The Lost Plum…

Dear Text-Master,

Every once and a while I smile when I hear my “ding-a-text-message-ding” and my heart skips alittle beat.  I’m hoping it’s something exciting, something good, or even better it’s someone good.

However, then there are days when I pray with all of my little heart that the “ding-a-ding-text ding” and you the founder of text messaging as a standard form of communication die a horrible horrible death!

I hope in hell you are consistently bombarded with text message that are vague and questioning in tone and meaning, and you are whipped into translating them for eternity.

Messages like, “maybe i’ll catch you later”, “could be fun”, “another time, LOL.”,. ect.

thank you, and enjoy hell.

plum

Coming home tonight I’m more then positive the cab driver was masturbating.  Yup, ok, he totally was.  When we’d stop at a red light, he’d lean his head back moan, and shake/move in the sense that he was totally ‘beating off”, he’d only move on when the other cars honked like crazy.

I had a $10 bill and waited till we hit about $7 on the meter and told him the next corner was great (even though I still had like 10 blocks to go) sorta dropped the bill through the glass and jumped out.

FACT: Touching yourself and driving is not safe.  

SIDEBAR: Now I’m no guy, but really you can’t wait to do something like that?