Textual Healing

"Your blog makes you out to be a total whore." That's what my sister told me the other day. After my New Year's post, a dear friend of mine said, "I hope your mother doesn't read that!" My responses to those statements are indeed and no she doesn't, thank gawd! Consider this your disclaimer: Yes, my posts tend to lean toward the scandalous, but that is not a reflection of who I truly am. Anyone who really knows me is aware of the fact that I am pretty much the classiest thing going (classy is my new word for drunk redneck trailer trash). I'm only giving yall what you want deep down in your nasty little souls.......some scandal! Let's take a moment and be completely honest with ourselves, we all have an inner skank inside there somewhere just waiting to come out. Embrace her, ladies! Dress her up in a glitter halter, feed her Jell-O shots and make her dance on a table for god's sake! It's fun to let her come out every once in awhile and this blog let's me do just that. I know this is all very sudden, I just thought we needed to have this little talk to clear things up. And while I have your attention: Say no to drugs, don't talk to strangers, wear condoms, wipe from front to back, always wear mascara and never ever wear a squinchie in public. Okay, so now that you know I'm not a whore, put a dollar in my g-string, help me off of this pole and let's get down to the real story: Text Messaging.

Omigod, can I tell you how much I love text messaging? Just talking about it makes me feel like a giddy teenager again (hence the Omigod). Now just in case you're confused, here is the official definition of text messaging: Sending short messages to a smart phone, pager, PDA, or other handheld device. Text messaging is a feature that allows you to exchange messages up to 160 characters in text format. Text messaging is not to be confused with Instant Messaging. IM is like Text Messaging's fat older brother. He was the high school quarterback and all-around badass but he failed out of college, gained 60 lbs and is now a jobless freeloader living with his parents who spends his days smoking dope, perusing internet porn and hanging out with a guy whose nickname is Guido. IM is a has-been and his hot younger brother TM is changing the world as we know it. Besides being an efficient way to tell a friend at a moment's notice that "I just farted", TM is also a new gauge for us to test the ever-changing waters of romance in this modern day and age. It used to be, when you met a guy you would exchange numbers, spend up to two months dating and talking to him on the phone, and then DTR (determine the relationship). Phone convos were a crucial part of the early "getting to know you" stages of a relationship. Sure there are the dinner dates and trips to the movies, but it's all a bunch of small talk. The real shit goes down over the phone, and how else are you going to find out if he's a total freak or not if you don't talk to him? So, you'd spend countless hours each night asking him all of life's most important questions: "Who was your last girlfriend and could I take her in a fight?", "Do you have any STD's or funky moles that I need to know about?", "Is your family rich?", "Roses or Calla Lilies for our wedding?", "Have you ever slept with a hooker?", "Are you going to cheat on me you lying bastard?", you know, the usual stuff girls normally ask. The conversations, if good, are filled with both highs and lows, laughter and sadness, joy and pain. But then, as inevitably as Britney Spears wearing a "M.I.L.F. in training" message tee, would come the one moment that we all fear the most. The chilling pause of pure death known as the, Dum, dum, duuuummmm, Awkward Silence. AHHHHHHHHHH!!!! No sound on earth (or in this case, lack thereof) can make or break the future of a relationship like an awkward pause over the phone. Silence can be deadly, and in this case, it'll send you running now matter how much of a hottie he may be. You try to write him off as a "Bad Phone Person" but no matter what you tell yourself, he's as good as gone.

Enter text messaging.

Let's face it. It's a helluva lot easier for all of us to put our thoughts in writing rather than saying them. What better way to communicate with a possible Mr. Right than through a heated exchange of letters and symbols? In reality, there's no edit or clear buttons to erase the stupid shit we say. With TM, we can morph and write and rewrite our words to say exactly what we want to say, when we want to say it. Awkward Silence? Gone. You want to let him hang for a bit? Write him back in an hour. You're so excited you think you might bust at the seams? Write him back immediately. It's up to you and that's the way it should be! Once you have concocted the perfect message, you just press the magic button. Send! Out into the tele-cybersphere goes a carefully tailored message that you truly feel good about, rather than some idiotic 2 minute long shtick about how your dog pooped in the house today. All of the bullshit conversations are completely eliminated and you can say the things that are actually important. Never mind that you practically get a Hemorrhoid waiting for him to write back, it's actually....... fun! It's a cat and mouse game that can go on at it's own pace over a course of days rather than one agony-filled hour per night. The pressure is gone and dating is easy again as long as your finger doesn't cramp up on you. And if Verizon or Cingular or whoever can actually keep their shit together, you can communicate from any locale you desire. And inhibitions? They're gone with the dial tone. Both of you write things that you would never actually say on the phone or in person. "I miss u", "thinking of u", "u make me smile", "XOXO". God it's so friggin' cheesy I think I just vomited in my mouth a little bit, but it's really sweet and best of all, you actually mean it. Although, it does have it's inevitable pitfalls.

