This Is Why I Haven’t Given Him His Own Phone

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This is what happens when you let your 13-year-old text his sister from your phone.  Annnnnnd I know this comes as a total shock, but I don’t use my kids’ real names on here, so I’ve edited the screen shot to protect the TOTALLY not innocent.

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And For My Next Trick, I’ll Need A Blow Torch And A Banana Peel!

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If  you’re not already following Jenny Lawson’s (TheBloggess) Twitter feed of people’s awkward confessions, you’re severely missing out.  I think I’ve done every single thing people have written about, at some point.  I’m THAT awkward.  Case in point…

A text conversation…

Me: Soooooo, I saw a kid walking in my building wearing a nice dress shirt and a tie, so I said, ‘Well, don’t you look handsome today!’.

Tracy: And?

Me: Turns out it’s not a kid…it’s a new 23yo substitute.

Tracy: Oh no…

Me: The look on his face…  I went from friendly mom-figure to cougar in about 2 seconds flat.

Tracy: Awesome. Enjoy sexual harassment class.  Again.

I Shall Apply A Password To My Communication Medium Post Haste

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(Coming back from lunch.)

Tracy: “You left your phone here.”

Me: “I realized that after I left, but then, I couldn’t exactly call you to ask about it.”

Tracy: “So….you got a text from Ryan.”

Me: “Ummmm…okay.”

Tracy: “I read it.”

Me: “What kind of text?  Should I be embarrassed for myself or annoyed with you?”

Tracy: “You should be SUPER embarrassed about all the texts you guys were sending last night.”

Me: “Ohhhhhh, God…you didn’t.”

Tracy: “Seriously, who uses ‘expeditiously’ like that?  And ‘scrupulously’?  And how did he figure out a way to make ‘intractable’ filthy?”

Me: (facepalm) “We like all the good words.”

Tracy: “If the SAT bought the ACT a six-pack and then fucked the shit out of it…it would sound EXACTLY like your text feed.”

Me: “The SAT would never do that…the SAT would bring wine.”

Tracy: (eye roll)

 

Your Daily Dose of Vitamin Hooker

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For those of you who like a good hooker story…and who DOESN’T, my friend, Malka has FINALLY started a Tumblr account with the full accounting of her interactions with not only the Craig’s List hooker who ALMOST has her phone number, but also with the multitude of johns who continue to text her in the middle of the night, looking for some cookie.

Seriously…such a deep, dark part of me wishes this had happened to me.  *sigh*  If only…

http://schlongnumber.tumblr.com/

Mom, This Is Why You Should Be Glad *I* Couldn’t Text At 14.

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Caolinn: OMG I just saw an ad for car loans, and the storyline was that this nerdy white kid was trying to pick up this 40-year-old lady on a street corner in a crappy car, and he says, ‘Car ruined my game’, so he gets a loan and winks at the camera with the woman in his new car. WHAT. EVEN.  He looks twelve and she was this middle-aged, independent black woman who had been throwing him some appropriate sass, and now is IN HIS CAR.  WHAT IS HAPPENING!? America!? Feminism!?

Me: What in the holy hell are you watching?

Caolinn: I have no idea.  I was watching Teen Wolf and right in the middle of it, the commercial break took a really weird turn.

Me: To be clear…in a show about a werewolf who plays high school basketball…things took a really weird turn.

Caolinn: I don’t have time to explain these things to you, Mother.