentine's Day of my dreams. On Valentine's Day, he drove in my house to pick me up, and there I was, sitting in the passenger seat, absolutely feeling myself. After years of horrible Valentine's days alone, it was finally my turn to have my romantic moment. He then proceeded to pull into a shopping center parking lot, which I thought was weird because there weren't any nice restaurants there. This man parks the car, leans over, looks me in the eyes and says he has chlamedia, and I should get tested.

There was no date planned, and he had no intention of hanging out with me. He just wanted to tell me in person that I probably had an SDD, and he gave it to me. Really glad I got a blowout for this. Happy fucking Valentine's Day. Daddy, okay. Wow.

That is so fucking sad. That sucks. The positive, a gentleman to say it in person. But would you want to be told you have an SDD in person? I think no, actually.

Yeah, just do an anonymous text.

Yeah, just a text. Just do that. Just text. What do we think about this girl? What do we think?

Look, honestly, at least you got to blow out. And you both got chlamedia. You may as well just fuck.

So true. Yeah. That's what you should have said in the car. All right, well, we got it at least. Let's go.

Yeah, let's just give me what else.

I'm really sorry about the chlamedia thing, but again, I've always said, take a pill. Yeah, it's a few pills. It's a quick little thing.

You'll piss it off. It's like a cold.

It's actually better than the cold.

It's a Fennie cold. A little Fanny cold. A Fanny cold? Okay, but he did it in person, so that's great.

I just don't know, though. I think that there's so many things I would want to hear in person. A breakup, you should do in person. Scd, just text me. Just text me. I I don't need to look at you right now.

Text me and block my number. Boom. Yeah, there we go.

Okay, are you ready for this? It's Valentine's Day, and I'm hooking up with my boyfriend at the time. Oh, yeah. The relationship. I have a feeling I'm going to read this whole thing in every line here. He's going to be like, Oh. Give it to me.

Okay, so it's Valentine's Day.

I'm hooking up with my boyfriend at the time. The relationship wasn't great. The classic college toxic. But so far, our Valentine's Day was smooth sailing. We went out for date and came back to hook up and have sex. Well, as he's fingering me, he pulls out something out of my vagina. We both freak out. And then we realized what it is. He fucking pulled a used condom I'm proud of me. Oh, I've heard about this. I'm sure you could imagine his surprise because the two of us didn't even use condoms. Well, I forgot to mention I had drunkenly hooked up and cheated on my boyfriend a few days earlier with some guy I met at a frat party. I guess the condoms have gotten lost inside of me, and am I drunk and say, I had no idea. So now here I am on Valentine's Day getting caught cheating and now also realizing I need to visit the doctor for a yeast infection. Karma's a bitch, right?

That happened to my friend.

That's crazy. Wait, really? They got caught cheating with a condom? Yeah. No. What an oxymoron, right? That's crazy. Is that what it's called?

Yeah, I was like, Is that my friend who texted? No. This girl was engaged to this guy. One of my friends was hooking up with her and he's like, What the fuck is that smell? What is going on? No. Apparently, there was a condom in there that had been in there for a week. She's brewing. He's like, I don't use condoms, bitch. Yeah, but I'm also like, How does it fall off?

You know, this is the problem. The concept is so pure, like cheat with a condom.

Yeah.

That's so nice. It's so pure. It's like, I don't want to give my boyfriend an SDD. So it's like you're being so loving and generous. It's thoughtful.

That's actually selfless. Yeah.

Enjoy it a little less just to really protect your partner. But the issue is, how dare you be dumb enough to let it slip and slide inside?

Yeah, but why are you not fishing it? Can you not feel it?

I don't have a vagina. I would feel that. My question is, are you that fucked up? How do you not know? Where did the condom go? Where's little Willy?

Yeah. What's going on? Why are you bearbacking? But how did he not go? Hey, you might just want to… Can I just open that up and just see where my children went? Because that would also be a thought. I just spunked in that fucking rubber, and now it's swimming around in your guts. Are my kids just all on a mission working together? We got to get to the egg? Is that what is going on? That would fucking throw me off. I've never been that drunk where I'm like, Where did this go to?

