Thursday, March 19, 2015

St. Patrick's Day Conversation...

Normally, when we text, I'll screen-cap the shit out of our convo and share it. You'd think that'd be less work than typing it out, but it really isn't. Well, in this case, I'm going to type it out because the Disabled Guy's texts were full of misspellings and in between our discussion, we had a few random things and I just don't feel like editing out those random things. But, the conversation that follows is the actual conversation with his misspellings and text-speak corrected because even though it's great that he can text, his text-speak annoys the hell out of me. (actually, anybody's text speak annoys me).

This all started with him sending me a text, wishing me a Happy St. Patrick's Day. And if you know him, you know he doesn't even like the real holidays- like Christmas, Easter, Thanksgiving, family birthdays, our anniversary.

DG: "Have a good Saint Patrick Day."

Me: "I don't drink. Or have anything green to wear. DEAR GOD! I'M GONNA DIE IF I GO OUTSIDE!! Saint Pats celebrators are like zombies. "Green. GREEEEN!"..."

DG: "I don't have a green shirt either. Of course, I don't have brains either."

Me: "You have a green t-shirt. I can see it from here. And St Pat's people don't want your brains. THEY WANT YOUR GREENS!"

DG: "Well, I don't have it here. But you can wear it."

Me: "I wear 3XL, I can't wear it."

DG: "Ok."

Me: "We're gonna die! St Pats are coming to get us!"

DG: "Not me."

Me: "Oh, they'll find you. THEY ALWAYS FIND YOU!"

DG: "But I'm blessed."

Me: "No one is! SAINT Patrick's Day. We're all gonna die!"

DG: "You're so negative."

Me: "No, I'm just realistic about the green zombies."

DG: "Yes, you so are."

Me: "GREEN ZOMBIE!!" and I sent that with this picture (I Googled "green zombie" on my phone).

DG: "Good God. You are going to die!"

Me: "He's on his way there. I gave him directions to your parents' house. It'll take a few weeks, he bought a ticket on Greyhound."

DG: "Good to know."

Then he sent me a photo of himself, wearing a towel, and said: "Watch out. The one-eyed monster will get you."

Me: "Not here. I'm safer from that than you are from the zombie."

DG: "Ok, but it's out there."

Me: "Not any that are interested in me. Those don't exist anymore."

DG: "You keep thinking that way and then it's going to eat you up."

Me: "Are you talking about zombies or your dick?"

DG: "Both."

Me: "Well, your dick is too far away and the green zombie is on a Greyhound bus."

His reply to that was a photo of him wearing a "Bazinga!" T-shirt with green lettering on it. He said: "I'm saved!"

I sent him a photo of a closeup of my eye and said that I have green flecks in my eye. He then informed me that I might be saved.

And just as quickly as the story escalated, it ended.

Saturday, March 7, 2015

Textually Speaking 2015

I'm sorry I haven't updated in quite a while. It isn't because we haven't had conversations. We have, but they're not always memorable or sometimes I just plain old forget them. The new pain meds for my fibro sort of scatter my brain cells into different realms and if I don't write something down, I'll forget it.

I have posted a few things in the Facebook Group. It's a public group, so you don't really even have to be a member of it to see the posts.

I've been meaning to post this conversation for a couple days, but I kept procrastinating myself out of it. Well, here it is- Textually Speaking 2015 edition. (he's yellow, I'm blue; in case you didn't know)

This is just as random as it seems. We were talking about something related to finances just about an hour and a half before this (as you can see in the time-stamp above his first text). So I was literally cooking dinner when he just texted that word to me. And this happened.