I LOATHE NON VERBAL COMMUNICATION!
and here’s why…
1st off…i like waste’n my money on things i like to waste my money on…
like MADONNA fer example
her poor children…i swore i saw them hold’n up “will dance fer food” signs the other day...
(it was the uncommissioned artwork Norman Rockwell would never paint)
men now and then…(NO not in THAT way!) i'm talk'n about a proper date...i'll even let them super size their fries sometimes...if their nice
do i look like some bloated baboon with an ego bigger than the universe who has to pay for their affection by sport'n a horrible comb over while marinate'n their face in cheetos powder...and pretend’n to run fer the big office at one point...just cuz they're try’n to get the rate’ns up on their crappy reality show?
at one point about 6 years back…when text’n was all the rage…
my ex at the time…told me to get it for times when he needed to say somethin’ meaningful and quick...which he'd end up communicate’n 99.9% of his rage towards me…via the TEXT!...the affection was lost!
here’s the problem with that…
after one of our many “disagreements” (he was bi-polar…so that was about every 10 minutes)…i would leave and head back to my place which was about 10 minutes away…and within that 10 minute drive that i was try’n to figer out why am i lett’n this psycho cycle continue…i would receive approximately 5 to 10 text’s from him...(but it was more like a short novel)
first one would be curse’n me out with every foul word…in alphabetical order…then i would get a follow-up text seconds later…apologize’n in some sorta haiku form…followed by a reversal of last text…then some random ?
about watch'n "our" tv show CSI together later on in the week…as if no argument took place to begin with...it wasn't really my show of choice mind you…but i guess this is what that weird scrabble word "compromise" comes into play when date'n a hot mental case
about watch'n "our" tv show CSI together later on in the week…as if no argument took place to begin with...it wasn't really my show of choice mind you…but i guess this is what that weird scrabble word "compromise" comes into play when date'n a hot mental case
most of the time i thought he was kidd’n kitten…only to be scolded like a 5 year old later on when we would meet up and he said he was being serious…and then there were other times when i thought he was totally being serious…he would say he was just kidd'n!
i am not a psychologically technologically analytically decoder of textology!
50% of our relationship was text’n…which at the time…meant 50% of my fun money would get wasted on pay’n for these texts every month…when really i needed that 50% of my money to get myself wasted just to deal with him
it only lasted 9 months…so no need for yer “don’t worry …you’ll find someone” greet’n card or a dish of yer pity pudd'n...i’m waaay over it!...i cancelled my texts options immediately...
and went with somethin' that made me much happier and easier to deal with
neither of us were really at fault when i look back at it…
we just weren't meant to be...EH!
but this is MY blog…and i’m tell’n the story…so he gets 99.9% of the blame for it’s demise…so there!
before ya jump on my case…i am aware now these days unlimited plans are fairly cheap and text'n is basically free within yer country…but back then…that was like 4 cocktails i’d be miss’n out on once a month...and should really only be used when at a bar...in a bathroom on a bad date...or when yer worshipp'n yer CASPER of choice with yer fellow pea podders...
in general…friends…family…and that questionable someone i may or may not care about fer the next 5 minutes…are afraid to pick up the phone cuz they don’t want to waste time talk’n on the phone…or they'll get the brain cancer or...or...OR...but have no problemo spend'n my money and waste'n my time with at least a minimum of 3 or 4 texts try’n to get the answer to the question that may not even have been meant for me to begin with cuz they’re have’n a threesome with their cellphone…or was sent by mistake…or not meant to say that…or spelt out the wrong 3 letter code…or was interpreted wrong by the receiver who doesn’t even know WTF the damn code stands for anyways…or WHATEVER!!!
(see where i’m goin with this kittens?)
(see where i’m goin with this kittens?)
THEN…they waste their time wait’n for a reply (and CHER forbid if you take too damn long to reply to their ass or type the wrong response or better yet…DIAL THEM BACK to ask them what the hell they are talk’n about!)
they pull that passive aggressive BS and don’t even pick up…and send you a text once you hang up and say “so…where are you?”…or the text didn’t go thru or they won’t even reply right away…or…or…or…
i feel like Charlie Brown try’n to kick the damn ball!
even worse are those under-the-table texters (this breed usually can be found on dates that start to go south) no point in point’n them out….you know who you are!...so unless yer a doctor or a director…kindly ignore that buzz in yer pants alert’n you…or i will kindly ignore you...and ya won’t be gett’n any buzz from me!
secondly…and i won’t waste much time on this one…let’s talk about sext baby!
yes it’s instant gratification for voyeuristic salvation when yer take’n a 20 minute break in the boy’s room play’n tetris while the guy on the other side of the wall next to you becomes the conductor of the one piece gruntage symphony…while hear'n the melodic splash’n sounds of meatloaf chunks being sacrificed to the porcelain god
pretty huh!
it also serves as a temptation salad when decide’n whether or not you wanna drive that extra 30 miles cuz yer gett’n carpal tunnel from doin all the work yerself...(and you'd rather have a lil "enteraction” instead)…only to find out after the long ass drive to tim-buck-toothless's double wide trailer…
the Dustin from "As The World Turns" look'n hot piece of ass that you thought you were gonna meet...
turns out to look more like...
Dustin Hoffman with a peg leg and a glass eye!
trust me...i got nothin' against raisin ranchers that are crave'n a lil sump'n sump'n on the side before their jell-o dinner...we all hope to make it that far...but i ain't into colostomy bags and cardiac arrests...well just not yet!
or worse yet…you send a sext to the wrong person…and you get an uncomfortable message 2 days later from yer "str8" friend (who now…all of a sudden…is about as straight as a wet noodle)
these are based on actual events kittens
cellphonix suck….interpretation is sooo damn perplex’n!
if ya take a look back at history…i suppose you could argue that Pocahontas started the whole damn text’n craze with his smoke signals…modern man just figered out a way to rectify them more user friendly
and they do serve certain logical purposes…like when ya can’t hear in a crowded bar or hang’n out in a 25 cent video booth and ya wanna alert other "theater goers" of the undercover operation sting that's happen'n
but kittens…we are losing the art of verbal communicado rapidly…future generations will no longer need to learn a secondary language…let alone their own…they’ll be hire’n personal trainers for their fingers tips from the onset of arthritis at an early age
i was even offered at one point...by a potential failure…to have my text’n turned back on and paid for by him for the year…so he could just say “hey” and that he was think’n of me...ummm...yea...insert VOMIT BAG HERE!
it wasn't til i got to meet the I-N-C-R-E-D-I-B-L-Y hysterical genius known as MISS JACKIE BEAT...(and i'll tell more about her in the new year) that i FINALLY joined this fuck'n non verbal cell-o-phonic universe once again!
the internet alone is enough of a non verbal addiction for me thank you
“hey” is for horses…text’n is just a mess
if you have issues with my issue…go tell Oprah…she cares
but PUHLEEZ…get off my dress!
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