Harry. Hello. Harry. Again, Daddy Gang, this is a perfect example as to why you should be so fucking happy you're home. You're not having to deal with a condom and a yeast infection. I love how you don't have to deal with condoms. If you're single, there's no condom in your life, okay? You can raw dog yourself with your fingers or your dildo.

Yeah, spread that shit.

Okay, you're going to read this one. Oh, for fuck. Okay, here you go. Okay. I want to hear your opinion.

This is my Valentine's Day horror story. It began when I received a random DM on Instagram from a girl I did not follow and was not friends with. God, it said, Hey, girly. Which is always... That's a red flag. That's a red flag. It's scary. So I already had a pit in my stomach. I checked and I couldn't find a single mutual friend with this girl. And for context, I'm not the type of person to have randoms sliding up in my DMs. So I respond with, Hey, do we know each other? To which she replies, Through your boyfriend, da. But I thought I would reach out myself to see how we vibe. I was so confused. How does she know my boyfriend? Is he cheating on me? If he's cheating on me, why does this girl want to know if we, as in me and her, vibe? Well, after some desperate messages back and forth, I came to a realization that my boyfriend at the time was on Tinder and was supposedly looking for other girls to have a three-sum with on Valentine's Day, which I never agreed to. We actually never even discussed having one, but it gets better.

In order to lure the women, he would show them my nudes. What? When I confronted him about it, he had, of course, already deleted the app and all of the messages. So my Valentine's Day ended up with me breaking up with my boyfriend and realizing my nudes had been sent around Tinder to God knows who, traumatizing to say the least. Sue him.

No, literally sue that. That's revenge porn. That is full revenge porn. Sue that Fuck her. However, what I will say is obviously, you take bomb fucking nudes. The fact that girl is like, Will we vibe? The ladies are in to you. That's crazy. Dude, what a fucking psycho.

Wait, how does she find her Instagram? Is it linked on the Tinder? There's so many questions. I would sue him and fuck that girl.

We fuck that girl.

Yeah, just fuck her.

Oh, you mean fuck her, like sexually?

Yeah, if you guys want a vibe.

I know you meant fuck her, like fuck you. Fuck her. That's what I was saying. Why don't you go fuck? This is what you do. Fuck her. Get a double in a dildo. Valentine's Day. Quickly FaceTime him. Look what you're missing out on your little fucking pussy. End call. Bitch us. Become a lesbian.

Yeah, there you go. Fuck men.

Fuck men. Except for Harry, boyfriend material. And Matt. Oh, yeah. And Matt.

That's crazy.

Dude, that is so fucked up. Imagine the day that you have to open your phone. There is nothing worse. I mean, I told the story earlier when I got a DM from a girl. You just know as a woman, something's off.

I'm actually thinking. Okay.

I've had a thought. Okay. I love when you think.

Maybe he was cheating on her, and that's a way to break the barrier. Because They're like, Oh, they see my Instagram, they see I've got a girlfriend. But if I'm like, I'm having a threesome, come over, let me give it a test run, and then I'll see that Fanny is good enough for my girls' client.

Is this what we're calling vaginas now? Fanny?

You don't call that?

Does anyone in this room call it a Fanny? You don't call it a Fanny?

Oh, my mom does. Your mom? Yeah, we were growing up. It's a Fanny.

I guess it does... When you say it in your accent, it sounds better. Say it in an American accent. Fanny.

Sounds like a wasp.

Give me your Fanny.

Give me your Fanny. Yeah, I get it. That's not hot. Yeah, I'm going to stay it my way. What about clunge or minge? What?

Clunge. A clunge is a vagina?

Yeah, or minge.

Minge?

Okay, because obviously it's Valentine's Day. I want to have a Valentine's Day story. I only had a good one, and that was last year, whatever. We don't like it. Anyway, when I was in high school, there was this girl Stella, and we were all in scuba class together.

Is that a thing in Australia?

Where I went to scuba.

Rich bitch scuba?