When someone speaks to you, the tone of their voice and what syllable is stressed can mean the difference between good and bad. Through text messaging, emotion can be muffled and you are sometimes forced to call an emergency group meeting of your friends to figure out, "Did he mean it like, 'see ya!' or did he mean it like, 'see ya'?" Lord only knows and you sure as hell will never figure it out unless you call him. And then there's the unspeakable. The dreaded NR. No Reply. You cry yourself to sleep wondering what you did wrong. Was it that drunk text you sent him the other night that said "heeeeeey whhattteru ew doin? I like eeeehhyou soo mujch call me lllaterbye"? After a few days with no reply, you call it a loss. It's probably for the better. If he doesn't enjoy your drunken dials and texts, you don't want to be with him anyway. But then what if he has just forgotten about the golden rule of texting, the TDR? That's the Ten-Day-Rule. You have exactly ten days to respond to a text. After that, you are banned from sending any further texts to that person and vice versa. Simple as that. Women are perfect and always respond accordingly, but if a guy fails to respond to you after ten days, you are hereby permitted to go fuck up his car or perform another violent act of your choice. And if he dares to write you back a month later, like not responding to your message is actually permissable? Awwww sookie-sookie now! That's when you give him the old one-two number cock block. See ya! And that's in the bitchy tone.

Hopefully no drastic action of this nature will be necessary. If he's the right one for you, he'll know exactly what to write, and how and when to write it. He'll know just the right buttons to push and if he's really good, he might even send you dirty little love messages - "Spank u l8-r!" Whatever you do, just keep on texting, and may your journey through the wonderland that is TM be filled with nothing but unicorns, rainbows, sunshine and daisies. And remember, never ever wear squinchies in public.

His text messages revealed. Does he write what he means? After months of in-depth study, I have translated the texts of various male subjects. You won't be surprised by the results.

He writes: Wuz up?
He means: My penis. Oh crap did I just answer my own question?

He writes: What r u doin?
He means: Are you sitting around in lingerie? Wait....let me picture it.

He writes: Call me.
He means: Talk dirty to me.

He writes: LOL
He means: That wasn't funny.

He writes: TGIF
He means: If I go out tonight and don't meet a hot girl, I'll give you a booty call later.

He writes: WTF?
He means: You don't have an X-Box?

He writes: For your eyes only.
He means: I've got a killer case of buttne, don't tell anyone.

He writes: Long time no see.
He means: I'm that asshole that hasn't written you in 2 months.

He writes: You'll be sorry.
He means: I kill animals and light fires for fun.

He writes: I'm sorry.
He means: I'm sorry I got caught.

He writes: Lunch?
He means: Quickie?

He writes: Gotta go.
He means: I've got a date with the new issue of Playboy and a jar of lubricant.

He writes: SNAFU
He means: Snorted Narcotics, All Fucked Up

He writes: I love you ;-)
He means: I'm wasted.

He writes: Thank U.
He means: You owed me anyway.

He writes: UR welcome.
He means: I didn't have to do that. I'm so generous.

He writes: Just a sec.
He means: I'm adjusting myself.

He writes: What's ur 20?
He means: I don't care where you are, I'm just channeling Burt Reynolds from Smokey and the Bandit.

He writes: Where R U?
He means: Susie, put your clothes on! She's on her way over here!

He writes: R U okay?
He means: Did you see Susie sneaking out my back door?

He writes: Always a pleasure.
He means: I'm pleasuring myself right now.

He writes: Be gentle with me.
He means: I'm gay.

He writes: R U sick of me yet?
He means: Are you seriously not bothered by my small penis?

He writes: Hugs & Kisses
He means: Farts & Wet Dreams


Got your own text translations? Post a comment and tell me about the funny text messages you've gotten lately.