I hate text messaging.
More accurately, I have a love-hate relationship with it. Why do people feel like texting can replace a phone call? It’s helpful often, but there are instances when just CALLING someone is going to get you way further than a text. And text messaging costs money!
Texting is the biggest friend of pussy-boys. It’s worse than e-mail, because with texting, it assumes you have a girl’s phone number, and you’re making a conscious choice not to actually use it. Instead, you’re going to try to get into a girl’s pants with a 31-character message. Guys, there’s nothing hotter! Except maybe the heating pad in my bed that I’m substituting for the warmth of your body, because you are NOT coming over. Texting does not equal sexting. :pissed:
Last Saturday night around 12:43 am, for example, I got a text message from this guy that I haven’t talked to in weeks – I’d already taken him out of my address book (burn!) because I didn’t feel like seeing his name any more. I even had to look up the number on my bill to make sure it was him. Sure enough, he wanted to know, “hey Sally, how are you?” I first pretended to throw my phone against the wall; then I indulged him for a little and responded. Finally, after not being able to determine what he wanted, I gave him the cold no-textback shoulder.
The lesson here? If you haven’t talked to someone for long enough than is reasonable to assume that they might still be interested, a text is not an acceptable form of communication – it’s a booty CALL, not a booty TEXT. Put your big-boy underpants on, and if you’ve established that your respondent is, indeed, awake and alive, call them. Because I don’t want to waste my media package on you.