Scuba, yeah. We live on the water. What are we going to do? We're going to study the coral. Anyway, Stella was dating Ricardo. I had a big crush on Stella. He ends up leaving school. I become scuba captain. She becomes scuba vice captain. I'd always be jealous because she would be at the back of the bus giving Ricardo little jerkeys. I'm like, You know what? I don't want to be tugged on the way for a scuba trip. Then anyway, we went scuba diving. We tried to have sex under the water, which was weird because I'm like, I'm going to be a freaky boy. I want to say I fucked under the water. But we're in a wetsuit and it was just weird. You cut a little hole? It's just hard to talk because you got a big gas tank, and I'm trying to... She's like, What are you doing? Why are you trying to get…

Anyway. And did she ever fuck you?

Yeah, so many times. We ended up dating, but- She's not underwater.

No. You were the scuba captain? What does that job entail?

I just getting everyone excited about scuba. I'm picturing you on the beach.

Are you good at swimming? No. I can't really picture you swimming.

No, I was good at swimming. I got like, what, like fifth in my school? Fifth in what?

At a scuba?

No, at a swimming. You swim?

Yeah. Because by the time you just stretch out your arms, Harry, you're on the other end of the fucking pool. You're so tall.

But I feel like you would sink. Yeah. No, I'm the worst.

Do you have pictures of yourself in your scuba gear? No. Why?

Why would I have- I'm going to call your mom.

No. Where are pictures of Harry in scuba class?

You don't think your high school has them? Yeah, they do.

Someone took a picture of you in a wet suit. Yeah, there's a lot. I'm going to find it.

No, please don't. And we're going to put it on this- It's so embarrassing. It's an embarrassing story already.

What if we just crop your head in the scuba outfit?

I look scuba... It's just silly. Everyone was calling me Scuba Steve.

We'll just Photoshop it.

Scuba Steve? People were calling me that in school. I used to get bullied about it.

Wait, why?

Because who does scuba?

No, Harry. Let's talk. You buy believe?

Yeah, but- Scuba boy.

No. Wait, people... No, don't Because it still trigger you? Yeah. Wait, why would they make fun of you?

Because who does scuba? All the other guys are doing track and playing rugby and surfing and doing cool stuff. Yeah, I'm like, Guys, you want to come diving? There's a coral. I'm like, Oh, my God. You want to see Nemo?

You know what? Honestly, it's a great fucking story. And I love that you are scuba boy.

Yeah. Shout out, Stella. I'm a little scuba puss. Where do you think she is? I don't know.

Okay, here we go. This is the next story. Daddy Gang, are you ready? Okay, here we go. Here we go. This is the story of when I found out my boyfriend was an absolute weirdo on Valentine's Day. For context, I was already on the verge of breaking up with him because he had a little shrimp dick. And I like to think long term and a long term relationship with a little baby shrimp is just not cutting it. Unless he knows how to really use it, I think. We don't want to discriminate.

I've always heard it's not the size of the needle, it's the pace of the sewing machine. Does that make sense? Have you seen the sewing machine? No, no, no. You put the pen all the way down.

I I see. I see where you're going with that. Anyways. Anyways. Okay, so it's Valentine's Day. I put my lingerie on under my dress. You know how it goes. He makes me come pick him up. We go to dinner somewhere that I picked. And then I have to head over to his house. Now, I'm a freak, okay? I like to have fun, and we never, ever have an issue with sex or anything like that. So we get back to his house and I start sucking his baby shrimp, and this motherfucker pulls out his phone. But I'm like, I'm a freak. Okay, that's fine. Take all the videos that you want. I know I look fabulous giving the gluck-luck. Well, he wasn't taking a video. He was watching one. I heard another fucking girl moaning, and I legit almost bit off his dick out of pure shock. I popped up, I grabbed his phone, and I looked to see what he was watching. Now, I thought it was going to be just some random porn video, which, again, not great, but I can work with it. Let's watch porn together. Let's do that. It was a video of him having sex with his ex-girlfriend.

Are you fucking kidding me? Are you serious? I just want to be clear, these are real fucking stories that you guys wrote in today. That's crazy. I didn't make a scene like a gracious queen. I got dressed I packed my shit, took my flowers, my spa gift card, and my dignity. I completely went ghost, and I have never talked to him since. Okay. What? Put yourself in her shoes. You are eating a girl out.

My favorite. Taking me back.

How long has it been?

Two days. I love it. It's so nice. And this girl, she just got such a nice Fanny. It's so lovely.

The Fanny Club. Okay, so Fanny Club. Yes. So instead of your roster, that's what you should call it. My Fanny Club.

No, I'll get them all shirts. No, that's cute. Yeah.

Gift bags. Okay, so imagine you're eating a girl out. You're putting in your work. You're doing exactly what you know you're great at. Then you hear a noise. You look up. She's watching video. You think she's watching porn. You're okay with it. It's a video of her ex eating her out. What do you do?

I would go in the kitchen. I would get a nice big bucket of ice and water, and I would just fucking pour it on her because I'm like, Obviously, you need a fucking wake-up call. This is crazy. What the fuck are you doing? Ice bucket challenge.

Dude, that's... You're right.

But I would just be like, Hey. Hello. Muchacha, what is going on here?

You have to get up and leave.

You can never return. I would ask a question. What is What's going on here? Yeah, you miss him.

You miss him and I'm down here doing the dirty work?

Yeah, I'm eating your asshole on the fourth of July. It's crazy. What's happening? The fourth of July. Let's call your mother. You got some questions. Let's go to therapy. I would be so confused, but I would honestly get up and I would just be like... You leave.

Yeah. It's so insulting.

Would you message the ex?

Oh, you dirty psychopath. Look at the eyes. You looked at me like question mark, question mark. Oh, my God. Interesting. Wouldn't that be crazy? I guess... Okay, this is what I would do. I would message them depending on the level of petty that I felt towards them. If you guys had been talking for a long time, or I guess this girl, in this case, it's her fucking boyfriend. Valentina with your boyfriend, I would literally... But then I don't want to give him the satisfaction. Then the ex would probably be happy that he's thinking of her.

Oh, yeah, that's tough.

Fuck his best friend. Fuck his best. It's the only option, right? And take a video of it and then send it to him.

The balls on that guy. No, no, no.

Fuck his best friend. Take a video of it. Next time he's your boyfriend, start playing the video of you and the best friend. That's crazy. Holy shit. It just sucks because in the moment, you can't have the wherewithal to actually think that far. If this ever happens to anyone again, because clearly, this is such a common thing. If your boyfriend is watching a video of him fucking his ex. You are going to stay calm. You're going to finish the job, if anything. You're going to swallow like a champ, and then you're going to go fuck his ex friend later that day. And then the next time you fuck your boyfriend, you're going to set it up and you're going to start watching it as he's fucking you from behind so he can get a good view, too. And be like, this is my favorite one to watch. How about you? Merry fucking Christmas, bitch.

That would be crazy.

I'm just in shock. I knew the Daddy Gang had stories, but I didn't realize This is awful shit. That's horrible.

That's fucking bad. That would break my heart. I would actually be so defeated.

I want to just thank you for coming on because I think that the Daddy Gang needed a little reminder. You don't need a boyfriend. You have Harry. Yeah, you need me. No, literally, we do need more of you. And that is why Harry is coming out with his podcast, Boyfriend Material.

Probably we finally get to say it. Yeah. Okay, guys, she's such a boss. She knows everything. She's on every call, and we're putting little pirate hats on the call.

I'm going to post those. You guys, Harry and I doing business together. It's so silly. I'm scared. But it's been so fun, and I'm so happy that we're doing this together. And I truly wouldn't say this if I didn't mean it. The Daddy Gang is going to have so much fun. We have Madely Mondays, Harry Tuesdays. Daddy? Daddy Wednesdays. That's so weird. Earl Thursdays. Who's going to fill the Friday slot? Skrillex. We'll figure... What? What? Daddy Gang, we love you so much. Thank you for coming on, Daddy. Skrillex. I don't know.